Page 65 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

My scream rattled in my ears when two paces from the raven the ground gave out beneath me, and I fell into nothing but syrupy black.

CHAPTERTWENTY

THE NIGHTRENDER

I killedthose who deserved to die. Women and men alike. There was no remorse to be found as I stared at the slender woman at my feet. The gash over her pretty neck was deep. I hoped she choked on her blood for a few moments before the Otherworld took her.

Edvard Vill had been a cruel, controlling bastard. Battering his women and mistreating his folk at the homestead. Even hurting Oskar regularly. The bit of subtle relief at his death was felt the entire journey away from House Vill. So, it was not in my realm of possibilities that one of his lovers the night I murdered him would return and meet us at the grove with fifty skydguard and Southern warriors.

She made her choice and she paid with her life.

The fight had halted our entrance to the grove, but it ended quickly.

Valen hopped over a deep crack he’d made at the first sign of trouble. A dozen troll folk and forest fae with sharp horns in their messy hair were swallowed up in the jagged ravine. Skyds were mangled and slaughtered, doused in innards and entrails from my mesmer.

Another dozen lay dead with dark veins clawing their faces, turning the whites of their lifeless eyes a sickly gray. Dead through blight poisoning the soil beneath their feet.

Sol Ferus sat atop a fallen log, nursing a scorch mark on his hand from using too much of his magic too swiftly.

Tor kneeled in front of his consort, wrapping his palm with damp leaves and berry oils Niklas passed around to everyone needing relief from wounds.

“You’re supposed to release the blight, not play in it,” Tor said, his voice light.

Sol laughed and rested his brow against his lover’s. “Had to handle them all by myself and they were bleeding stubborn about dying. Not to mention, I was waiting for your slow ass to come burn them with me. You never showed.”

Tor shook his head, kissing the side of Sol’s jaw as he rose to his feet. “Forgive me. I was trying not to have my throat gnawed on by a troll.”

“Excuses.”

They laughed and laced their fingers together. My thoughts turned to Malin. I needed to see her. She was a survivor. No doubt at the first hint of my mesmer she would’ve known there was trouble. Ari, if the man had done his duty, would’ve taken the two queens into the trees whether they’d wanted to or not.

“Kase.” Tova approached, flicking black blood from the dark fae off her fingers. “Oskar Vill was injured. Want me to try healing him?”

I frowned. “He fought with us. No hesitation, the bastard took up arms and stood with us.”

Tova smirked; her head tilted to one side. “I think we’ve died, because it sounds like the Nightrender is telling me to heal a skydguard.”

I scoffed and gave her a shove. “Just do it.”

Once Tova left to tend to Oskar, I took note of the Kryv. Isak and Raum stood close together inspecting a few gashes they’d earned in the fight. Lynx and Eryka helped Gunnar with a bad scrape over his lip.

I sent thanks to the stars Ash and Hanna remained at Felstad and tipped my chin toward Niklas as he helped Halvar see to a wounded Luca.

“All right?” I asked.

Luca arched a brow. “I was nearly gutted by some terrifying clawed fae. Tell me something, my friend, why in the hells are the Southern folk so horrid? Why?”

I laughed and nudged his toe with my boot. “Because the fates despise us.”

“Well . . . likewise.” Luca winced when Niklas spilled a murky elixir that looked like dark honey over the wound in his side.

“Where is she?”

Valen’s voice drew me away. The king was shouting at his sister. A thing I’d never believe possible. Valen was fearsome, but did not lose his wits unless . . .

Unless Elise was in danger.

I quickened my steps, a sudden panic heating the blood in my head. With one hand, I reached out and gripped Valen’s arm. “What’s wrong? Where are they?”