Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“You can’t hide anymore.” The quiet statement comes from Dante Dellacourt, who looks so much more serious than the entertainments on the Vampire plane make him out to be. I never expected the vampire to give up everything to follow his cousins on what is likely a lost cause.
It can’t be lost. It can’t. Not yet. After we get our bondmate out of Tír na nÓg, then it can all go to hell, but not before. After Bronwyn is safe in the Dark Palace, the Seelie plane can rot for all I care. We’ll close the Unseelie plane and live in peace. Let the other planes duke it out. This isn’t my fight.
“I know I can’t hide, Dante,” Beck allows. “The time has come.” He turns back to me and Shim. “We were talking to your father about the plan Dante’s come up with. In a week and a half, a formal group of ambassadors from the Vampire plane will be welcomed into Tír na nÓg. That means Torin has to open the plane.”
Torin’s hags managed to shut off Tír na nÓg for over thirteen years. Some still manage to sneak in and out. There are always cracks a smart Fae can slip through, but not an army, and that’s what the Seelie twins need. But if the magical walls are down, a crack in the veil that holds the plane closed can be widened by a decent enough witch. Then a small force might get through. What did Father promise them?
“You intend to raid Tír na nÓg?” I keep my voice measured.
Cian takes a deep breath, obviously calming himself. “We have to. Single assassins haven’t done the trick. We tried that at first, and Torin always finds them.”
“It’s the hags,” my father answers. “It’s why sneaking you into Tír na nÓg won’t work.”
Dante agrees. “It’s like a magical alarm system. At some point in time, Torin stole hair or blood from both of you. It contains your signature, like a scent to a wolf. The minute you step on the plane, Torin will know. So when it happens, it has to happen fast, because Torin will be ready.”
William Roan, the vampire mercenary, steps forward. “That’s what I’m here for. I can sneak onto the plane and start gathering Fae supporters. I’ve been running missions on the plane for years, gathering consorts for wealthy royals. It’s been a small operation, nothing that could truly gain the pretender’s eye, but I’ve made many allies. There’s a network of Fae waiting to join the true kings when the time comes. Tomorrow, I’ll take a squad and begin rallying the troops. By the time we meet up, the kings will have the army they need. Including, we hope, a contingent of Unseelie.”
I’m about to point out the problems with that plan when Shim leans forward. “We’ll go with Roan. We’ll find Bron and Gilly and bring them back.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” my father says. “I don’t know that I want all of my children on that plane. It’s too dangerous.”
“And the plane is huge,” Cian points out. “You could walk for days and never come close to her. Do you have any idea where she is?”
Shim’s eyes go a little unfocused. He speaks, but not to anyone in particular. “She lives in a tower. It looks out over long fields of wheat. She works there, her hands pulling and plucking, working the plow.”
I watch as Beck pales at the thought of his sister working in the fields like a commoner. I can tell Beck that there is still nothing common at all about Bronwyn Finn.
“It’s almost always hot,” Shim continues. “Lately when I reach her and I can see through her eyes, she’s preparing for the harvest. Tomorrow there’s a festival of some type. Bron helped put up a pole, and there are colored ribbons on the top. What do you think they’ll do with those?”
“She’s in the Tuathanas District. It’s an agriculture district. They grow much of our wheat, and the Festival of Threshing is celebrated with a maypole. The children of the villages dance around it. There is much merrymaking.” Cian looks at his brother, a smile growing on his face. “It’s perfect. It’s quiet and rural and days from the palace. No one would dream of looking for her there. Or think anything of men on the road at that time of year. Many traders are on the road. Goddess, Beck, do you really think she’s alive?”
“She’s alive,” I insist. “And we’re going to get her out of there before the war begins.”
Beck nods. “Yes. We have to put our plans aside. We have to save our sister, your sister.”
Dante’s mouth firms. “No. Absolutely not.”
Beck turns on his cousin, but Julian Lodge stands at Dante’s side. “I agree with Dellacourt. You’re not seeing the big picture.”