Demon-powered fae. Great! As if we didn’t have enough people to fight. Tristan would have his work cut out for him if he was going to fight those two.
“Rafe will stop you,” I said, trying to sound as positive and unafraid as I could. “And so will Santino.”
Oblek’s lips formed a cruel sneer. “I don’t think so, Princess Aurora. It was your dear King Rafael, or should I say the Black Wolf, who betrayed you.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be very nice of me, would it?” said Rafe, sauntering through the trees, his black cloak billowing around him as he walked slowly and steadily toward us.
A bunch of archers trained their arrows on him.
What was he doing here? How did he know?
Rafe held up his hands to show he was unarmed. “It astounds me how easily you can tell a lie, Oblek. But your little spy doesn’t seem to have your abilities. Danica confessed she works for you.”
“Danica,” I hissed. Why wasn’t I surprised? I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to look away from my attackers.
Rafe paused, his eyes taking in all our positions. Penelope was standing beside me, and Oblek had arrows positioned on her too. If we made one wrong move, one of us could die. I had seen the destruction weapons of blackened iron had wreaked on the fae in the village of Pixie Bush, and I wasn’t going to take any chances with my friends’ lives.
“You can’t help them this time, Rafael,” said Oblek. “That is, unless you brought an army with you.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Who says I didn’t?”
Oblek laughed. “I’m onto you, Black Wolf,” he spat. “This whole area is surrounded; we know you came alone.”
“That would be quite remiss of me, wouldn’t it?” Rafe quipped, his tone flippant. He was toying with Oblek and enjoying it.
Had he really come alone? Rafe was not stupid—he must have a plan.
While he was talking, he moved slowly closer to me.
“Rafe,” I said softly, “what are you doing?”
“What I always seem to be doing since I met you, my dear,” said the King of Eldoren, his lips curved up in a half-smile. “Getting you out of a tight fix.”
I glared at him. “I’m handling it.”
“Enough talking,” Oblek said and pointed his finger at me. “Kill the others and take the girl,” he ordered. “The general is waiting.”
It took only seconds for the arrows to be loosed from their bows. I heard the sharp twang of bowstrings as the arrows flew at us from all angles. I called forth my mage magic and threw up my hands, engulfing all of us in a mage shield. At the same time, Rafe created another shield that covered mine and took the brunt of the attack. Our shields merged together as one and held. The arrows stopped in midair, falling to the ground.
Oblek raised his eyebrows. “Your mage magic seems to be as strong as ever, Princess.”
A second set of archers emerged from behind the others, bows ready and black-tipped arrows nocked. The dark fae bared their teeth at Tristan, sharp canines flashing in the light of their swords, which were now lit up with red fire.
Oblek raised his hand, readying the archers to fire again. “It was a good show of resistance, but your mage magic will only hold for so long, and I have an abundance of archers and arrows.”
From the corner of my eye I could see Kalen moving toward the trees. Black shadows had started to snake out of him and wind around the closest tree, spreading to the others.
My eyes widened and my blood chilled when all around us the trees suddenly started to come to life. Brown and green shapes emerged from the tree trunks, separating themselves from the bark.
“Impossible,” Penelope gasped as she beheld the incredible spectacle. “Hamadryads. They haven’t awoken outside of Elfi in centuries.”
A scream pierced the air.
My head whipped around to see a hamadryad—a fae spirit of the trees, strong beyond measure with razor-sharp teeth and claws that could kill with a single swipe—pounce on one of the Drakaar. The Drakaar screamed in pain as the brown-skinned maiden crushed its neck, twisting it and severing its head with her claws.
The Drakaar and Oblek’s soldiers looked startled as they began to realize what was happening. Some fumbled for their bows while others dropped theirs, drawing their swords instead.
Shadows started to form around Tristan as his magic took shape. Tristan rarely used the magic of the night, but when he did, anyone could sense the power of the High Fae prince. It was only now that I finally realized why he was the most feared of Izadora’s warriors. This was a magic I didn’t understand, reserved only for the royal Night Court bloodline, a darker magic than most of the fae would dare to use. The magic of the night was a darkness that flickered on the outskirts of fae magic, an ancient calling passed down through Tristan’s bloodline to keep darker forces in check.
Tristan roared as his twin swords lit up with silver fire, and he charged at the scattered, confused soldiers. Half of them turned and ran before the fury of the Prince of the Night Court, as the Drakaar tried to get the warrior-mages to stay and fight. The dark fae ran at Tristan, swords flashing as they clashed with the Dark Prince of Elfi.
He blocked their blows easily and grinned at his enemies. “You are going to have to do better, dark fae,” he said, twirling his swords effortlessly in his hands and attacking again.
Rafe drew his sword, and mage soldiers went down like stones as the King of Eldoren released his magic upon them. He fought with his sword in one hand and a ball of magic in the other. Heads rolled and magic crackled all around us as Penelope
