The Dark Fae pretended to be the most evil, vile beings around, but Ulrik knew the truth. They were like petulant children trying to get back at their parents, the Light Fae. It was an ongoing family war that had lasted for countless eons and showed no signs of halting anytime soon.
Ulrik had watched the Fae Wars with interest from the sidelines. He really hadn’t known which side he wanted to win—the Dragon Kings or the Fae. In the end, it really didn’t matter. He was as he had been for thousands upon thousands of years.
All he had to go on were his memories of when he could shift into his dragon form and take to the skies, to hear his Silvers around him, to know that he was a part of something important.
Ulrik stepped into the shadows as a group of three Dark Ones came toward him. He watched as each of them went through a different doorway. He closed his eyes and pulled the drawing of the fortress that he had memorized into his mind’s eye. With four routes already set, Ulrik’s gaze snapped open.
“I’m coming, Rhi.”
*
“Who were you talking to?” Kiril asked when he reached Phelan who squatted behind a hedge of bushes across the street from Shara’s house.
Phelan’s lips twisted regretfully. “I knew he’d call.”
Kiril didn’t need to ask who Phelan referred to. Con. “Damn. He’ll be coming, which means we need to be in and out before he gets here.”
“Con can help.”
“Do you know what the Dark would do if they caught the King of Kings?”
Phelan let out a string of curses.
“Exactly. Now, how many are patrolling the Blackwood house?” Kiril asked.
“Six, but they’re lazy, which means there are many more inside.”
Kiril studied the house and the men who walked the perimeter. “Let’s get them all out here.”
“What do you want to do, shift into a dragon and roar?” Phelan asked sarcastically.
Kiril smiled at him.
“Of course you do,” Phelan said with a roll of his eyes. “Are you sure the Dark willna see through my power?”
“Nay, but it’s worth a try. They can no’ see dragon magic so they might no’ see yours.”
“Your magic is much stronger than mine.”
“You’re part Fae, Phelan, and have a primeval god inside you. You’re formidable. Now use those special powers of yours.”
Phelan grinned before he unleashed his power. Kiril watched as an image of him as a dragon appeared in the street. It was odd seeing himself this way, and it made him want to shift immediately. The god inside Phelan gave him the ability to alter reality so that no one could know which reality was true and which wasn’t. It had helped the Warriors many times in their battles with the droughs.
“Here they come,” Phelan whispered.
More than a dozen Dark Fae rushed out of the house. Phelan released a laugh as he sent the dragon into the air and flying over the neighborhood.
“Lucky for us you’re able to alter reality that way,” Kiril said.
“We’re no’ going to have much time. How do you want to go in?”
Kiril slowly stood as the Dark followed Phelan’s dragon, spreading out through the neighborhood. “Over the fence, of course.”
They both rushed across the street, and with one bound, leaped over the eight-foot wooden fence. Kiril glanced into the sky to see Phelan’s dragon disappear into the clouds.
“What color did Shara say the doorway was?” Phelan asked as they crept through the garden.
“She didna. She said it was in the back to the right, separate from the others.”
“Let’s just hope we doona get it wrong then,” Phelan said with a dour look.
Kiril stole through the garden as quick as a breeze. He slid against the house when he reached the other side and waited for Phelan who joined him a moment later.
“Do you see a doorway?”
“I see many fucking doorways in this awful place,” he murmured crossly. Then he let out a breath and gave a single nod. “But aye. There’s only one near us.”
“Time’s a wasting,” Kiril said with a grin. “Tell me which way to go.”
“How about you follow me?” Phelan said a second before he pushed away from the wall.
Kiril let out a curse and ran behind him. He hated going through Fae doorways, and hopefully this would be the last time for a long, long while.
As soon as they were through the doorway, Phelan skidded to a halt, causing Kiril to have to sidestep so as not to run into the back of him. Suddenly Phelan was thrown to the left, slamming viciously against the wall. Kiril rounded on a Dark Fae that turned his magic on him.
Kiril didn’t want any alarms to sound, so he remained in human form and battled the Dark. He dodged blasts of magic and used his fists to punch the Fae. Kiril ducked another ball of magic and rolled, coming up with the push dagger in his palm.
He came up on his feet, ready to plunge it into the Dark’s heart. Phelan got to him first, sinking his gold claws into the Dark’s neck with a growl. A heartbeat later and Phelan took the Dark Fae’s head.
Kiril watched the dead Fae fall at his feet. He looked back up at the Warrior with his god released—evident by his gold skin and eyes, claws, and his fangs. “Well, that’s one way of doing it.”