Heir of Fire (53 page)

She indicated where the waves broke on the reef and the small, calm space between them. “It's an easy access point from—” She swore. She ­couldn't say it.
Th
ere ­were no ships along ­here, but that didn't mean that one or two or more ­couldn't have come from Adarlan, sneaking in at night, and slipped in their violent, vicious cargo using smaller boats.

Rowan stood. “We're leaving. Now.”

“Don't you think they would already have attacked if they'd seen us?”

Rowan pointed to the sun. If he was about to tell her it ­wasn't safe for a queen to be throwing herself into danger, then he could— “If ­we're going to explore, then ­we're going to do it under cover of darkness. So ­we're going back to the stream, and ­we're going to
fi
nd something to eat. And then, Princess,” he said with a wild grin, “we are going to have some fun.”

•

Some god must have decided to take pity on them, because the rain started right a
ft
er sunset, thundering clouds rolling in with a vengeance to conceal any sound they made as they returned to the beach and began a thorough search of the caves.

But that was about where their favor from the gods ended, because what they found, while lying on their bellies on a narrow cli
ff
overhanging a barren beach, was worse than anything they'd anticipated. It ­wasn't only monsters of the king's making.

It was a host of soldiers.

A few men came out of the massive cave mouth, which was camou
fl
aged among the rocks and sand.
Th
ey might have missed them had it not been for Rowan's keen sense of smell. He did not have the words, he said, to describe what that smell was like. But she knew it.

Celaena's mouth had gone dry, her stomach a knot as the dark
fi
gures slipped in and out of the cave with disciplined, economic movements that suggested they ­were highly trained.
Th
ey ­weren't rabid, half-­feral monsters like the one in the library, or cold,
fl
awless creatures like what she'd seen in the barrows, but mortal soldiers. All of them aware, disciplined, ruthless.

“
Th
e crab-­monger,” Celaena murmured to Rowan. “In the village. He said—­he said he found weapons in his nets.
Th
ey must be taking ships and then getting close enough to swim through the reef without attracting attention. We need to get a closer look.” She raised her brows at Rowan, who gave her a hunter's smile. “I knew you'd be useful someday.”

Rowan just snorted and shi
ft
ed, a
fl
icker of light that she hoped was gobbled up by the storm. He
fl
apped over the cli
ff
edge and glided across the water, nothing more than a predator looking for a meal, then circled back until he rested on a rock just beyond the breaking waves. She watched him hunt, moving toward the cave itself, an animal looking for shelter from the rain. And then, keeping close to the towering ceiling of the cave, he swept inside.

She didn't breathe the entire time he was out of her sight. She counted the gaps between the thunder and the lightning, her
fi
ngers itching to grab on to the hilt of her sword.

But at long last, Rowan swooped out of the cave in a leisurely
fl
ight. He made his way up to her, then
fl
ew past, heading into the woods. A message to follow. Carefully, she dragged herself through the dirt and mud and rocks until she was far enough away to slip between the trees. She followed Rowan for a ways, the forest growing denser, the rain masking all sounds.

She found him standing with crossed arms against a gnarled pine. “
Th
ere are about two hundred mortal soldiers and three of those creatures in the caves.
Th
ere's a hidden network of them all along the shore.”

Her throat closed up. She made herself wait for him to go on.

“
Th
ey are under the command of someone called General Narrok.
Th
e soldiers all look highly trained, but they keep well away from the three creatures.” Rowan wiped at his nose, and in the
fl
ash of lightning, she beheld the blood. “You ­were right.
Th
e three creatures look like men, but aren't men. What­ever dwells inside their skin is . . . disgusting isn't the right word. It was as if my magic, my blood—­my very essence was repelled by them.” He examined the blood on his
fi
ngers. “All of them seem to be waiting.”

Th
ree of those things. Just one had nearly killed her. “Waiting for what?”

Rowan's animal eyes glowed as they
fi
xed on her. “Why don't you tell me?”

“
Th
e king never said
anything
about this. He—­he . . .” Had something gone wrong in Adarlan? Had Chaol somehow told the king who and what she was, and the king sent these men ­here to . . . No, it had to have taken weeks, months, to get these creatures smuggled ­here. “Send word for Wendlyn's forces—­warn them right now.”

“Even if I reached Varese tomorrow, it would take over a week to get ­here on foot. Most of the units have been deployed in the north all spring.”

“We still need to warn them that they're at risk.”

“Use your head.
Th
ere are endless caves and places to hide along the western coastline. And yet they pick ­here, this access point.”

She visualized the map of the area. “
Th
e mountain road will take them past the fortress.” Her blood chilled, and even her magic,
fl
ickering in an attempt to soothe her, could not warm her as she said, “No—­not past.
To
the fortress.
Th
ey're going a
ft
er the demi-­Fae.”

A slow, grave nod. “I think those bodies we found ­were experiments. To learn the weaknesses and strengths of the demi-­Fae, to learn which ones ­were . . . compatible with what­ever it is they do to warp beings. With these numbers, I'd suggest this unit was sent ­here to capture and retrieve the demi-­Fae, or to wipe out a potential threat.”

Because if they could not be converted and enslaved to Adarlan, then the demi-­Fae could be convinced to potentially
fi
ght for Wendlyn in a war.
Th
ey could be the strongest warriors in Wendlyn's forces—­and cause more than a bit of trouble for Adarlan as a result.

She li
ft
ed her chin and said, “
Th
en right now—­right now, we'll go down to that beach and unleash our magic on them all. While they're sleeping.” She turned, even as part of her soul started bucking and thrashing at the thought of it.

Rowan grabbed her elbow. “If I had thought there was a way to do it, I would have su
ff
ocated them all. But we ­can't—­not without endangering our lives in the pro­cess.”

“Believe me, I can and I will.”
Th
ey ­were Adarlan's soldiers—­they had butchered and pillaged and done more evil than she could stomach. She could do it. She
would
do it.

“No. You physically cannot harm them, Aelin. Not right now.
Th
ey know enough about those Wyrdmarks to have protected their ­whole rutting camp from our kind of magic. Wards—­like the stones around the fortress, but di
ff
erent.
Th
ey wear iron everywhere they can, in their weapons, in their armor.
Th
ey know their enemy well. We might be good, but we ­can't take them on alone and walk out of those caves alive.”

Celaena paced, running her hands through her rain-­wet hair, and then realized he hadn't
fi
nished. “Say it,” she demanded.

“Narrok is in the very back of the caves, in a private chamber. He is like them, a creature wearing the skin of a man. He sends out his three monsters to retrieve the demi-­Fae, and they bring them back to the cave—­for him to experiment on.”

She knew, then, why Rowan had moved her into the trees, far from the beach. Not for safety, but because—­because there was a demi-­Fae in there right now.

“I tried to cut o
ff
her air—­to make it easier for her,” Rowan said. “But they have her in too much iron, and . . . she won't make it through the night, even if we go in there now. She is already a husk, barely able to breathe.
Th
ere is no coming back from what they've done.
Th
ey've fed on the very life of her, trapping her in her mind, making her relive what­ever horrors and miseries she's already encountered.”

Even the
fi
re in her blood froze. “It truly fed on me that day in the barrows,” she whispered. “If I hadn't managed to escape, it would have drained me like that.” A low, con
fi
rming growl rippled out of Rowan.

Nauseated, Celaena scrubbed at her face—­tipped her head back to the rain trickling in from the canopy above, then
fi
nally took a long breath and faced Rowan. “We cannot kill them with our magic while they are encamped. Wendlyn's forces are too far away, and Narrok is going a
ft
er the demi-­Fae with three of those monsters plus two hundred soldiers.” She was thinking aloud, but Rowan nodded ­anyway. “How many of the sentries at Mistward have actually seen ­battle?”

“
Th
irty or less. And some, like Malakai, are too old, but will
fi
ght anyway—­and die.”

Rowan walked deeper into the woods. She followed him, if only because she knew if she took one step closer to the beach, she would go a
ft
er that female. From the tension in Rowan's shoulders, she knew he felt the same.

Th
e rain ceased, and Celaena pulled back her hood to let the misty air soak into her too-­hot face.
Th
is area was full of shepherds and farmers and
fi
shermen. Aside from the demi-­Fae, there was no one ­else to
fi
ght the creatures.
Th
ey had no advantage, save for knowing their territory better than their enemy.
Th
ey would send word to Wendlyn, of course, and maybe, maybe help would arrive in the next week.

Rowan held up a
fi
st, and she halted as he scanned the trees ahead and behind. With expert quietness, he unsheathed one of the blades in his vambraces.
Th
e smell hit her a second later—­the stench of what­ever those creatures ­were beneath the mortal meat.

“Only one.” He was so quiet she could hardly hear even with her Fae ears.

“
Th
at's not reassuring,” she said with equal so
ft
ness, drawing her own dagger.

Rowan pointed. “He's coming dead at us. You head to the right for twenty yards, I'll go le
ft
. When he's between us, wait for my signal, then strike. No magic—­it might attract too much attention if others are nearby. Keep it quick and quiet and fast.”

“Rowan, this thing—”

“Quick and quiet and fast.”

His green eyes
fl
ashed, but she held his stare.
It fed on me and would have turned me into a husk
, she silently said.
We could easily meet that fate right now
.

You ­were unprepared
, he seemed to say.
And I was not with you
.

Th
is is insane. I faced one of the defective ones, too, and it almost killed me.

Scared, Princess?

Yes, and wisely so
.

But he was right.
Th
ese ­were their woods, and they ­were warriors.
Th
is time, it would be di
ff
erent. So she nodded, a soldier accepting orders, and did not bother with farewells before she slipped into the trees. She made her footfalls light, counting the distance, listening to the forest around them, keeping her breathing steady.

She ducked behind a mossy tree and drew her other blade.
Th
e smell deepened into a steady reek that made her head pound. As the clouds overhead cleared further, the starlight faintly illuminated the low-­lying mist on the loamy earth. Nothing.

She was starting to wonder whether Rowan had been mistaken when the creature appeared between the trees ahead—­closer to her than she'd anticipated. Much, much closer.

She felt him
fi
rst: the smudge of blackness, the silence that enveloped him like an extra cloak. Even the fog seemed to pull away from him.

Beneath his hood, she could only glimpse pale skin and sensual lips. He did not bother with weapons. But it was his nails that made her breath catch. Long, sharp nails that she remembered all too well—­how they'd felt when they ripped into her in the library.

Unlike those nails, these ­were unbroken, the polished black curves gleaming.
Th
e skin on his
fi
ngers was bone-­white and
fl
awless, too smooth to be natural. Indeed, she could have sworn she saw dark, glittering veins, a mockery of the blood that had once
fl
owed there.

Celaena didn't dare bat an eyelash as the thing turned his hooded head toward her. Rowan still didn't give the signal. Did he realize how close it was?

A wet trickle of warmth
fl
owed onto her lips from one of her nostrils. She tensed, bracing herself, and wondered how fast he could move and how deeply she would have to slice with her long knives.
Th
e sword would be a last resort, as it was more cumbersome. Even if using the knives meant getting in close.