Fey Touched: Season Four by Nicola Claire

Author:Nicola Claire [Claire, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

Episode Three

Chapter seventeen

Judgement Day

Kara

We'd gained a reprieve. Time enough to tend to our wounded and dying. The war was not over, but this part of the battle had been won. But at what cost? Too steep a cost, I thought wearily.

My boots sunk into the mud, blood and viscera around me. My back ached where my wings had lifted me off the battleground and suspended me above the melee. My chest hurt from breathing too swiftly and from seeing so many fairies cut down in their prime.

War was not glorious. War was not impressive. War sucked. Those who sought it were monsters, far worse than the monsters they unleashed on their foes through their wars.

Isoleth had escaped. Her fairies were dead. Her monsters called from the battlefield for her own protection. We had no choice but to follow her. If we left the Mad Queen alone for too long, she'd create another battalion of creatures to thwart us.

I made my way through the throng of recovering Dökkálfa, feeling an itch between my shoulder blades that had nothing to do with my wings. I felt scoured out, weak like a wet noodle, numb inside my head; my thoughts bouncing around and touching on nothing.

Aliath was heading toward me, his strides long, his powerful legs eating up the distance between us. I stopped moving, because moving hurt too much. I turned in a circle and surveyed the carnage, trying to see why I felt like I was being watched.

"Minn elska," he said as he made my side. His big, strong arms wrapped me up and made me somehow feel better. If only briefly.

The scents and sights surrounding us wouldn't allow me a long respite. What lay ahead of us was a heavy weight above my head, waiting for the right moment to fall and crush me.

"What happened?" he asked, his face buried in my neck, my hair. "We saw the right flank break. Where is Georgia?"

And just like that, the one thought I'd successfully pushed from my mind because it made no sense and hurt too much came flooding back in and I almost doubled up with the pain in my stomach. The gut punch that her desertion meant.

I shook my head. "Gone," I said, my voice raw from shouting.

I swallowed thickly and someone handed me a water skin. It wasn't my personal guard. Farloc was dead and lying somewhere in this massive mound of broken fairies beneath us. I realised, as I chugged the water back, that it was Goran. Goran, who was on Ljósálfar land and could have taken the opportunity the chaos of battle provided to find his battalion.

But he chose to stand by his King. By Dökkálfa. What had that decision cost him?

I reached out and gripped his arm. His green eyes met mine. I let him see my understanding. I let him pull on my magic to bolster him. He lowered his head, fisted his hand over his chest and then went to help a wounded Hyrða.

"Have I missed something?" Aliath asked.

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