Page 61 of Oaths & Vengeance (Realm of Zadrya #1)

Aella

T he summer heat was finally becoming more bearable as we edged toward autumn.

Unfortunately, my uncle’s recent behavior kept us all on edge more than usual.

He’d grown moody, erratic, and short-tempered.

I’d tried listening outside his office door this morning while he and Ulmar spoke alone, but he’d used a silencing spell.

None of the stones I had left from my mother could counter the magic.

Whatever was said in there, though, left my uncle in an especially foul temper.

He exited the office with a parting comment for his eldest son, spoken in a low tone I could barely catch.

“Make them see reason, or this is all going to fall apart. I need you married to her as soon as possible to solidify this alliance.”

My jaw dropped as I listened from the alcove where I hid.

“I’ll suggest a quiet ceremony for sometime soon,” Ulmar replied in a mollifying tone I strained to hear. “The king won’t know.”

Lord Morgunn grunted. “See that you do.”

As they passed by my hiding spot, unaware of my presence, I stood perfectly still and mulled over their conversation.

Ulmar had said he planned to get married, but there had been no further mention of it since.

From the sounds of their discussion, his intended wife wouldn’t be someone the king approved, yet he’d told me he already had permission.

High fae couldn’t wed without a monarch’s permission, but in certain circumstances, it didn’t have to be Zadrya’s. What if it were Karganoth’s instead?

I peeked around the corner. Rynn happened to be walking in the opposite direction as our uncle stormed down the corridor and crashed right into her. She barely managed not to fall. Then, he slapped and berated her for being in his way.

As she sobbed and cupped her cheek, my uncle marched past her.

I ran to comfort her once he was gone. It took several minutes for Rynn to calm down, so I decided it was best if we went for a ride to escape the madness.

What was my uncle planning, and why was it upsetting him?

I hated that I’d lived my life naively for so many years without noticing his scheming and treachery.

How I wished to the nameless ones that I could leave this place for good and take my sweet cousin with me. If only I could get rid of my curse. Short of killing my uncle, there was nothing I could do.

The thought had crossed my mind, but I couldn’t kill family—not even the awful ones.

Not to mention, if I succeeded, I’d have to face my cousin, Ulmar, who would most certainly kill me without hesitation, and my uncle’s loyalists would help him.

I couldn’t fight them all, nor spend the rest of my life hiding from them.

Rynn and I quickly secured our mounts and rode out to the forest. I wished Sariyah could have joined us. Things had seemed a little less daunting with my best friend here, but she had to return to work at Tradain a few days ago.

Interestingly, she seemed rather excited about spying for Orran and not the least bothered about helping him against my uncle.

Her father was the commanding officer for Therress’ army, but Norvin had never behaved suspiciously.

I’d always seen him as quite honorable, most especially with his treatment of his family.

Sariyah and I had discussed it briefly and decided he couldn’t be helping Lord Morgunn in whatever scheme he’d hatched, particularly as King Worden’s nephew.

He’d always been loyal to the crown above all else, especially after his father’s disappearance just over three decades ago. A mystery that had never been solved.

Something scratched at my senses as we followed a well-worn trail. I took a slow look around us, unable to pinpoint what bothered me. As our horses continued at a sedate pace, the feeling grew a little stronger, though I still couldn’t identify the source.

Rynn stiffened. “I think something is hiding in the woods. ”

“Yes,” I agreed, glad she was paying attention. “I’m not sure what, though.”

Both of our horses’ ears twitched, and their steps slowed.

They didn’t want to go any farther forward.

I gestured at Rynn, and we brought our mounts to a stop.

It was always dimmer in the woods because of the overhead canopy of foliage, but it seemed to be getting darker by the moment.

I handed my reins to my cousin so I could dismount.

All the insect noises and birds chirping stopped as I took a few steps. If something attacked, I wanted to appear the most vulnerable to give Rynn a chance to run with the horses.

A loud, baying noise rippled through the woods, bringing a chill to my bones. My heart shot up to my throat as I looked for the source, but saw nothing. The sound felt like it came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Don’t move,” I said.

It tore through the air again, longer this time.

I’d heard stories about this beast, but I’d never come across one.

Few who heard it lived to tell the tale.

Though it usually gave itself away with three haunting barks, one couldn’t run fast enough to get away.

It would kill us and the horses if I didn't take it down first.

“What is that?” Rynn whispered, eyes rounded as she sat still on her mount.

The final baying sound filled the woods, much closer this time.

“It’s a Cù Sìth.”

Shock filled her gaze. Most fae could go their whole lives without seeing one, but they were a bedtime story told to children so they wouldn’t wander off alone. Everyone knew about them. We just hoped they stayed a myth and never made an appearance.

I pulled my dagger, knowing we’d get no further warning.

A Cù Sìth moved without sound and didn’t appear until the moment before it attacked.

According to the stories, they were black, shaggy dogs the size of a cow with glowing silver eyes.

Their unkempt fur hid powerful muscles underneath that could tear a person apart.

No one knew why they came out sporadically to attack, as there was no discernible pattern to their prey.

Men, women, young, old, strong, and weak, all were vulnerable to the fabled creature.

“As soon as it attacks, take the horses away quickly,” I ordered in a low voice.

“But…”

“Just do it, Rynn.”

Gathering my magic into my non-dominant hand, I prepared myself.

A flash of black came from the corner of my eye.

I pushed a torrent of wind in that direction, hitting the massive dog in the face as it appeared between two mighty burchar trees to my left.

Its forward momentum slowed, but it didn’t stop.

The sound of horses galloping away sounded behind me.

I didn’t dare look back and kept my full attention on the Cù Sìth.

I’d never encountered anything that could resist such intense wind power.

The beast was exactly as described in the stories, except nothing could have prepared me for the cold, feral look in the animal’s eyes or that they were nearly level with mine. The shaggy dog was so massive that it could probably eat Rynn and me and still be hungry.

Step by step, the Cù Sìth edged toward me as the wind buffeted its fur, and its dripping jowls rose to show the pink gums underneath.

It was only ten feet away now. I didn’t see how my dagger would do any good against the raging beast, so I quickly sheathed it.

With the same hand, I concentrated hard to pull my light powers—desperate times called for desperate measures.

But before I could aim, the massive dog leaped.

It moved in slow motion as I continued to push torrents of wind with all my might.

It was hard to focus on a second magical ability simultaneously.

He clamped onto my left arm, sharp fangs digging deep into my flesh as blood poured from the punctures.

I screamed as the heavy gale I’d been pushing died, and I transferred all my power into my other hand, focusing it into a single beam of amber light.

It cut through the Cù Sìth just behind its front shoulders, cleanly slicing the dog in half.

Loud cracks and crashes sounded beyond that, but I ignored them .

My gaze met the creature’s silver one as I let go of my magic before the rest of the forest came apart.

A flash of relief came over its eerie eyes before they dimmed to dull black.

The back half of his body fell to the ground with a thump .

Slowly, his jaws loosened, and the fangs pulled from my arm as his front followed the rest of his body.

I fell to my knees, heaving ragged breaths.

My stomach curdled at the sight of the beast cleaved into two parts, with dark blood soaking the earth.

I turned my gaze away from it, and I clutched my wounded arm.

The look in the massive dog’s eyes at the end disturbed me.

It was as if I’d freed it from some horrible existence, and it was grateful for what I’d done.

Perhaps there was more to the Cù Sìth legend than anyone knew or bothered to learn.

“Aella!” Rynn screamed, leaping off her horse to run toward me.

I’d noted the hoofbeats running away when the dog attacked, but she must have come back as soon as the fight ended.

I was grateful she’d listened to me. She wasn’t equipped to deal with such a creature, though healers did have offensive measures at their disposal.

Those were never taught until they’d mastered their primary talent of helping people.

Otherwise, they’d become something else—a dark and twisted version no one wanted to see.

She was years from being ready to learn those skills.

“I’m okay,” I said, breathing through the pain.

She glared at me with her blue eyes. “No, you’re not.”

Blood seeped from the fang marks on the top and underside of my forearm, dripping to make a separate puddle from the Cù Sìth’s. Each bite wound was as wide as my fingertips. The creature had gouged so deeply that it nearly struck bone, and I grimaced at the sight.

“It could have been worse.” I was lucky, very lucky, all things considered.

Several of the trees in the woods couldn’t say the same, where they lay broken on the ground.

The ones near us were massive, and my light power had sliced through them like they were bread.

At least they’d fallen away from the path.

“Yes,” Rynn agreed, crouching to study my wounds. “And I think I can heal this.”

I frowned. “You can? ”

She’d been practicing her healing powers for four months now, and Briauna had reported that my cousin was quite powerful and advanced, but it still surprised me.

Most people with her gift needed a year before they could do more than repair cuts and scrapes.

Not to mention, she was supposed to be specialized in handling incurable diseases, not wounds.

Rynn placed her hands over my arm, brows drawing together in concentration.

A tingling sensation came over me where she focused.

I gasped. Before my eyes, the puncture wounds began to close.

The pain eased at the same rate as my skin knitted together, fang marks vanishing as soon as they healed. It took her all of a few minutes.

“There, done,” she said with a weak smile.

It must have taken a lot out of her. “I can’t believe you did that.”

She shrugged. “Briauna thinks I would have been a healer anyway, which is why I have stronger powers than normal. It’s still exhausting. She says it will get easier with practice and as I get older.”

“You’re amazing.” I gripped her shoulder. “Never let anyone tell you different, including our uncle.”

Rynn nodded. “He’s a chicken arse.”

I laughed. That was the term I’d been using for years to avoid using actual curse words in front of her. I’d been so distracted lately that I hadn’t used it in a while.

“Absolutely.” I pulled us both to a stand. “Let’s go home and report the Cù Sìth so they can deal with the body.”

No point in some hapless person coming along to find the split carcass.

“Okay,” she said.

I took one last look at the creature I’d killed and vowed to research their kind when I had the time. Something told me there was more to the story than anyone knew. Or possibly, no one had cared, but I felt like it should matter.

As I mounted my horse, a sebeska squawked from high above in the flat foliage of a burchar tree.

It flew down toward me. I held out my arm to let it land, wondering how long it had perched there.

If it had shown up during the Cù Sìth attack, it would have waited until it was safe before revealing its presence.

The fact that it had been hanging out somewhere high lent credibility to that theory.

They usually flew straight toward their target recipient without delay.

It wrapped its claws around my forearm, surprisingly careful of my bare skin.

With my free hand, I took the rolled missive from the bird as it settled its wings.

Tension filled me when I recognized Darrow’s familiar handwriting.

It had been a week and a half since his birthday, but I was still angry with him.

In the note, he gave a succinct apology for our last meeting.

It hardly made me feel any better. After that, it requested that I meet him in three days in Porrine at a park using glamour to hide my identity.

He knew I was due to visit my sister soon and wanted the use of my skills during the day when I usually couldn’t join him.

How he’d learned my schedule, I couldn’t say.

It varied some months, depending on my uncle and training.

At the end of the note, he promised it would be worth my while to sacrifice the time.

I looked the bird in the eyes. “He has a lot of nerve asking anything of me right now.”

A tilt of its head and a squawk was its only response.

“You can go back to him without a reply,” I said in a clipped tone. “He can wait and wonder if I feel like showing up.”

Then I lifted my arm, and the sebeska took off in flight. This day just worsened by the hour between my uncle, the Cù Sìth, and then Darrow’s message. Did I really want to give up part of my much-needed visit with my sister for my cold, uncaring husband?