Page 17

Talon

Talon didn’t sleep that night, not that he would have been able to even if he tried.

He’d remained by the cottage door until Rion and Arianna’s heartbeats had slowed enough to tell him both were asleep.

Alive. They were both alive, thank the gods. When Rion had run, Talon feared it might be the last time he ever saw either of them. The Dark Fae had broken through the walls from multiple sides and he’d been determined to go down fighting. Then a familiar horn had echoed across the field. It was a sound that had once triggered his instincts to fight. But right then, it was the precursor to their salvation.

Brónach’s warriors had roared at the sound, their battle cries giving everyone a renewed sense of strength.

None had faltered after that. They’d beaten back the Dark Fae until Brónach’s warriors joined, providing the relief they so desperately needed.

Afterward had been the usual cleanup. The laying out of bodies so they could be identified and put to rest. The burning of their enemy’s corpses, in this case, the Dark Fae. And setting plans in motion to move everyone from the ruined village to a safer location.

Then a group of warriors had arrived claiming to know Arianna’s whereabouts. After questioning them, Talon and the others had followed, praying for a miracle.

Talon circled the last small house, keeping his footsteps silent in the darkness. There were warriors stationed along the border, each watching him with curious eyes. The male who wasn’t quite a Fae. It was a revelation he still wasn’t sure he believed.

A Witch—no—Weaver. But what did that mean? Why hadn’t his mother ever told him? Did she even know?

Talon let his gaze drift back toward the small cottage and imagined he could see the outline of a female in the distance. She blended effortlessly with the shadows, bending them to her will as she saw fit.

Raevina had once told him he’d been nothing more than lucky when it came to his encounters with The Demon. He’d almost believed her. But after sparing with the male over the last few weeks, Talon had reaffirmed his abilities to himself. Now he questioned those abilities all over again.

He’d always been stronger. More adept. He could do things that no one else could at his age. His magic was a force that rivaled many Fae ten times his age. He’d flown through the ranks, rising to take his place as a commander at an unusually young age.

All because he might not be a full-blooded Fae at all.

Talon inhaled the cool air and tilted his gaze to the stars. Wisps of clouds drifted by on a phantom wind. Crickets chirped in the stillness and nocturnal creatures scurried beneath the bushes and trees, trying to hide from his presence.

He saw an owl not far off, its large eyes watching the night sky with far too much intelligence to merely be an animal.

Talon continued moving. It was far better than standing beside Raevina in utter silence. He couldn’t think straight in her presence and could barely function when she was watching him.

And her eyes hadn’t left him since the Weaver’s revelation.

Talon wondered what she thought about it and whether she approved. Maybe she found him revolting now.

Fiadh’s hatred for half-breeds was well known. While Brónach kept them as slaves, Fiadh saw them as nothing more than animals. Lower than animals. They treated humans even worse.

Talon paused at the edge of the tree line and stared down a dark path that led toward the beginning of the mountain range. He shifted his gaze northward, toward Ashling’s real location.

Ellie was there and they’d be on their way to finally rescue her soon. Conall and his companions seemed sincere in that truth at least, it was the rest that had his mind whirling. Not just his, but everyone’s. He knew the facts had been manipulated, too much just didn’t add up, but the sheer volume of manipulation was staggering.

To think they didn’t even know the names of their gods. They had statues and temples and priestesses yet the entire continent was clueless. It was no wonder they seemed to have abandoned the Fae.

Conall wanted to gather information and destroy Ashling, but Talon knew could speak for all of them when he vowed to kill Vairik before ever leaving that place, fortress or no.

Talon continued walking the perimeter. He explored the far fields and the animals within, knowing full well Cara might take him on a tour tomorrow.

Rion had freed her. He’d freed many of the slaves that now called Levea home. Talon had grown up believing the male was nothing more than a monster. Rion had lived his entire life maintaining that facade, never telling anyone otherwise. Even now he wouldn’t defend himself against accusations.

Talon ran a hand through his hair. How different would their lives have been without Vairik’s influence?

Dawn crept across the horizon and lights slowly began flickering to life within the windows. He’d gone back once to relieve Raevina. She’d wandered off, that strange look still on her face, then Saoirse had arrived to take a shift.

Now he watched as males and females, humans, and half-breeds, and Weavers alike all began their day.

The smell of sausage and baking bread floated through the air, making his mouth water. Some stared at him, their gazes curious, but none approached to ask questions. He knew what they’d inquire about. Arianna. And possibly Rion, given that the people here seemed more curious than afraid.

He wandered past a few more homes, then settled between a pair of storehouses, leaning his back against the wooden wall as he watched their morning unfold.

The scene reminded him of Levea. He hoped the next time they set foot in that beautiful city that it’d be for good. Ellie and Kirian would be with them, both safe and sound.

“You’re Talon?”

He startled slightly and tilted his head toward a woman standing a few feet away. She held a bowl of water between her hands. Chestnut hair hung down to her shoulders and wide, doe like eyes watched him with a level of curiosity that had him standing a bit straighter. She wore a long dress, the material pulled tight around her middle by an apron.

“I am,” he said in a questioning tone.

She tilted her head and a gentle smile spread across her face. He might have called her human if not for the revelation about Weavers yesterday. Now he noticed the otherworldly presence in the air surrounding her. It made him wonder if this was how the humans felt around the Fae.

“I’m Róisín. Conall told me to seek you out today.”

“For what?”

“To work on runes. Didn’t he tell you?”

“He mentioned we’d practice at some point, but I didn’t think …” Talon trailed off.

“No better time than the present, right?” He didn’t move from the wall and her smile faded. “Unless you’re busy?”

Talon glanced around. It wasn’t as if they had time to lose, especially if they were mapping out the rescue mission today. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone with her. Not when a Weaver’s magic seemed limitless. He’d seen what Niall had done to the Fae under Ruadhan.

“Where?” he asked.

“Right here.” She nodded to the ground, then held up the bowl of water in her hands as if that was obvious.

Talon quirked a brow. “Okay.”

Her smile returned and she sat cross-legged in the grass, her skirt long and loose enough to accommodate the position. She waited for him to join. Though he was still uncertain, Talon sat across from her.

They were situated between two houses, out of the way of foot traffic, yet still close enough that everyone could see them in passing. Even so, he still felt too secluded.

“Conall told me you have Weaver blood in your veins.”

Talon shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You don’t believe Sive?”

“I find it hard to believe no one in my family knew.”

Róisín looked down at the water. “Perhaps they had their reasons for the secrecy.”

“Conall said it could go back a generation?”

“A few generations. Sometimes the magic fades away, but it can usually be awakened with the right prodding.”

“So, there’s a possibility that I just have a drop in my veins.”

“A drop is all it takes.” She looked up at him. “Weavers are not Fae. We do not discriminate between those who are full-blooded and those who are half-breeds. If you have an ancestor, then you are a Weaver, that simple.”

Talon glanced down at the bowl. “How do you plan to distinguish the power from my Fae magic?”

“I’ll sense it,” she assured. “It’s kind of like how Fae can scent feelings or lies. It’s not quite from your senses, it’s something deeper than that.” He raised a brow and Róisín waved her hand. “We have something called science on the northern continent. We study these kind of things.”

“You experiment on Fae?”

“Only those who are willing. They’re free to come and go. We don’t force anyone to do anything they don’t wish.”

Talon looked at the bowl again. “What do you want me to do exactly?”

“Manipulate the water.”

“I don’t need to learn a rune?”

Another smile. “Not yet. Maybe not at all.” He stared at her, waiting for an explanation. “We believe you already pull from the earth’s magic without knowing it. It’s why you were able to survive in the battles against your king.”

Talon tried not to react to the title. King. King of the Fae. Of the very land he walked on. And he’d fought against him for years.

Róisín tilted her head. “Does his position bother you?”

Talon clenched his jaw, hating that his face was revealing anything to this woman. He should have slept for an hour, just to keep his mind alert. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m sure. With your history—”

“Look,” he interrupted. “I appreciate your lot caring for Arianna but stop speaking to me as if you know everything about my past and our history.”

Light faded from her eyes. “Right. I apologize. I forget that you’ve all been through a lot lately.” She glanced around him and Talon followed her gaze. A pair of villagers passed with a child running ahead of them, twirling a fan in the breeze.

“The children have never known a life beyond these borders. You’re all special to us. You’re the main characters in stories we’ve been told our entire lives. You’ve given us hope where we saw none. We want freedom. We want to see the little ones roam the continent without falling prey to someone else’s twisted manipulations and we’ll do whatever it takes to get them there.”

He faced her again, noting the sheer determination her face. “They’re the ones who will ultimately guide our future. It’s our responsibility to erase the obstacles from our time so they don’t stumble when facing their own.”

Talon gave a subtle nod. Another moment passed, then the Róisín took a sudden breath and slapped her covered knees. “Right, shall we?”

Talon eyed the water again, then reached out and easily manipulated the liquid, pulling it up to float between them. Róisín studied the stream moving through the air as if it were alive.

“Freeze it.” He did, and her eyes lit up. “There, I felt it as soon as you shifted the liquid to another form.”

“Felt what?” He still wasn’t convinced.

“All right, let’s try something. Place the water back in the bowl.” He did as commanded. “Now I want you to draw this rune.” She traced a flowing symbol into the dirt.

“I thought you said I didn’t need runes.”

“You don’t, but it’s the only way for you to actually feel the difference in the magic.”

Talon studied the symbol as she drew it again, then replicated her movements.

“Good, now dip your fingers in the water and draw it slowly. You should feel the magic begin to form as you’re drawing the lines. Feel free to do it as many times as you like.”

Talon raised his brow again, but she remained still, watching as Talon dipped his fingers into the water, then hovered over the dirt. A droplet fell from his fingertip before he took a settling breath and drew the first line.

Nothing.

He continued with the second line, circling it around, tracing the original design with his eyes to ensure he got it right. By the third line, Talon felt it. A pull, but not from within himself. This one came from the ground at his feet, as if he were tugging on a gentle rope.

It was … easy. Effortless. And familiar.

He’d always felt the magic from within himself, but he experienced a pull from the earth too. Because he was drawing from two sources.

He’d always thought it was normal. That everyone felt the same thing. He’d even had multiple Fae stare at him in frustration when he tried to describe how to amplify their power.

And it’d been because they couldn’t do the same thing.

Because he wasn’t just a Fae.

Talon looked up at her with the rune faintly glowing beneath his hand. She smiled back, pride shining in her eyes. “You, Talon of Levea, are a Weaver.”