Page 63 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

From her higher vantage atop the basilica steps, Ravenna watched as three pairs of spelled manacles, bundled safely in layers of cloth and tied up in a discreet sack, were loaded into one of the side baskets of a waiting takin.

It wasn’t a vision that compelled her to take them along but instinct.

Perhaps, if their first plan of a dirk to Amaranthe’s heart didn’t come to pass, the manacles could be of use.

As Ravenna slipped her leather gloves on, she felt a gentle movement of air beside her. Looking up, she beheld Eydis grinning kindly down at her.

“Good luck, tristah . I fear you’ll need it.”

“Thank you, Eydis. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet. And don’t say it like you aren’t coming back.”

Ravenna smiled stiffly. She hadn’t let herself dwell on her lack of visions past Amaranthe’s fall.

Oh, she still had plenty of visions, but they were the same strange, unsettling images again and again.

White lashes. A white unicorn. Amaranthe falling.

The burn of saltwater in her eyes. Vallek in irons…

Stomach clenching, she pushed those thoughts aside. Today wasn’t the day for worries.

No, today was a show of confidence and strength.

Although the berserkers knew only that they headed for the western coast—the rest of the populace told simply that they went to negotiate with the fae—it was clear that this was no normal mission. Even when escorting Hrothgar’s party back to Innrinhom, there hadn’t been so much fanfare.

Atop their usual armor, all the berserkers wore burgundy surcoats with golden trim and the crossed axe emblem of Vallek Far-Sight.

Every other warrior at the edge of the column, alternating rows, held a banner that flapped in the gentle autumn breeze.

Even the takin and onagers were swathed in burgundy cloth, their halters and bridles inlaid with golden axes.

At the far side of the courtyard stood Vallek, resplendent in his regalia.

He too wore a long surcoat, trimmed in gold.

A heavy gold gorget hung round his neck, the leather strap hidden by his mating torque, and a circlet of gold sat round his head, a ruby as large as an egg inset at the center.

Ears and tusks capped in gold, with a dozen hoops dangling from his ears, and Hormhím strapped to his wide leather belt, he was every inch the conquering king.

Ravenna herself wore similar attire, Hilde delighting in playing with the form of the surcoat to make something for her.

And it wasn’t just Hilde and her seamstresses working long hours to prepare—the smiths and tanners were set to work on creating a suit of light, flexible leather armor for Ravenna, plated strategically in steel.

It was perhaps the most comfortable thing Ravenna had ever worn.

So many brilliant craftspeople had poured hours and hours of work into her kit, from her leather boots, cuisse-plated trou, fitted silk gambeson, etched leather-and-plate greaves, her own gorget with a unicorn engraved on its face, as well as her own circlet with a matching ruby.

The craftspeople had thought of everything, even hidden slits at the back to allow her wings through, if needed.

She didn’t plan on getting thrown off a cliff this time, though. Of course, she hadn’t planned on it the first time, either. So better to be prepared.

Ravenna and Eydis watched as Asta bounded up the steps. She, too, was outfitted in finery, a golden armband on her right bicep denoting her rank as the king’s sister. Vallek had asked her to personally guard Ravenna and help her with whatever she might need to prepare for the ambush.

Winking beneath the visor of her helm, she asked, “Ready?”

“No, but let’s go, all the same.” Turning to Eydis, Ravenna said, “Until we see each other again, tristah .”

In a rare show of affection, Eydis wrapped her up in a fierce embrace. “It’ll be so quiet without all of you.”

When Eydis released Ravenna, Asta leaned in to peck her sister’s cheek. “Will you miss me too, tristah? ”

“Just barely.” Eydis kissed both her cheeks. Squeezing Asta’s shoulders, Eydis commanded, “Run swift, be safe, return soon.”

“If you insist.”

With final farewells, Ravenna and Asta descended into the courtyard to take their places at the front of the column.

Nerves fluttered in Ravenna’s belly at the sight they made. Warriors bobbed their heads in respect as she walked up the line, some greeting her, my queen, my lady, Your Majesty. Ravenna returned their greetings, still not quite sure if this was real.

Her plans to move against Amaranthe had been barely more than ideas for so long. Even with Vallek’s help, with messengers sent, there wasn’t truly anything for her to do to further the plan. Now, though…Now, it was the beginning of the end.

What would that little halfling girl, hidden away by the sea with her mother, think of all this?

Striding down the line of warriors, crown atop her head, Ravenna looked like the warrior queen she might have read about with her mother in one of their storybooks.

With every step, she convinced herself she was such a queen.

It was surreal. Unbelievable. And yet, as she made the front of the column, it was she who took the offered hand of the king. It was she who received his kiss to the back of her hand and his rumbled, “My queen.”

It was more than her warrior’s attire that matched his own. It was more than the crown on her head and the emblems emblazoned across her chest.

Today, for the first time, Ravenna felt at the beginning of something great. Like running down a hill, legs wheeling to keep upright, she sped onwards, careening toward destiny.

Are you ready, Crow?

Ravenna turned to behold Oberon and smiled to see what a striking figure he made.

The night before, he and three other unicorns had been quietly let inside the city via the western gate and led up to the citadel. He refused to be left behind on this, insisting he carry her.

We’ve gone this far together, Crow, he’d reasoned. Let us finish it together, too.

He and the other unicorns had deigned to wear caparisons, the burgundy silk and golden thread announcing their allegiance with Ravenna and Vallek.

How handsome you are! she gushed.

Oberon vainly shook his mane. I know. It’s a good color for me.

Reaching up to pet his velveteen muzzle, Ravenna said, Thank you, Obi. For this and for always taking care of me. Even when I didn’t want to listen.

You are my herd and my foal, Crow. I would go with you to the ends of the world.

Ravenna quickly wiped at the tear that escaped. You’re a sentimental nanny goat.

And you are an impetuous foal. Now, get on, and let’s go impress these orcs.

It was Vallek himself who cupped his hands, offering Ravenna a leg up onto Oberon’s back. A cheer rose from the berserkers to see her mounted, and with a shy smile, she waved back. For his part, Oberon preened, making sure the light hit his horn at a good angle.

Raising his fist in the air, Vallek called, “Form up!”

In a wave of synchronized skill, every berserker found their place and stood at attention.

On Vallek’s right, Mattias raised a horn to his lips and blew. The call to move out ran down the line, and as one, the column swayed forward before the din of two-hundred sets of marching feet shook the cobblestones.

Ravenna waved and blew a kiss back at the basilica for Eydis and Hilde before turning forward to meet the cheering crowd.

Sitting tall astride Oberon, Ravenna kept pace alongside Vallek as they marched through the citadel gates out onto the main promenade of Balmirra. Flowers rained on them, littering their path. Petals were crushed underfoot, adding a sweet scent to the air.

Down they went through the city, applause and well-wishes following them as they made the switchbacks to the lower levels of Balmirra. They passed neither square nor street that wasn’t lined with orcs to see them off, calling out goodbyes and wishes for them to return soon.

And it wasn’t all for Vallek. She heard her name called, her title, too, and even cries for every warrior to protect her well.

Her heart ached to hear and feel their concern.

They were good people, the Balmirrans. When she and Vallek returned, she intended to do right by them. To put her past behind her and be the best of queens. For them.

First, she just had to slay a bad queen.

Oberon nickered . I suppose, if we have to go through with this foolishness, it’s better to do it with a small army of orcs.

It is indeed.

She still couldn’t quite believe it, but as the western gate opened for them, revealing the great scrubby expanse and serpentine path that awaited them, her heart began to thud.

Vallek put on speed, and together, they led the column through the gate at a charge. The berserkers roared behind them, the city cheered, and a blue autumn sky opened wide before them.

And so the end began.