Book 2 - Chapter 26

“Do you truly believe the events in the Rookhaven camp and Crownspire are connected?” Ciri asked as Noah rowed.

The three of them sat in a small rowboat, slowly making their way toward the shore. Waves softly lapped at the sides of their craft, and behind them the sun was just beginning to set. Ahead lay a long sand beach that gradually gave way to forest, and farther east they could see ships coming and going from Braemont’s harbour. Piper flew in circles above, squawking happily as she stretched her wings for the first time since they’d escaped Crownspire.

“And the Tollmen,” Noah replied finally, between strokes. “I think it all connects back to Ferrum Vale. I just don’t see how yet—and that scares me.”

Under normal circumstances, he would have been more interested in how the Fae ship had made such good time. Rounding the southern tip of the continent, then sailing north, should have taken at least two days by his estimation. Through a combination of magic and sailing skill, though, Lady Frostwing’s crew had made the passage in a little under a day.

These weren’t normal circumstances.

After finishing his report for the Fae lady, Noah had dropped into a trancelike state. His analytical mind shifted into overdrive as he tried again and again to piece together what was happening and why. Much to his frustration, he kept running into the same proverbial brick wall: he didn’t have enough information.

“We should talk about the plan for when we get there,” Ken said, leaning forward.

“We need to find Mara,” Noah replied, continuing to row.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” Ken shook his head. “I know you care about her, but based on what you’ve told us she’s obviously been keeping some big secrets from you. How do you know we can trust her?”

“Right now, I don’t have anything to base that trust on other than my gut,” Noah admitted. “But do you know anyone else in Braemont?”

“Hannah, perhaps?” Ciri offered.

“No.” Ken frowned. “I don’t know anyone else. And it would be out of character for Hannah to stay in Braemont this long. She could be anywhere by now.”

“Exactly,” Noah said. “And you’re not strong enough to row yet, let alone fight or travel. We need somewhere safe to lie low and recover. Mara’s the only person who can give us that, so like it or not she’s our best bet.”

Hopefully she can give us some answers too, he added mentally.

“Noah’s logic is sound,” Ciri agreed, looking at Ken.

The elderly Fae man looked between them before nodding slowly. “I don’t like it at all.”

“Me neither. But sometimes you have to make it work with what you’ve got.” Noah nodded to Ciri’s backpack. “Now that we’re gone, you should let Aelya, Thala, and Vela know what’s happened.”

Grunting, Ken opened Ciri’s backpack and fished out the twin mirror. He kept it angled toward himself and Ciri, preventing Noah from seeing the three Fae women. Even so, the concern in their voices was obvious when they saw he was on a rowboat—and only grew as he began to recount the tale.

The call didn’t finish until they’d reached the sandy beach. Ken had to convince his wives not to come and rescue them no fewer than three times, his voice staying calm and steady through their shouted protests. Eventually he won them over, persuading them that their leadership was needed at home now more than ever, given that Crownspire had been sacked.

Once they’d made landfall, they began the several-hour hike along the shore. Noah and Ciri took turns aiding Ken and carrying the bags, allowing him to slip an arm over their shoulders for support. His strength seemed to grow with every step, and by the time they neared the city he was walking under his own power—albeit with the help of a stick he’d retrieved from the forest.

As they approached the city gates, Noah instantly noted the change in mood from the last time they’d visited. What had once been a vibrant, multicultural trading city was suddenly filled with refugees. The surrounding roads that used to be packed with carriage and foot traffic were now lined with makeshift tents and injured citizens. Children cried as their parents traded whatever possessions they’d brought with them for food and clean water, and at least one fistfight broke out as the trio moved toward the closed doors.

They came to a halt in front of a dozen brown-coated city guards who stood before the gates. The men among them wore truncheons and swords on their belts, and the women held grimoires in their hands. Unsurprisingly they seemed far better armed than the last time he’d visited, wearing heavy leather gloves, steel skull-caps, bracers, greaves, and shields strapped to their backs. Each guard eyed the three of them warily, their gazes settling on Piper as she landed on Noah’s shoulder.

“What’s that?” one guard asked, nodding to the runt griffon.

“She’s with me,” Noah replied. “And we need to get in.”

“Nobody’s getting in.” The guard shook his head. “City’s closed, by order of Lord Crossfield.”

Noah fished the necklace out from under his armour and tossed it to the man. “This change your mind?”

He eyed it suspiciously, then looked back at Noah. “Where’d you get this?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Noah shot back.

“See, I think it is. Because I see a human travelling with two Fae—” he paused, furrowing his brow, “especially a male Fae, so I know you didn’t come by it legitimately. I’m betting you took this off a dead body before running from Crownspire.”

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Having reached the end of his patience after a long day, Noah’s frustration almost boiled over—before Ken hobbled forward.

“If that is your belief, then you should take us in front of your Lord,” Ken said. “Either you’re right—and you’ve just apprehended three criminals—or you’re wrong, in which case you’ve just escorted three very important people directly to him. Either way, you’ve done your job well enough to earn a reward.”

The man’s face went through a complex series of emotions before he finally nodded. “Fine. But I’m keeping the ring for now. And if you run or try any magic, these girls will make you regret it,” he finished, pointing to the human conduits.

Knowing how little combat magic most humans had, Noah suppressed a scoff as the man turned around. He felt Ken’s reassuring hand on his shoulder as the elderly Fae led the way, following the guards through the now-opening gate. Ciri interlaced her fingers with his, and he exhaled deeply before falling into step behind them. More guards rushed out past them as they entered, taking up their posts to ensure the gate was protected.

Idiots. They didn’t even take my crossbow or Ciri’s grimoire.

To his surprise, the city was a ghost town. Formerly vibrant streets were deserted except for guards, and only a few buildings still had lights on. The sound of their footsteps echoed up and down the road as they marched away from the main thoroughfare toward the keep, not saying a word the entire time.

They entered the large stone building through the front door, moving from cobblestone streets to floors covered in plush carpets. The entry hall evoked memories of the one Noah and Ciri had seen with Mara in Crownspire’s castle—albeit far smaller and far less impressive. Nobles and wealthy merchants turned to stare as they passed, all of them clearly waiting to enter the second set of iron‑banded wooden doors at the back of the room.

A quartet of guards stopped them as they neared the throne room. “The Lord is busy.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” said the guard who’d stopped them outside the gates. He handed Noah’s necklace and ring back. “These ones had this on them, and they’re demanding entry into the city.”

The guard blocking the throne room held the ring up to the light for a moment before looking at Noah. He pursed his lips, stroking his beard as he weighed the situation. Finally, he nodded and passed the ring back.

“Lord Crossfield doesn’t approve of pets,” he said, gesturing at Piper.

She growled, ready to pounce.

“Easy, girl.” Noah scooped her up, holding her securely before addressing the guard. “She stays with me. If you want, I’ll carry her like this so she doesn’t go anywhere. Happy?”

“Fine,” he relented. “If she shits on you, though, you’re cleaning it up.”

Noah fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.”

The guard produced a key from somewhere within the folds of his coat, slotting it into the lock and turning it. A moment later the door swung open and he stepped inside. Noah, Ciri, and Ken followed—only to stumble into him when he stopped abruptly a few feet in.

Noah looked up and took in the scene in a heartbeat.

On one side of the room, a man sat on his throne. He looked to be in his late fifties, black hair streaked with grey. His tailored red coat seemed chosen specifically to complement his tanned skin, and his beard was groomed so precisely it bordered on artificial.

More concerning was the sword he held to the belly of the woman beside him. Her complexion was darker than his, and her red dress matched his coat exactly. Though her black hair was also streaked with grey, she stood unbowed by age—tall and steady, matching the guards around her.

As if the sword at her abdomen weren’t enough, a strange figure held a knife to her throat from behind. Her leather armor was form‑fitting but thick enough to deflect glancing blows. Ashen grey skin, pointed ears, white hair, and blood‑red eyes marked her as unlike any creature Noah had ever seen.

In front of the trio stood half a dozen conduits. They wore the same armor as the grey‑skinned woman, but with balaclavas covering their faces, leaving only human‑looking eyes exposed. Grimoires in hand, they were clearly mid‑spell.

On the opposite side of the room was Mara.

She hung nearly a meter in the air, clutching her throat with both hands as her feet kicked wildly. The five guards she’d brought with her dangled the same way, struggling against invisible bonds as their breath was forced from their lungs. Mara’s blue eyes locked onto Noah the instant she saw him—pleading, desperate.

His body moved before his mind caught up. He pumped and leveled his crossbow in one fluid motion, firing at the nearest conduit. The bolt sailed across the room and struck her in the temple, killing her instantly. One of the suspended guards dropped to the floor like a stone as Piper took to the air, darting towards another conduit.

Chaos erupted.

Some guards lunged for Noah, forcing him to drop into a roll to escape their grasp. Others froze, torn between the two sides. Shouts echoed distantly as he popped back to his feet and sprinted forward.

Aim. Pump. Pull.

Firing on the move was far harder than he’d expected. His second shot went wide—by nearly a meter—but wide enough to hit a third conduit square in the chest, knocking her backward. He pumped again and adjusted, but by the time he took aim a second time Piper was clawing out the conduit’s face, sending her to the ground.

Magic chimed behind him as more guards crashed to the ground. Several sprinted toward the remaining conduits with swords drawn. The sudden charge was enough to break the casters’ concentration, releasing the rest of the suspended victims—Mara included.

Noah panned towards his next target—then froze as his finely trained instincts screamed a warning. He threw himself backward, narrowly avoiding the arc of a knife. He kicked out, just like Ken had taught him, but his foot struck something so solid it felt like kicking a mountain.

The strange woman.

More magic chimed through the air as she narrowed her blood‑red eyes at him. She shifted her grip on the blade, then blurred forward with impossible speed. The knife sliced across his arm, forcing his guard open. Her lips peeled back in a feral grin, revealing long, vampire-like fangs.

The grin vanished.

She halted abruptly, raising one hand to shield her neck. A heartbeat later, a telepathically‑guided knife slammed into her palm, punching clean through. She stared at the blade jutting from her hand as though it were an interesting insect rather than a serious wound. Ignoring Noah entirely, she turned toward the skirmish and scowled.

Noah backpedaled several more steps, risking a glance at the fight just in time to see the last of the black‑clad conduits collapse. Fury twisted across Mara’s face as she tore another page from her grimoire, telekinetically ripping a sword from the floor to join her assault. When he turned back toward the strange woman, the space where she’d stood was empty.

She was gone.

Gritting his teeth against the pain and blood loss, Noah leveled his crossbow again. Piper flew to his side as he turned in a slow circle, searching for any trace of the woman—but she had vanished. Deciding there was safety in numbers, he staggered toward Ciri and Ken, now shielded by Mara’s personal guards.

“You are injured,” Ciri said, rushing to his side.

“That… woman caught me with a knife,” he managed, dropping to one knee as Piper landed lightly beside him.

“Noah!” Mara shouted, kneeling beside Ciri.

“I do not have any more healing spells,” Ciri said, turning to her.

“I do. Here.” Mara flipped open her grimoire and shoved it into Ciri’s hands. “Take mine.”

“See?” Noah said with a weak smile. “Told you the dividers would come in handy if I’m bleeding out on the floor.”

Despite herself, Mara smiled—and leaned in to kiss him softly as the sound of magic thrummed through the air. He returned it with what little strength he had left, breaking away only when the spell finished. But when they pulled apart, her smile was gone.

“Stay here,” she said, her voice hardening as she rose and turned toward the man still seated on the throne. “I need to deal with this traitorous bastard.”

“You have to believe me, princess!” the man stammered as Mara approached. “I had no choice!”

Well, fuck. That explains a lot.