Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,29

had some armor to don and a war camp to infiltrate. And then a king to kill.

10

Reyna

Dawn arrived with bulbous grey clouds and the scent of rain on the wind. Reyna had lain wide awake on a bed of straw inside the dead fae’s tent until she heard the sound of waking warriors. She darted out before any nearby fae spotted her, leaving the forest behind for the burnt earth. The warriors roamed the paths between the tents. There were several fire pits dotted throughout the camp where cooks were whipping up a strew for breaking fast.

Reyna’s stomach grumbled as she passed one by, the scent of roast rabbit, potatoes, and carrots swirling through the air. The cook saw her looking, and pressed a bowl into her hands.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile.

He nodded and got straight back to work.

Reyna roamed through the camp as she spooned the hearty stew into her mouth, soothing an aching need she had not even noticed until now. She last ate on the ship, two days ago. A dull knife stabbed her heart. She could not let herself forget what the Oxgrovians had sacrificed to get her here.

The din of the warriors rose up around her. The clash of steel from a training area just up ahead. The clatter of bowls from the fire pits. The steady hum of conversation, relaxed and easy. Every single fae, the thousands of them, wore the same armor she did. Simple fighting leathers, dyed a deep green. The bow and arrow was the weapon of choice for many. Even in their camp, they wore the bows strapped to their backs.

Findius loomed over everything, casting a deep shadow across the camp. Just on the other side of that wall, Lorcan waited. She slowed to a stop as she stared up at the sleek black stone, her heart as heavy as an anchor. A part of her wanted to throw this folly of a plan aside, rush straight for the tunnels beneath the wall, and into Lorcan’s arms.

A hopeless need pulsed inside of her. Ever since she had been ripped from his side, she’d felt as though her heart had been cleaved in two. The wall was a reminder of just how separated they were. It was like an enormous shield around her heart—one she wanted to cast aside more than anything. But the stone was impenetrable…except for the hidden tunnels beneath.

She could see him within the hour if she ran fast enough.

The wood fae would spot her, but she could run. Wingallock had to be somewhere nearby, and her Shieldmaiden training meant she could dodge their arrows.

Maybe she should give this up. Maybe the Ruin was right.

“The High King insisted I join him here,” a nasally, grating voice drifted toward Reyna, dragging her attention away from the looming wall. She knew that voice. Darting behind a tent, she peered around at Grand Alderman Aengus surrounded by three wood fae who were armed to the teeth. His bushy brows pinched together, his small chin wobbling.

Reyna gasped. Why was Aengus here? How was he not in Tairngire? Wasn’t he ruling the city in Thane’s absence?

Had he left the city undefended? If so, that was good news for Thane.

“High King Molt has very clearly spoken. He did not call you here,” one of the warriors argued. “Now, stop asking about it and return to your air fae tents. He’ll allow you to stay here, but only if you do as he says. And he does not have time to be bothered by the likes of you.”

Aengus huffed. “He called me here. I demand an audience at once.”

The warrior drew his sword. Steel whistled in the air. “You are our ally, or else we would kill you on the spot. But do not push your luck. The king will call for you when he wants a word. That is not now.”

With an irritated growl, Aengus spun on his feet and stormed down the path. The warriors muttered amongst themselves before charging off in the opposite direction. Reyna felt torn. Aengus was here, and he was no doubt up to something. She was desperate to know how he’d ended up in this camp when he should be squatting on his stolen throne. But curiously enough, the wood king wanted nothing to do with him.

And the warriors would likely lead her straight toward Molt.

She chose the guards.

Reyna fell in line behind the warriors as they rushed through the camp. They weaved through the tents, barely