Redeemed (Heroes of the Highlands) - By Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,45

taunted. “Because of yer insolence in keeping me, she mentioned me by name in her contract with the Gods.”

The frost around her agitated the air as though swirled by a powerful wind, the only outward sign of the Banshee Queen’s displeasure. “That is why I brought Ly Erg. He is my assassin when I or my Banshees cannot have a hand in the deed. As you have learned, Druid, since the blood of your people still stain his hands.” She reached to Ly Erg and brought a crimson hand to her lips, planting a devoted kiss to the blood.

Her mouth came away clean. The blood never actually touched her, despite that she was swimming in an ocean’s worth of innocent dead.

“I just came to watch.” The Queen’s liquid silver eyes ignited with a cruel spark.

Beside him, Kylah gasped.

Daroch’s lip curled as he tried to rein in his surging rage and let his logic prevail. “I have defeated Ly Erg countless times. He hardly holds danger for me.” Especially not now.

“I have been toying with you, human,” Ly Erg scoffed, his new suit of armor gleaming in the sunlight. “As the Queen has never particularly ordered your death before now.”

Daroch could not exactly tell if Ly Erg spoke the truth, but it mattered little. Because of his animal guardians, they were more equivalent in combat than ever in the past, and Daroch now held one massive advantage in that regard. Ly Erg didn’t fear his weapons.

And that could prove a lethal mistake.

The Queen pointed at Kylah and gestured to her hand-maiden. “Subdue her,” she ordered.

The expressionless Fae moved to comply.

Ly Erg slowly advanced toward Daroch. “Know this, Druid, once I have taken your life, I’m going to enjoy punishing your woman. And once I’ve broken her, I’ll start on her sister. I’m going to—”

Daroch attacked, not intending to let Ly Erg finish his threat. He leapt with all the dexterity afforded by the wolves, his staff in his left hand and his sword in his right, poised to rain a final death upon the unsuspecting immortal. Ly Erg barely had time to draw his sword before Daroch was on him. The clash echoed over the moors for miles as their weapons collided with unnatural speed and strength.

Daroch used both weapons in a relentless spinning offensive, forcing the Faerie to block his staff before he followed up with a slash from his sword.

Ly Erg did seem to be more dexterous than in the past, his Fae blade moving with barely traceable speed, still managing to deflect every one of Daroch’s blows. Changing strategy, Daroch brought them face to face with a dual-handed attack that caught both his weapons, but took Ly Erg two hands on his hilt to block.

He snarled at the Fae executioner. “Ye’ll never taint her with yer touch.”

Ly Erg opened his mouth, but rather than hear the Fae’s retort, Daroch used a surge of power through his arms to bash at his perfect, cruel features with the blunt head of his staff.

Blood exploded from the Faerie’s nose and a satisfying crunch preceded a faint sizzle as the Arborlatix came into contact with Fae cartilage, blood, and bone.

The extent of the damage stunned them both, but Daroch recovered first and leapt away, disengaging their weapons. He growled and began to spin his staff in his left hand to gain momentum for another assault.

Ly Erg spit blood into the grass and leered at him, swiping his sword through the air a few times.

“Why do you not heal?” the Queen demanded of her executioner.

“The Druid has something on his weapons,” Ly Erg answered shortly, his silver and gold features sobered and settled into an ugly mask of retribution. “The time for play is over.”

“You Faeries are creatures of the forest,” Daroch measured his voice carefully, giving away none of the glee he felt as he watched blood continue to leak from his enemy’s broken nose. “It seems appropriate, then, that a tree would hold the key to your demise.” He advanced again, maintaining his position as the aggressor, his staff whirling through the air as though searching for purpose, his sword poised to strike.

Ly Erg leapt at him, blood staining his teeth and draining from his mouth as he flew through the air, a new and satisfying fear in his silver eyes.

Daroch braced himself, but dangerously underestimated the Fae’s strength as he blocked a blow to his staff arm that he should have dodged. His staff went flying as pain exploded in