Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,61
through the Ruin’s voice. “Like something is dogging your every step.”
Her hands fisted. “You wouldn’t understand…what’s your name?”
A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Laoise. And you don’t have to explain if you’d rather not.”
The thunder of footsteps sounded on the street outside Laoise’s home. Reyna’s head jerked up, toward the door. A tiny, single-paned window looked out onto the dirt path that cut through the buildings. Wood fae warriors strode by in packs, their emerald armor at odds with the shades of grey that surrounded them.
Laoise scurried across the floor, flipped back a rug, and groaned as she lifted open her cellar door. She blinked up at Reyna, her frail body trembling with the effort. “Hurry. Get inside.”
Reyna ground her teeth together. Hiding in a hole in the ground felt like cowardice. It felt like giving in to the Ruin’s truth. It felt like accepting that she could do nothing for anyone any longer. But she saw no other way. The warriors could glance through that window at any moment, and they would spot Reyna at once.
Laoise would die for trying to protect her.
With a heavy sigh, Reyna crossed the floor and climbed into the cellar just as the front door burst open.
21
Thane
Thane advanced through the woods, taking the lead at the head of the army. His aunt and uncle strode on either side of him, their eyes gleaming beneath the dappled moonlight. They’d marched quietly through the woods all night, and the city of Tairngire loomed large before them.
There had been no ghosts. No spectres in the night. Whatever magic Thane had felt as a child had abandoned these woods. At first, he’d been relieved, but now he felt it was an omen of things to come.
After they’d trekked through the woods, they’d headed south, winding their way around the southern edge of the city through the grassy fields. Several times, Thane spotted scouts scuttling along in the darkness. They wore dyed golden armor stamped with the sigil of the Air Court. The golden crown mocked him.
He was their king, and yet he was coming toward them as an enemy. And now he was at their gates.
As the Ice Court army joined him on the field, Thane gazed upon the golden city. Archers lined the battlements, and flags flickered in the steady breeze. The city was ready for him but not in the way he hoped.
It wanted to put up a fight.
He frowned. Had Aengus not received his letter? Or had he read it and tossed it in the fire? The same male who had killed his mother wasn’t likely to surrender so quickly. He’d schemed for years to gain this power, and now it was almost his. The Grand Alderman would stop at nothing to become a true High King.
And still, Thane carried hope inside of him like a torch against the darkness. “I want to approach the city before we attack.”
Princess Iona’s thin lips twisted into a scowl. “You and your incessant hope of a surrender. They won’t bow down, nephew. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
“I am their king.”
“A king that is clearly unwanted,” she hissed. “Look at them all. They’re ready to fight you.”
He scanned the walls. She wasn’t wrong.
“Still, I want to present myself to them, and—”
Before he could finish, his aunt brought her fingers to her lips and whistled loud and long. The Sea and Ice Courts raised their swords and charged. Growling, Thane twisted back to face the armies, waving his hands. He had to stop them. He could not have them charging the gates until he’d presented himself before the court as their king.
But it was no use. The warriors streamed past him in sapphire and silver, their eyes alight with the lust for battle. Cos Darragh and Uncle Calder were a part of it now, urging their fighters forward. Only Iona still stood beside him. She smiled smugly as she watched the warriors race toward the walls. Arrows arced through the air, punching the ground around their feet. Some made contact, knocking warriors down, but there weren’t enough archers inside that city for it to matter.
“You should have let me at least try,” he shouted over the roar of battle, frustration burning in his eyes. “They might have listened to me when they saw their High King at their gates!”
“Yes, you’re right,” she hissed back. “They might have. And we could not have them even think of surrendering.”