Page 44 of Atop the Faerie Throne (The Fifth Nicnevin #5)

Forty-Three

Rhoswyn

F ellgotha lurks beneath the thickest, blackest cloud I’ve ever seen. Illuminated by flashes of lightning and drenched beneath sheets of fierce rain, the craggy mountain seems angry. There are more plants on the barren slopes than there were the last time I was here, but they don’t do much to offset the skitter of nerves that being here brings.

Kitarni’s books said that, in cases where Danu’s magic and the realm beyond the portal are incompatible, freak seismic and weather events are a natural consequence. The land sees Balor’s portal as a threat and is reacting accordingly. This is Faerie’s doing. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

But the clouds remind me too much of the carvings of the bàsron in the Deep Caves, and I can’t help searching for those pale skull-like faces in every shadow.

The dark line in the cliffs that marks the entrance to the Fomorian fortress is barely visible, but I know it’s there. Beyond that, who knows how many of them wait for us?

My Guard and I will be leaving the worst of the battle in the hands of Prae and her mates, at her insistence. Our focus will be the Deep Caves and finding Elatha, who will no doubt have scores of his own warriors with him.

Then there are the tunnel wyrms.

Kitarni brewed an antidote she believes will counter the effects of the creatures’ venom. There are vials tucked safely into my pouch, along with healing potions, should Caed be injured, since I can no longer send him energy down the bond. On top of that, we have charms tucked into our clothes that should render us immune to their paralytic breath. It won’t solve everything, but I hope it will be enough.

We just need a fighting chance against those beasts.

Drystan’s hands tense on my shoulders as a renewed burst of fear leaks from me. He’d been caressing my neck with his thumbs, and I mourn the loss of the commanding, intimate touch even as I curse my own emotions.

Of course, my Guard felt that.

“I’m fine,” I reassure him, though he can’t hear me. “I’m just nervous.”

No response. I don’t know why I keep trying.

“The ships are weighing anchor here,” Jaro says, abandoning his discussion with Florian and the captain on the upper deck. “We’re well-glamoured, and with any luck we’ll get far into the mountain before they realise we’re even there.”

“There’s so much iron down there that it won’t stay a surprise attack for long,” Caed mutters. “But it makes sense to use what advantages we have.”

Drystan’s hands fall to his sides as Caed approaches, and his frustration hits me all over again. It’s been a constant barrage since he returned. Every time it’s obvious that he’s missing out on a conversation, his muscles tense and he either stalks off or shuts down.

Prae has promised to try to work with the fae to create something that might help him, but so far the only reliable method for communicating anything is using the bond and my emotions. Obviously, that’s far from perfect, but it works… most of the time.

While Kitarni and I have been studying, my males have been sparring. Oddly, watching them has been calming.

Caed and Drystan might not be at full strength, but they’re no slouches either. I have to remember that Drystan survived decades without his head before, and Caed’s lived through the Deep Caves twice.

“You should get your armour on,” Bree says, dropping down from the sky in a blur of black feathers, and I grimace as I notice he’s already wearing his. “Do you need help?”

I shake my head, lifting Drystan’s hand to my lips and kissing it in farewell. “No. Maeve’s already offered.”

My guides have been quiet for most of the journey, giving me and my mates time to get used to our new dynamic. I could use some time with them, and who knows? Maybe today they’ll have some words of wisdom that might help.

The plan might be simple, but we all know the execution will be anything but. Thoughts of what could go wrong chase me down into my small cabin, but the moment I close the door, they’re all with me, filling the space.

“Are you afraid, dear heart?” Titania asks, as I head for the pile of dark armour laid out on my bed and start trying to slip it over my tunic.

It’s enchanted to be light as a feather, which is good because otherwise I’d have no chance of flying while wearing it. That also means the weight that lands on my shoulders is entirely emotional.

“Yes.” I can admit it to them, even if I can’t say the words to my Guard or the rest of my court. “I don’t want to go back down there.”

I never wanted to return to Fellgotha again. I certainly never wanted to be an invader.

“You were born for this, kid,” Maeve tells me solemnly, as she takes over buckling the armour at my shoulders. “You can do this, and when shit happens, you’ll deal with it.”

It’s not me I’m worried about.

I can die and return safe and sound to Danu’s Cave in Elfhame. My mates have no such luxury. If this fails, and they can’t escape, they’ll be trapped here until I find a way to free them. Caed could die. Drystan might become lost in the Deep Caves and never find his way out.

There are Fomorians, tunnel wyrms, and iron to worry about.

“Place your faith in the Goddess,” Titania advises, lacing the bracer on my left arm with deft fingers. “And your magic.”

“Even if the iron prevents you from using your powers, you have your sword,” Mab says, pulling me in for a rare hug. “And we will never abandon you, even if we can’t help.”

I know.

They’ve stood by my side and faced down death with me before, and they’ll do it again.

“I love you,” I tell them all, honestly. “I’m so grateful that you’ve always been here.”

Maeve and Titania join the hug without warning, surrounding me.

“Before I do this, can I ask you something?” I say, as we break apart, and I start lacing up the bracer on my other arm.

“Of course,” Titania promises, bending to help with my greaves next.

“Why did Danu send me you three and not my mother?”

They still as one, sharing a silent look.

“Diana has always been with you where it matters, dear heart,” Titania whispers. “Just as we were for our daughters. Love never truly dies, but there are rules that bind even a divinity. A Nicnevin may know no mother save the Goddess.”

“We’ve already pushed that rule as far as it will go,” Maeve adds. “Our reigns have ended. Danu made it clear that we were to guide and not interfere. It would be much more difficult for Diana, who knew so many of the fae you’ve met and might’ve tried to sway your views of them.”

“Like you did with Cressida.” Mab rolls her eyes. “The Goddess was far too lenient with you for that.”

“Cress was being a dick,” Maeve grunts. “And Rose needed a teacher.”

“Could I summon Diana, if I wanted?” I press.

“I expect so,” Mab says. “But not for long. She’s earned her rest, don’t you think?”

A vision of the warmth and peace I glimpsed on Samhain swims to the forefront of my mind, and I find myself nodding. My mother reigned for thousands of years, and who knows how much strife and darkness she had to deal with in that time?

“But haven’t you?”

Titania stands, wrapping me in another hug. “We’d spent millennia enjoying the Otherworld in peace with our mates before you came along. We’re rested.”

“Besides,” Maeve finishes. “Pretty soon, your queendom won’t be at war, and you won’t need us anymore.”

“You’re going to leave me?” I ask.

The question comes out more childlike than I intended, and I have to fight the lump in my throat that follows it. I never considered that there might be a day where I wouldn’t be able to turn around and just ask them for advice.

“No, not at all,” Mab says quickly. “But we realised when we signed up for this that once you found your footing, you’d call on us less and less. We’re going to watch with pride as you take control of the realm for yourself.”

“We’re only a word away if you need us to help you kick ass.” Maeve winks, stepping back.

Just like that, they’re gone, leaving me standing in dark armour that absorbs the warm glow of the lantern above. My fingers graze smooth metal as I start to utter a silent prayer to the Goddess, then stop midway.

“If you’re my mother,” I begin, so quietly that I barely hear my own words. “Why hurt us like this? Why send us to battle hobbled and?—?”

I break off, my throat closing over as my arms curl around my middle, holding me together. Titania’s words circle in my head, even as Danu waits patiently within me ‘…there are rules that bind even divinity.’

Was this one such time, or am I searching for a way to justify the actions of a Goddess, whose reasoning is so far out of my grasp that it may as well be laughable?

This isn’t the time for a crisis of faith. There are fae out there about to die because they believe in Danu. They believe in me.

And I will lead them to victory or die trying.

But I can’t stand the thought of that fate falling on my mates.

The bonds in my chest prickle with concern and alarm, and a second later, Lore is in front of me, red eyes wide with confusion.

“What’s wrong, pretty pet?” he croons. “Pre-battle nerves? You know the best cure is to fuck them out of your system, right?”

I wrap my arms around him and smile into his neck. “That was the exact excuse you used three hours ago.”

He shrugs, hand rising to cup my nape. “Fucking and killing are very important parts of a healthy relationship.”

It’s so tempting to melt under the heat of the kiss he presses to my lips. To give in and let him strip me out of this armour, nip at my skin with those pointed teeth, and drive us both to ecstasy again and again until I forget about the battle waiting above.

But it wouldn’t be fair to the others. To everyone else stuck in the horrible calm before the storm.

“After.” I kiss the word to his lips as I draw back.

“Does the one who kills Elatha get special treatment?” he asks, earnestly. “Because I have a few ideas for what I’d take as a reward for good behaviour.”

Only Lore could turn killing the Fomorian king into a competition, or consider it good behaviour, but I suppose in a way, it is. Back in the mortal village where I was raised, husbands did far less for their wives and considered it reward-worthy.

“Very well,” I agree. “What is it?”

Lore leans in close, pressing his lips to the sensitive tip of my ear. “I want you to shackle me to the bed while you let the other four fuck you.”

Frowning, I lean back. “That doesn’t sound like much of a reward.”

The cheeky grin on his face should warn me of what’s coming, and his hand reaches between my thighs to cup me through my clothes. My armour makes it awkward, but he isn’t deterred.

“The reward comes after, when you let me loose. I’ll pin you to the bed and fuck your sopping, used, over-sensitive cunt until you scream so loudly that they can hear you across all five courts.”

And then, without even letting the image sink in, he blinks us both to the deck.

So not only am I mercilessly turned on by his words, I’m also standing in front of dozens of armoured troops, including my brothers, along with other familiar faces.

Ambassador Neila and her new mate are to my left, with the Hellebore Knights. Cyreus heads a small contingent of merrows and a larger group of golden-armoured Summer Court warriors, and of course, Florian’s knights are here, too.

My cheeks burn as I glare at my redcap, who removes his hand with a devious little grin, his triumph hitting me in a wave that makes his diabolical intention clear.

There’s no room for a crisis of confidence if you’re dying of embarrassment.

“Warriors of Faerie,” Jaro calls, tugging me against his side. “Today we end the scourge that has ripped families apart for generations.”

“Keep complimenting us, wolf,” Caed mutters and gets an elbow to the gut for it.

Sensing this could go badly, I step forward, out of Jaro’s arms.

“This is not a slaughter, nor a quest for vengeance,” I remind them all evenly. “The last few years have been hard on all of us, but Danu has made it clear that there is a place in her realm for those Fomorians who will bend the knee. Grant mercy to those who ask for it, free any of our people you find, and honour the terms of surrender, knowing that justice will prevail when the sun rises on a united Faerie.”

Who knows if my words make a difference? Many will die either way. At least now that I’ve said that, my conscience is a little lighter.

I let my words hang in the air, and Kitarni takes her space beside me.

“Goddess bless her loyal warriors,” she intones, wearing loose armour of her own, despite the fact that she’s remaining on the ship. “And Goddess bless Nicnevin Rhoswyn.”

“Goddess bless the Nicnevin!” The gathered warriors slam their weapons over their chests in a deafening crash that’s thankfully swallowed by the equally loud weather.

Jaro shifts, and I can’t help double checking that his charm is still stuck to the fur between his shoulders. Dare used his magic to ensure that the tiny metal disc will stay in place, keeping my wolf just as protected as the rest of us.

My gut somersaults, but this is it. There’s no turning back when every single fae with wings is already taking to the rain-lashed sky, myself, Florian, and Bree included.

All around us, the army bursts forth from dozens of glamoured ships. Prae, Gryffin, and Drystan lead those who can’t fly onto the rowboats, while others shift into animals and follow Jaro and Lore’s agile path across the rocks. It’s an awe-inspiring sight for all of three seconds before they disappear, glamours hiding them from view.

I don’t think it’s necessary just yet, but I’m grateful for the sense of safety it provides as I wind my fingers with Bree’s. Caed and Prae were both adamant that the Fomorians have never bothered to assign sentries beyond the cave’s entrance. Why would they when these are the first ships to make it across the Endless Sea without being torn to shreds?

The only reason we were able to was because of the refugees. Some of them even returned to fight alongside us and are now sticking like glue to an assigned fae partner who can share their glamour. That tactic was Prae’s suggestion. This way, one of the pair can use magic, and the other can deal with any iron obstacles that they come across.

It should be a relief when the rain stops beating down against my skin, but I shiver instead as the black clouds are replaced with a rocky sky gleaming with blue mushrooms.

We’re here.