Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,42

warriors shifted on their feet.

Moina scowled. “We don’t know. The Grand Alderman said he left it in the hands of a girl, but he wouldn’t say who.”

Hmm. That was odd, and it was the second time she’d heard mention of a girl. An alarm bell clanged in her head, loud and unyielding. “It’s not…Eislyn, is it? Did he somehow get his claws into my sister?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know,” the captain said with a kind smile. “I didn’t even know our High King was still alive until now.”

A tangle of unease and fear shifted uncomfortably in her gut. She’d felt so much relief when she’d heard Eislyn had escaped Tairngire. But…had she, actually? Thane’s spies had not been certain exactly where she’d gone or what had happened to her. They were unable to get inside the castle, only hearing half-whispered rumors as they drifted through the city. The words could have been warped as they passed from ear to ear.

Her sister might still be trapped there. And Thane was poised to attack.

“I need to do something,” she said, panic rising with her voice. “If Eislyn is in that castle when Thane attacks…”

“Our High King will not destroy the castle,” Moina said firmly. “It will not come to that. When the people see it’s him at the gates, they will welcome him in with open arms. You need not worry about Princess Eislyn.”

Reyna tried to nod, but her neck was frozen. Moina was likely right. Thane hadn’t even wanted to attack Tairngire in the first place. But…it might not be left up to him. The Leaghans’ were thirsty for blood.

“Do you have any birds here, to send word?” Reyna asked. “I won’t be able to go through with this if Eislyn’s life is at risk, even a little bit.”

The captain exchanged a few nervous glances with her warriors. “Go through with what exactly, Princess Reyna? Why have you come here? I know it’s not just to inform us you’ve seen our High King.”

Reyna’s lungs expanded as she drew in the air, tinged with smoke and blood. “Ulaid Molt is not our ally.”

Captain Moina’s brows slammed down. “Our High King said this?”

She nodded. “He knows what kind of monster he is. This alliance, it was not his idea, and he does not wish for it to continue even a moment longer.”

The warriors suddenly grew restless. Murmurs spread through the little crowd as they shifted on their feet, as they rustled through the trunks for the weapons kept inside. Moina’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her golden eyes flickered with eternal fire, and a deep crimson flooded into her cheeks.

“What are you saying?” Moina murmured. She glanced at the tent’s flap, rustling in the breeze. The chanting of distant warriors drifted inside, guttural sounds that tiptoed dread down Reyna’s spine. What were the wood fae up to now?

“What would you say your numbers are compared to theirs?” Reyna asked softly so that the others could not pick up her words.

Moina’s head jerked up. She motioned for the warriors to gather around her. They all dropped what they were doing and came to her side.

“The princess and I need to have a private chat.” She nodded at each of them in turn. “And I need you to rouse anyone who is asleep. Sober up anyone who might have overdone it on the Wood Whiskey. Don’t speak of anything you’ve heard inside this tent, yes? Just…get everyone moving.”

The warriors nodded and disappeared through the flap without a single word of disagreement. Reyna was left inside with Moina. The captain began to pace the length of the tent.

“Are you merely suggesting this, princess?” she asked. “Or is it an order from our High King?”

“I haven’t suggested or ordered a thing,” Reyna said. “I’m just asking you a question. What are your numbers?”

“Eight thousand,” Moina said. “The Wood Court has just as many, and they have their ships.”

Reyna frowned. The ships would be the problem. “Any idea the numbers on those? We haven’t been able to get a good look at them.”

Moina scowled. “That’s because Ulaid Molt is using bloody Unseelie magic to cast an illusion across them. There could be a single ship for all we know. Or there could be a hundred.”

“Could he support that many warriors? That many ships? Where did the wood come from? I know they don’t like to chop down their own.”

Moina shot her a wry smile. “They say the same thing about ice fae. Where do you get your