glowed faintly where they were stored around its perimeter. Their light had dimmed since Hadrian’s arrival and soon would be extinguished. He watched the warrior shiver, then move with purpose to claim a large sword with an elaborate hilt.
He whispered the blade’s name beneath his breath, like an invocation, then swore softly. Hadrian could see that the blade was covered with frost and that it was considerably shorter than it had been on his arrival. The warrior lifted it before himself to examine it more closely and its meager light illuminated his confused expression. He glanced toward Hadrian, apparently mystified, then turned around to replace the blade.
He might have chosen another, but Hadrian shifted shape and pulled Rania’s kesir from beneath his scales. He struck the Fae warrior down with a clean single stroke before the intruder could even put a hand on the hilt of his own sword.
He spun around, his mouth open in astonishment, then dissolved into a silver puddle that gleamed on the pounded dirt floor of the armory.
Hadrian waited, listening, but he didn’t hear any signs of pursuit. He lifted the sword from the rapidly-diminishing puddle and added it to the collection in the armory. He exhaled on the blade to encourage the frost to form, then wiped Rania’s blade and hid it again. He shifted back to his dragon form and coiled on the floor of the treasury, willing his pulse to slow as he watched the only door.
There might be others, but he’d be ready.
Fourteen
“You win, Fae bait,” Wynter said to Arach in the challenging tone he was getting used to hearing. “You get to slice the portal open.”
They were in Central Park on Thursday night, as scheduled. The Fae sword glowed with its sinister silver light in Arach’s grip. The firestorm burned golden between himself and Wynter but he’d known without asking that the chance of satisfying it before this attack on Fae had been non-existent.
It was hard to believe that the firestorm had chosen such an infuriating, contrary, defiant woman as his destined mate. Arach had decided that his firestorm had to be a spell.
The sooner they extinguished the Dark Queen’s power, the better. He couldn’t take much more of this persistent desire.
He’d chosen the North Woods in the hope that they’d be unobserved. That was a long shot, given that they were accompanied by twenty determined women who were widowed wolf mates—the rest of the group from Alaska were guarding the kids—Caleb and six other wolf shifters from New York, five dragon shifters, two pregnant but resolute mates, Murray, Mel, the medusa hostess from Bones whose name he could never remember and most of the remaining members of the Circus of Wonders.
Of the Pyr, Kristofer, Rhys, Thorolf and Theo were right behind Arach. Bree and Lila were with them, too. The Pyr each had a new pair of gloves from Quinn. Bree had her Valkyrie sword and Lila carried a trident. Each one in the invading party had armed his or herself with a weapon—or two—of choice and each was grim. They were a veritable army and Arach suspected that even here, the gathering or the open portal might be spotted by some curious human.
The sword was cold and heavy in his grip. He wasn’t entirely sure how to wield it, much less whether it would respond to the will of someone who wasn’t Fae. He and Wynter had debated the merit of testing it in advance, but ultimately had agreed that doing so might reveal their scheme to Maeve.
At least they agreed on something.
A distant clock struck six.
It was now or never.
“Good luck to all of you,” Arach said to the silent company gathered behind him in the shadows. “Remember: don’t drink or eat anything. Don’t be fooled and don’t make any deals. Whatever you do, don’t start dancing. I hope to see you all afterward.”
He sensed their nods and felt them brace themselves for the worst. More than one gripped a weapon more tightly. Arach lifted the blade and tried to forget how he’d been cursed by Maeve just for entering her realm uninvited.
“Do it, dragon dude,” Wynter whispered and he grimaced that she never called him by his name. “Do it now.”
Arach willed the weapon to open a portal for him, sliced downward with one savage gesture and hoped. He and Wynter gasped in unison as a silver sliver of light opened between the realms. Arach could see the endless heath of Fae and the twilit sky, the