Page 77 of Beauty

Dark eyes narrow on me, letting me know she isn’t pleasedwith being relegated to the house. “I’ll stay here. For now.”

The air around us cracks and sizzles. I look up. It’s hard,but I can see Fae dropping from the cloud. An eddy wind is difficult to locateand harder to catch. I count ten and then twenty and then thirty soldiers dropfrom the savage-looking cloud.

Dellacourt curses as Roan has us stop, signaling the haltwith a single fist in the air. Dellacourt leans over. “Have you ever seen aneddy cloud that size? My uncle showed me one once, but it was tiny. This is atleast a hundred yards across.”

I squint as I look up. “I’ve seen bigger ones back home, butI don’t know a single person who could ride one that big. They’re hard tomaneuver. It takes a lot of magic to make an eddy cloud do your will. And totake that many passengers. Gods. Who is it?”

Roan lets us move once more, creeping carefully along thesides of buildings as we approach the town square.

I get a glimpse of what’s ahead of me. The square is coveredwith soldiers. Guards wearing the livery of Torin stand in rigid formation. Thecloud hangs overhead casting a dark, ominous shadow. It’s as though the cloudalmost makes the sky seem like twilight. I can see much more comfortably here.Even the vampires’ implants disappeared in the absence of ultraviolet light.I’m able to see that the villagers have made their way out of their homes andstand watching the guard, fear on their faces. The last twenty-four hoursweren’t kind to this village. The war came to them in a brutal fashion, but upuntil now only Torin’s guards were killed. I can see the villagers now fear fortheir own lives.

“It looks like they’re going to make an announcement. Oncewe hear what they have to say, we need to get back, pick up the others, andmake a break for it. I don’t want to be seen.” Roan’s voice comes over the commsystem I was given this morning. It’s a tiny device that fits to my ear andallows us to talk to everyone on the team over short distances.

There’s a final pop and a woman appears in the middle of thesquare. She’s a vision in black, her dark hair perfectly coiffed, not a strandout of place. Her black dress has silver threaded through it. She’s lovely. AndI know immediately that she’s a hag.

“Crap me a river. I’ve seen that face before, though she wasa blonde. That’s one of Torin’s hags.” It’s Dellacourt whispering now. “Doesanyone see a cat? Kill the cat first. I’m serious.”

The hag smiles a superior-looking grin as she looks around.She’s surrounded by soldiers, but I know who has the real power here.

“Good afternoon. I bring you greetings from your king.”

The village is silent. A horrible sense of anticipationhovers in the air. It seems to have weight, as though a heavy, stifling blanketwas placed over the whole village just waiting to smother everyone.

The hag stops her pacing. Crimson lips turn down and oneeyebrow arches. “You have nothing to say? This village does not respect ourglorious king?”

This village is full of peasants. They’re up againstwell-trained soldiers with weapons, and all the peasants have are farmingtools. And they’re burdened with their children. I’m happy when someone issmart enough to shout, “Hurray for King Torin.”

The rest join in, though it’s a half-hearted shout.

The hag’s foot taps against the dirt. “Where is the mayor ofthis village?”

Utter silence, and then someone is brave enough to step up.Reymon. The shopkeeper leaves his wife standing with their daughter and son.The daughter looks to be of marriageable age, but the son is still a youngling,his hand clutching his mother’s.

Reymon takes a deep breath, his hat in hand. “The mayor’sgone. It’s harvest time. The mayor took the guards to the next province. He’sguarding our shipments himself to make sure King Torin gets the percentage heneeds.”

The hag purses her lips. “Well, it is harvest time, and Idon’t really care about the mayor anyway. He’s an unctuous prick. So the goodnews, my soldiers, is we don’t have to worry about upsetting the localpoliticians. The bad news is all for you, Tuathanas’s people. The king is indanger. I need all young women past the age of sixteen to be gathered in thesquare. Any woman between the ages of sixteen and forty must report here immediately.”

I hear Roan curse in my ear. “It’s time to get out of here.Everyone fall back to the shop. We’ll locate our two lost packages and hit theroad.”

“What are they going to do with those women?” I watch Reymonhurry back. Both his daughter and his wife look to be in danger.

“It doesn’t matter,” Roan insists. “It only matters thatwhatever would happen involves two of our team members, perhaps three if Kajaisn’t in her other form when these soldiers catch her. Now fall back.”

The soldiers are moving, picking women out of the crowd andpulling them from crying children or angry men. One villager attempts to defendhis daughter. I watch as a sword slices through his belly.

It’s wrong. There it is. That feeling in my gut. It isn’tmerely triggered by Bronwyn. The warrior inside me had his first blood, and theutter injustice I see has that warrior begging for more.

“Your Highness, you said it yourself. This is not yourfight.” Roan makes his way back, placing a hand on my shoulder. “What is yourmission?”

“To save my bondmate.”

But Rachel Harper’s words ring in my head. These might beSeelie Fae, but damn if they don’t bleed like I do. And they love their wivesand children. The old and the infirm are struggling alongside the healthy, butthey are going to lose.

“Your Highness, I see the light in your eyes. This is amistake. There are too many soldiers. There’s thirty of them and nine of us,and three of us shouldn’t be fighting. Shim won’t be able to handle thesunlight if the cloud disperses and Gillian and the gnome should stay hidden.”Roan shakes his head. “I understand the need to stop an injustice, but we haveto think about our own women.”

A soldier hauls Reymon’s daughter to the center of thesquare. She stands, shaking in front of the hag.

Reymon wasn’t thinking of himself when he offered his home.Reymon opened his own bedroom and thanked the goddess that the Unseelie kingscame to help them.