Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,13

driven to their knees.

All that was left of the southern mountains was a saw-toothed wasteland the minstrels called the Ravaged Lands. Its people fled to Eldaban—long columns of wounded and widows carrying their possessions on their backs. Leena had just turned ten, Fionn four. She’d held his hand as they’d trudged north.

“Oh, I remember,” Fionn said, his tone gentler now. “That’s why I’ve joined the winning side. They say I have a talent with people. Leadership quality. Someday, I could be a captain.”

He reached out to touch her arm, but the betrayal was too much. Leena squirmed away, thrusting the tunic into his arms. Reflexively, he grasped it. As he did, the loose cuff of his linen shirt pulled up to show his muscled forearm.

Leena saw the mark. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled his arm toward her. The patch of darkened skin on the inside of his arm was no bigger than a coin, but it was already crusted with white scales. Horror twisted like a living thing inside her. She made a low, keening sound halfway to a sob.

“What?” He jerked his arm away. “What’s the matter with you?”

She raised her eyes to meet his. His image blurred until she blinked hard. “How long have you had this?”

“A few days.” For the first time, uncertainty dimmed his expression. “It itches a bit.”

Leena fought to breathe, her panic turning it to a gasp. “You’ve had dealings with the Shades. Not just their fae flunkies, but the devils themselves.”

Fionn took a step back, raising his chin. “The general appointed me to his personal guard. My company is escorting the Phoenix Prince to Tymeera. Imagine—me in the same place as Prince Morran, one of the greatest sorcerers and warlords of all time. Me, serving in General Juradoc’s camp. I’m finally getting out of this place.”

“Juradoc is evil, and Morran is a madman,” she said flatly. “He tore the banquet room to pieces.”

Her panic was gone, replaced by a strange emptiness. That emptiness echoed with screams, but they seemed oddly distant—as if she’d lost her heart down a well. Maybe it was shock. Perhaps she was going mad, too. After all, in the last few seconds, her life had shattered.

Her brother. Shades. Despair.

If she let the despair bubble to the surface, she’d lose her brother. Fionn couldn’t abide high emotion. Somewhere deep inside, he was still a frightened child holding her hand.

“That’s how it starts, you know,” she said, still as frozen as the lava crusted over her childhood home. “That mark. Shade rot. They replace their numbers by infecting fae. If they choose you as their victim, you become one in time.”

He made a noise of disgust. “It’s a rash. Nothing more. Can’t you just be happy for me? I’m good at what I do, and someone finally saw it.”

“Happy for you? Fionn, you’re sick. Everything you are is at risk. You might be able to recover if you get far enough away from Juradoc. The temple will know what to do.”

But his expression had shuttered. “None of the others have turned into monsters.”

“It doesn’t happen to everyone. Just the ones the Shades pick. You said they singled you out.”

“As a soldier. What else would they want from me?”

Leena couldn’t answer that. She stammered something, but it made no sense.

“Leave me alone.” He cursed and spun away, striding in the direction his new friends had gone. The light from a window fell over him, gilding his curls. For an instant, he was still the boy Leena remembered.

“Wait!” She bolted after him, needing to pull him into her arms.

He’d reached the street corner. Fionn glanced over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. The force of his glare made Leena skid to a halt. She’d never seen that look before.

“You’re all that’s left,” she said, emotion leaking into her words until they barely made sense. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. He was the last of her family.

He slung the tabard over his shoulder and kept walking. “You’re resourceful.”

Reason snapped. “Fionn son of Finra, you come back here this instant!”

Leena grasped her middle, panting. She couldn’t stop her racing pulse. Fear made her lightheaded—for Fionn, for herself, of what this meant for her world. The enemy had crept in and snatched her happy-go-lucky brother, robbing everyone who knew him.

Fionn turned the corner without breaking stride. She stumbled forward a few steps, trying to keep him in sight, but the darkness swallowed his form. The finality of it was a drumbeat in her head. Lost.