Chapter Twenty
For several minutes, Kathryn cloaked her Power and flew for the sheer joy of it. She let the falcon’s instincts take over and simply did what a falcon wanted to do. For one thing, she was hungry, so she hunted for something like a prairie mouse for supper.
For another thing, by acting out what was in her nature she would appear entirely natural to any sharp-eyed Arkadian guard who might happen to notice her. After catching and eating a light meal, she took a few passes over the army to study the formation of their camp.
If she were an army with its very own queen-in-residence, she would want that queen right in the middle of all the fighters for maximum protection…. There.
She found a couple of tents that were much more spacious than those around them. They also had extra guards and campfires, and when you saw the configuration from the air, it couldn’t be more obvious than if a giant X had been painted on the tent tops.
She opened her talons, mimicking the act of letting go of a bomb. Boom. That’s how easy it would be if they were doing this on Earth, where technology worked.
But they weren’t on Earth. They had to do this the Lyonesse way.
Using her long-range eyesight to her best advantage, she took another pass over the army from a great height and made note of every guard and campfire. Not all the guards were stationed by campfires, and not all the guards were in the bulk of the army camp—there were perimeter sentries at watch in silent darkness in various positions outside the camp.
Sensible of their commander, and good to know.
Was that enough information to start with, or did she dare try to get closer? She ran a quick risk-assessment calculation. It was the early hours of the morning, well before dawn. This was the time when most of them would be asleep.
Plus, the Arkadian army had completely crushed Gracelyn’s force. They believed they had no immediate threats to be concerned with. More likely than not, Isabeau and other commanding officers were asleep, so there wouldn’t be much gain to weigh against any possible risk of discovery.
Right now, there wasn’t any point in doing any more reconnaissance, so she flew back to Oberon and Robin on the bluff. Swooping down, she landed and shapeshifted a few feet from Oberon’s crouching figure.
He snatched at her, gripping her so tightly against his tense body she grunted against the pressure. He snarled, What took you so long?!
Ease up, she coughed. You wanted me to do a thorough job, didn’t you?
Gods damn, woman! I just aged a thousand years. He sucked in a harsh breath.
They had awakened Robin, who pushed to a sitting position and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He started to whisper, “Has so—”
They had not been discovered yet, but they had been lucky—some of those sentries were stationed closer than they had realized. Kathryn touched Robin’s lips with her forefinger, and he stopped.
Telepathy was an intimate form of one-on-one communication, but it turned awkward when there were more than two people who needed to be in on the conversation. She told first Oberon and then Robin about the location of the perimeter sentries closest to them.
Robin’s gaze flashed to Oberon, and Oberon nodded. She didn’t need to hear what they said to each other to understand that exchange. Moving soundlessly, Robin handed her pack back to her and melted into the shadows.
Oberon told Kathryn, He’ll be back when he’s finished.
A shiver ran down her spine. She had been a predator all her life, but some things were just creepy. Quickly she told Oberon the rest of what she had discovered—the layout of the camp, the large tents positioned in the middle, and where the other perimeter sentries were located.
After finding a sharp, oblong stone, she used it to sketch a rough map on a rocky patch of dirt, trusting Oberon’s own catlike vision to see it in the dim moonlight. If she had pencil and paper, she could get more detailed, but she hadn’t thought to grab those when she had weeded out the nonessentials in her pack.
After she told him the exact number of sentries that appeared to be active around the various campfires and she began to describe exactly where each campfire was, he started to shudder. She realized he was laughing quietly.
What? she asked, blinking at him in confusion.
I’ve never been given such a thorough and detailed report from an advance scout before, he told her. Thank you. This is very useful.
She felt disgruntled, as if he had rubbed her feathers the wrong way, but she replied, You’re welcome. I wanted to get closer, but I didn’t think it was worth it until we had a chance to talk things over. Now what?
Now we wait for Robin to return, he said. I want to know we have a clear stretch around us for some distance so we don’t face a surprise attack too quickly. He rubbed her back. How are you doing?
She bit back a smile. She’d been enjoying herself so far, but she had no doubt that was going to change. I’m good, she told him. I caught a small bite for supper.
I saw your dive. It was pure poetry. She heard his smile in his telepathic voice. I can’t wait to see you hunt during the day.
She couldn’t wait to see him either. His animal form was as big as a horse—he would be utterly mesmerizing and terrifying. Leaning against his side, she told him, We’ll have to go camping as soon as we can.
Yes. Putting an arm around her, he rested his lips against the side of her head, and they fell silent as they waited for Robin’s return.
Relaxing into his warmth, she let herself doze and woke only when he tightened his arm. Shaking herself alert, she looked around for Robin.
Movement low to the ground caught her eye. A king cobra snake was sliding out of the nearby underbrush. A single bite from a king cobra wouldn’t kill any of the larger Wyr, but several bites would—and a single bite would probably kill her. She had no doubt it would also be quite lethal to the Light Fae.
Her heart kicked hard even as she realized Oberon’s body remained relaxed. Meanwhile, the snake kept coming and coming…. It had to be at least eighteen feet in length, and she couldn’t relax until the cobra transformed into Robin.
“Holy crap,” she whispered. Her heart was still pounding. “I just realized I don’t know anything about the poisonous creatures native to Lyonesse.”
“We will have to teach you many things.” Robin didn’t bother to lower his voice as he came close to squat in front of them. “They’re gone.”
“Well done.” Oberon stood, and she did as well. “Did you find a suitable shelter nearby?”
Robin nodded. Turning, he pointed east where the land rose from the basin in sharp, jagged spikes of rock. “There is a cave over to the right of that white oak tree, hidden under a granite ledge. It’s very shallow—at most it’s four and half feet deep and perhaps three and a half high, but that should be enough.”
“And the granite ledge is solid?” Oberon asked.
Before she could query why that was important, Robin replied, “Yes, sire.”
“Excellent.” Oberon swung around to stand in front of her. His face was in deep shadow, but what she could see of his features set her heart to pounding again in long, hard strokes. Laying a palm to her cheek, he said, “I really, really wish you had stayed back in the city.”
Complaining was one thing, but now he was beginning to scare her. She gripped his wrist. “Why? What happens now?”
“Dawn is still an hour away. They’re confident and relaxed, and there’s no better time to attack. Very shortly, it’s going to get too dangerous for you to be out in the open. You need to take shelter in the cave Robin found. As soon as you can fly again, I need you to scout for Isabeau’s exact location. It would also be very helpful if you can identify and locate the Arkadian commander, but Isabeau is the one who has nursed an obsession with destroying the Daoine Sidhe for centuries—she’s the one we really need to eliminate. If we cut off the head of that snake, the rest of it will die eventually.”
Then Robin added with an almost languid smile, “Remember, no matter what you see, Doctor, take very great care now. Even if we kill the Light Fae Queen, don’t relax your guard—severed snake heads can bite up to an hour after decapitation.”
Great Scott, that was creepier than ever. She shuddered as her mind raced over everything. It was clear Robin and Oberon knew exactly what they intended to do. She wanted to protest every fucking thing about it, without even knowing what was going to happen next. She wanted to ask, Why can’t I stay with you?
But Oberon had already made that clear. While he hadn’t wanted her here, now that she was, he needed her to find Isabeau while he and Robin concentrated on their fight.
And full partners had to learn when to let go and trust the other to do their part.
“Okay,” she said when she was sure she could keep her voice steady. “You got it.”
He hauled her against his chest and gave her a searing kiss. Before she had time to wind her arms around his neck, he shoved her away again. “Go. Hurry.”
From the ruthless set of his features, she saw they had reached a point of no return. As she retreated a few steps, Robin shapeshifted into the stallion again, and Oberon swung onto his back.
Standing a few feet away, she saw them together for the first time, and she realized how the stallion’s massive size was a perfect match for Oberon’s broad, muscular frame. In profile, they looked seamless and ancient in the moon’s subtle light, and her skin prickled with the sense of an oncoming storm.
No wonder Isabeau had been so intent on capturing the Daoine Sidhe King’s mount and breaking them apart…
Oberon had already told her to hurry. Whirling, she shapeshifted into the falcon and flew to the granite ledge by the white oak tree. But instead of crawling into the shallow cave, she perched on the ledge to watch what happened next.
Oberon and Robin hadn’t moved. They stood like a statue carved from obsidian. When would they start the attack?
In sharp contrast to what had been a comfortably mild night, a cold wind blew. The gust grew stronger, and the filmy, pale moonlight darkened. Looking up, she saw a towering bank of black clouds rolling over the wide bowl of the sky.
Frowning, she fluffed out her feathers for added warmth. It would be the height of inconvenience if she had left her winter coat behind only to find she needed it after all.
Within minutes, the cloud bank had taken over most of the stars, and the wind increased to a howl. As the first driving pellets of rain fell, she felt a tingle of Oberon’s distinctive magic, and, feeling rather foolish, she realized his attack had already begun.
Lightning tore the sky apart, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder so huge she felt it reverberate in her body. With a sizzling pop, more lightning struck the ground…
…and another.
Only this strike hit in the army encampment sprawled below.
And then another strike hit. Holy shit. After a few moments, she couldn’t distinguish between the peals of thunder. It was all one rolling drumbeat of cosmic destruction.
She was too far away to hear screaming, but she could see the flare-up of fires just fine. Multiple lightning strikes kept hitting the basin—they lit the scene so that it almost looked as bright as noon—and the rain turned into driving pellets of deadly hail.
The panorama was so bloody apocalyptic she found herself shivering. All this came from the man who had devastated an entire land while trapped in a vegetative state. She finally began to understand why the Daoine Sidhe King had gained such a deadly reputation, and also why Oberon believed Isabeau would never have dared invade Lyonesse if she’d known he was alive and awake.
She should have internalized that already. Invariably, the most ancient of the nation-builders in the Elder Races were ambitious visionaries with enough Power to hold and protect what they claimed.
Another streak of light sizzled, only this was a different beast from the white-hot lightning. This light was yellow, and it streaked through the air on a horizontal trajectory—toward the motionless man on the stallion.
She recognized it. The bolt was a battle spell called a morningstar.
The Light Fae had located Oberon and Robin, and they had begun to fight back.
As the morningstar streaked toward them, the black stallion reared and trumpeted out a scream of hate and defiance. Sparks flew as his hooves struck the ground. He tore away in a gallop, moving so fast he became a blur. A fraction of a moment later, the morningstar exploded where they had been standing.
More morningstars exploded, thrown from multiple locations. The Arkadians had several proficient magic users. The blast of hail died down, and Oberon’s lightning strikes grew more infrequent. He and Robin had to move desperately fast to keep from getting hit.
Now that the advantage of surprise had waned, the battle was getting scarier. Oberon’s lighting had already done extensive damage to the camp, but the Arkadian army was massive.
As Robin had pointed out, it was one big damn snake, and they still didn’t know where its two heads were.
Now that most of the sizzle and pop had a horizontal trajectory, maybe it was safe enough to fly. She shook out her wings and had started eyeing the clouds overhead when there came a sound like a distant train.
She froze. For crying out loud, now what?
Lyonesse didn’t have any trains….
Rapidly the sound grew into a roar. Craning her neck, she tried to locate the source. When she saw the vertical funnel that reached from the black cloud bank in the sky to the ground, recognition slammed into her.
Dear fucking gods. It was a fucking tornado. Oberon’s attack hadn’t slowed in the slightest. It had ratcheted up to the next stage.
Tornadoes could move as fast as three hundred miles an hour, much faster than she could fly. Diving for the cave, she shapeshifted and scrambled to the back and pressed her shoulder blades hard against the uneven stone wall while the world outside turned into a whirling, screaming hell.
Something else scrambled into the small cave. She caught only a glimpse of rain-wet brown fur, but she could identify it by its scent. It was some kind of badger.
In North America, badgers were aggressive. She had no reason to think this one was otherwise, but right now she and the badger had more urgent things to consider than a battle over territory. It made no move to attack, and she left it alone.
Be okay, she said mentally to Oberon, even though she knew he was much too far away to hear her. Be okay, be okay.
The roar of the train noise grew so loud her ears popped. A giant crack sounded nearby. That sounded like it might have been the oak tree. Then, just as rapidly as it had grown, the noise moved into the distance. It left behind an intense silence like another roar. Her ears popped again as the air pressure changed.
Scrambling out, she changed into the falcon and flew up to the ledge again. Nearby, the oak tree lay torn from its roots, and the Arkadian army… They were the invaders, the enemy, but even so, her gut twisted.
The tornado had touched down in the basin. At least half the encampment had simply vanished, and the rest was flattened. They’d had only tents, after all. They’d literally had no protection and nowhere to hide. Fires still burned in places. Oberon’s scorched-earth strategy had been exceedingly effective.
Where were Oberon and Robin? She looked around but didn’t see them, and the vertical lightning strikes had stopped.
Gods, she thought as she launched into the air. I hope he didn’t get killed by his own weapon of mass destruction.
She couldn’t take the time to look for them. She had her own job to do.
This time her risk assessment underwent a radical shift. The Arkadian survivors weren’t paying any attention to one small raptor overhead. She glided low, her quick, sharp gaze traveling over the terrain and organizing details of the frantic soldiers below.
It was utter chaos on the ground. Male. Male. Female. Male. Female. Female. Male. I don’t know what that one is. Male. Male… The two largest tents had been flattened along with the rest, and a significant number of the army’s horses had panicked or run off altogether…. She saw soldiers deserting in the distance.
She had no idea what Isabeau looked like. She didn’t know who she was looking for. She could have just passed over the Light Fae Queen and the Arkadian commander in her head count, and she would never know it. Any commander worth his salt would never desert his own troops, but…
These weren’t Isabeau’s own troops, and now she knew beyond a doubt that Oberon was awake and alert and able to fight for Lyonesse just fine.
On a sudden hunch, Kathryn wheeled and flew hard after the deserters that poured through a light scatter of trees like fleas abandoning a drowning beast. Yes—up ahead, there was a party of twelve Light Fae on horseback. That was too coordinated and intentional for most of the deserters. People didn’t band together like that when they panicked. They just ran randomly wherever they could go.
Now that she had expanded her search area, she saw a great white lion and a tall black stallion standing about two miles away due west.
Then she comprehended everything as if it had been laid out as clearly as the map in the council room.
Oberon had been several steps ahead of everybody. He knew the terrain, and he’d planned it out. The tornado had come in from the northeast and cut diagonally southwest across the basin where the army had camped.
He had known people would run instinctively, and it would be natural for them to run away from the tornado.
He had known Isabeau would make a run for the crossover passageway, and even though he was weaponless, he had decided to make a stand.
Kathryn had been wrong.
That diving stoop to catch the starling, when Bayne and Graydon had recorded her speed, wasn’t the fastest she could fly.
* * *
The morningstar bolt, when it hit, had been an act of inspired genius that came right before the tornado hit.
Some archers were like that. They could see not where a target was, but where a target would be when they fired a shot. It would seem an unknown Arkadian magic user had the same talent.
If Robin had not seen the morningstar out of the corner of his eye and dodged, it would have hit them squarely and killed one or both of them. As it was, the puck caught the edge of the bolt on one haunch and screamed in agony. Somehow, he managed to keep from tumbling end over end. At the speed they were going, that was a miracle all on its own.
But he still stumbled hard enough that Oberon lost his seat and pitched over his shoulder. The lion’s reflexes kept him from slamming into the ground—he was pretty certain Kathryn would regard that as a hard enough blow to the chest—so even as he flew through the air, he arched his body and shapeshifted fast enough to land on all four of the great cat’s feet, which spread out some of the impact.
Luckily, they weren’t in the tornado’s path, because as he limped over to the stallion, he saw right away that Robin wouldn’t be racing anywhere anytime soon. The stallion’s hind leg was broken and burned badly. The scent of sizzled flesh hung in the air.
“All right,” he said gently. “I’ve got you.” He caught the stallion by the nose and did a quick scan.
There was nothing good about a disaster, but at least the break was a clean one. Ignoring the fading roar as the tornado passed, he cast a few healing spells targeted to the area low in Robin’s leg where the break was, and then along the haunch to seal over the raw, burned flesh.
The puck sagged in relief as the worst of his pain lifted, but even though Oberon knew Robin could use more healing, his own tiredness forced him to stop.
Weather working took a lot of strength. He had almost used the last of his magic, and in any case, all the healing spells in the world wouldn’t recover Robin’s ability to move at great speeds. Only time and rest would do that. They were spent, and they knew it.
And they still had yet to come face-to-face with Isabeau. He supposed it was too much to hope that the tornado had killed her. When Robin could walk, he turned, and they headed together to a natural dip in the land between two hills. As the hilltops were broken and craggy, it was the most logical path to anyone who wanted to travel due west.
If she was going to bolt, it would be right through this grove of trees.
At some point dawn had come. In the aftermath of the storm, the early morning was weak and uncertain. The pallid light made everything look gray and black.
As they waited, Oberon said, “I want you to find Kathryn and make sure she’s okay.”
“No,” Robin replied, peaceably enough. “You know she’s okay.”
They didn’t speak again. It was good to stand beside his friend.
The rhythmic beat of horse hooves drummed the ground. Several riders approached. Here we go, he thought.
Then he saw them, winding through the trees.
Twelve Light Fae on horses slowed as they grew closer. Oberon smelled Isabeau before he located her. They had not come face-to-face in centuries, but he had never forgotten her scent. His hackles rose.
She rode between two guards. Her beautiful face was stark with the knowledge of her own defeat, and it was everything he had needed to see before one of them died. Her expression turned to loathing as she looked at Robin.
“What are you doing here, dog?” she spat. “And why aren’t you with your master?”
Robin growled, a steady, nearly inaudible sound that sounded bizarre coming from the stallion.
Oberon watched coldly as the Light Fae began to spread out. Isabeau turned her attention to him. She gave him a pretty smile that didn’t quite mask the worried wariness in her eyes. Things weren’t adding up for her.
“I had no idea there were any Wyr in Lyonesse, much less one of your stature,” she told him. “My disputes are solely with Oberon and his abominations—I have no quarrel with you, sir. All we want is to leave this land, so let us pass and we’ll go in peace.”
His lips pulled back in a snarl. Telepathically, he growled, Isabeau, as the gods are my witness, you’re not leaving this place alive.
She blanched. “You! How can you be alive after all this time—how can you be full Wyr?” She screamed at the other Light Fae, “This is Oberon, you fools! Kill him! KILL HIM! KILL THEM BOTH!”
Looking as stark as their mistress, the Light Fae drew weapons. Some began to mutter spells. He noted each one. Light began to glow between Isabeau’s gloved hands as she concentrated on creating a morningstar.
I’m sorry, Kathryn, he thought. I’m not able to avoid physical combat after all.
With that, he unleashed his control, and the lion roared. Years of outrage and hate poured out of him. It shook the ground. Enough of the man remained to raise the last of his own magic as the lion lunged to engage the nearest soldier who rushed him.
With a sweep of one giant paw, he snatched the male off his horse, sank his fangs into his torso, and broke his back. Spitting the dying man to one side, he leaped to the next. Robin reared, kicked, and lunged to fight with teeth and hooves. The black stallion had grown fangs.
Oberon killed the next warrior, and the next. They died quickly, screaming in terror. His vision narrowed to a single focus—he needed to get to Isabeau before she loosed her morningstar. She was still too far away for him to stop.
He had to try anyway.
He crouched, readying for a massive spring, but then the most perfectly shaped, deadly feathered bullet plummeted out of the sky, talons outstretched.
The peregrine falcon did the oddest thing. She tapped the top of Isabeau’s head with both talons. He felt a brief, bright spark of her magic, and then she swooped away.
Isabeau’s morningstar spell fell apart as her body stiffened. She toppled gracelessly off her horse.
Oberon had no fucking clue what had just happened, but he loved it. He loved that murderous little falcon. He loved her. Letting loose another roar, this time in delight, he and Robin tore through the other Light Fae. A morningstar burned along the side of his neck and shoulder.
It hurt like a son of a bitch, but as he whirled to contend with the magic user who had cast the spell, the falcon tore out of the sky with lightning speed and executed her perplexing maneuver again. The magic user toppled just as Isabeau had.
By the time they had killed the rest of the Light Fae, Oberon was laboring hard. His torso felt like one gigantic bruise. It was hard to breathe without pain, which was localized in the front of his chest. The falcon landed and turned into Kathryn. She looked sharp with worry.
With a massive effort, he shapeshifted back into a man and stood wheezing, one hand flattened on his chest.
She sprang at him, raging. “I told you not to—”
“Oh darling, hush,” he said tiredly.
Her scolding stopped as abruptly as if he had stuck a cork in her mouth. She threw her arms around him and scanned him. He hugged her—he was covered in blood, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“No more fighting,” she whispered. “I mean it. You’ve strained the fresh connections in your bones.”
“I know. I can feel it.” He looked around. “What you did—did you kill them?”
She had gotten blood on her face, and she wiped it off as she shook her head. “No, I used a medical procedure called a defibrillator spell. It’s an electrical current that’s meant to restart someone’s heart if it stops beating, but their hearts were already beating fine, so their bodies seized up and they lost consciousness. That’s going to wear off soon.”
Well, in that case. He strode over to the magic user and unceremoniously broke the male’s neck. Then he turned to Isabeau, which was when he noticed Robin.
The puck had also shapeshifted back into his most humanlike form. He sat cross-legged on the ground and had put Isabeau’s head in his lap. Stroking her golden hair, he contemplated her lovely, still face.
“Robin…,” Oberon began, but he stopped when he realized he didn’t know what to say.
He wanted nothing more than to keep Isabeau alive, so he could put her on trial in front of everyone that she had wronged in Lyonesse. But she was much too dangerous to keep captive, not while the three of them were either injured or overextended in some way and with Arkadian soldiers sprinkled like poison throughout the area.
He exchanged a troubled glance with Kathryn. Threading her fingers through his, she said quietly in his head, Maybe he needs this more than you do.
Maybe, he admitted. It was difficult to let go, but so much easier, he knew, than what Robin must have endured.
They watched as the puck sat with Isabeau until she began to stir.
When her perfect, cornflower blue eyes opened, Robin gave her a smile filled with too many sharp teeth.
“Hello, darling.” He showed her a slender, shining silver needle that he held pinched between thumb and forefinger. Oberon felt a flash of the puck’s magic. “I have a present for you.”
Isabeau’s gaze widened. She opened her mouth to scream as her hands flew up. Tired as he had to be, Robin still struck before she could defend herself. With a king cobra’s swiftness, he drove the silver needle through the soft flesh of her temple, deep into her brain.
Kathryn covered her mouth as the Light Fae Queen convulsed. None of them moved or looked away until she finished dying.