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An entire armada of airships sails around me, all powered by the underfae’s crystals. It is a technology never known to the surface realms, capable of powering even the largest of our fleet. It took us several days to outfit the entire fleet with the solagems. We had to push the crystals as hard as we could to make it here on the full moon, cutting over Spring’s mountain ranges and across the ruins of the Briar.
Our soldiers stand in formation on deck, bristling with steely anticipation. Jack jumps from ship to ship. Though he’s not able to gain height with his ruined wings, they’re helpful enough to allow him to glide between the ships, relaying messages back and forth.
I glance down once more at the chaos of the battlefield, heart sinking as I see the underfae fighting other fae. I snatch a spyglass from a nearby crewmember and hold it up to my visor. Each of the underfae bear black eyes. Proof that Rosalina must have won them to our side, only for Sira to turn them. Thankfully, Kairyn must have been far enough away to resist that command.
I toss the spyglass back to the crew member, then raise up on the bow, my hammer appearing in a flurry of blossoms. “Aim for the war machines. Take them down!”
Our ships swoop in, cannons firing. The first trebuchet topples, then a second.
“Watch out below!” Marigold bellows, yellow-gold armor glittering, as she and Eldy throw handfuls of weapons and supplies off the side of the ship to our allies. Autumn cavalry snatch up spears and finely crafted bows, replacing the shoddy goblin weapons they wield. Summer gladiators grab steel swords, now able to dual wield, turning them from fierce to lethal. Winter soldiers who have lost their weapons take shields and attempt to form blockades.
We’re here for you, Petal.
The forces of all the seasonal realms are prepared to fight. I search for my brothers. Dayton’s river has soaked the earth, making the battleground thick with mud. He leads a battalion of sirens and pirates against the south side. As his trident spins, the water in the earth swirls into muddy whirlpools, sucking trolls and ogres down into it.
Farron’s on the back of his elk, leading a charge. His cavalry runs straight through a line of goblins, trampling them with hooves and paws.
And Kel…
Where is Kel?
I lean farther over the railing, holding on to the metal cables. There. He’s fighting three massive hobgoblins. But behind him charges a cave troll as tall as the mast of my ship.
“Kel!” I call, but I’m too high for him to hear. He doesn’t see it—
A flurry of green flame and shadows explodes, and for a moment, even the bright glow of the moon fades away.
The Prince of Thorns has arrived.
55
Caspian
Shadows. Flames. Briars. All three aspects of my magic, all three aspects of me, explode outward. Emerald light blinds my vision as I step away from the darkness.
I felt Kel and—
A giant, ugly troll brings a hammer down. I whirl, incinerating it in a torrent of fire. Then I turn. Keldarion swings the Sword of the Protector in an arc, lopping off the heads of three goblins, then faces me, blood-spattered chest and hair, ice-blue eyes wild. “You came.”
“Always.” I step closer to him. “And I didn’t come alone.”
Then I throw up my hand, tossing dozens of tiny seeds into the air. My shadows scatter them across the battlefield, where they sink into the wet dirt.
Into earth touched by tragedy—that’s where they grow best. Thorns sprout, growing bigger and bigger until they form archways.
Keldarion narrows his gaze as he stares at the arches, crackling and twisting with magic. Then, out from each shadowy gateway, my army charges.
Or the best I could do on such short notice.
With a mighty cry, the fae of Cryptgarden emerge. Not to fight with Sira but against her. Turns out I might not have been so awful a leader as I’d thought all those years. With their happy memories returned, thanks to the shattering of my mother’s green crystals, a little motivational speech was all it took to spur them into action.
To follow me.
And fight.
Hundreds of thorn portals open across the battlefield, and the lost and forgotten, hidden for years, decades, centuries in the dark, emerge on the surface once again.
“Cas.” Keldarion looks at me with astonishment.
