Gold glitters at the edges of the library, and the goblins cry in terror. Soldiers’ shouts ring in the air. The Autumn Guard has arrived.
Many are on horseback, while others charge in on foot. Gleaming suits of armor, fashioned from interlocked golden leaves, adorn the valiant warriors. In their hands, they wield spears that cleave through the goblin horde with effortless precision, hardly halting their swift, synchronized maneuvers.
“Prince Dayton!” a guard calls to me. “What in the seven realms is happening?”
I can’t very well tell him we opened a door for Caspian to bring his army into Coppershire. So I lie my ass off. “I don’t know. I heard goblins and I think I saw the Prince of Thorns.”
The Autumn soldier nods, then flanks me as we take on another onslaught. These warriors are powerful, but will it be enough to stop the might of the Below?
Spears dart like lightning into goblin bodies. Swords slice through rotting flesh, and arrows whistle past my ears as they strike. An Autumn mage raises her arms. Enchanted by her magic, the trees enclosing the library spread their branches, making way for more reinforcements. Archers flood the ramparts and roof of the keep.
Black blood sprays like rain, screams filling the air as goblins fall under Autumn’s fury. We might win this. I glance over my shoulder; Farron tears a goblin’s head from its body. At least he’s currently helping with the problem.
“The big one!” one of the Autumn Guard calls, gesturing to the archers on the rafters. “Take it down.”
The archers dip their arrows, then raise them, now writhed in flame. They pull back, aiming straight at—
Farron.
Abandoning my position, I sprint toward the brown wolf, shouting at the top of my lungs. “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
They don’t hear me. Swift arrows of fire fly down, embedding in the wolf’s body. He snarls, and his eyes flash with pain. His focus shifts from the goblins to the golden soldiers.
“This creature isn’t a danger to you!” I yell as a soldier prods the beast with his spear. Farron swipes out a paw, sending the soldier flying.
“He’s not a danger as long as you don’t get too close!” I amend quickly, though I’m not too sure about that. The flames around him expand. What’s going to happen when he reaches the city?
“Oh fuck,” I groan. Where are you, Ez?
Soldiers surround the Autumn Prince. One aims a javelin.
“No!” Water explodes from my palm, flinging the soldier back.
Her javelin clatters to the ground, and she fixes her gaze on me, wide-eyed. “What are you doing, Prince?”
“Don’t hurt him! He’s—” Proclaiming that this monster is their bloody High Prince will not help Farron’s situation. Another member of the Autumn Guard shifts toward Farron, spear raised.
I move without thinking, blocking the soldier’s advance. I kick him away from Farron.
And unfortunately, right into the path of a goblin. The creature chitters delightedly, then drags a jagged knife across the fae man’s throat.
Shit.
Not exactly what I had in mind.
“You… You really are all in league with the Below,” the soldier on the ground gasps. Her words are loud enough, others look our way.
“No, that’s not true,” I say, backing up.
“You bear their weapons!” Another soldier points a condemning finger at me and my thorn sword. “Keldarion let the Prince of Thorns into the Winter Realm, and now you bring his monsters here!”
“No,” I shout desperately. “Just don’t hurt the wolf!”
The wolf which is right behind me, not an ounce of recognition in its blazing eyes. It swipes a massive paw and strikes me across the chest.
Pain explodes through me as I sail through the air, toppling over myself before I land in a bloody heap on the ground.
Blinking through blurry eyes, five goblins waver above me. “Quick timeout?” I croak.
One goblin arcs its toothed dagger—then pauses, mouth sputtering with black blood, as a long silver sword protrudes from its belly.
The sword retracts, there’s a swift whirl, and then all five of the goblins’ heads fall cleanly to the ground.
A gloved hand reaches down to pull me to my feet, and damn if I’ve never been happier to see the Prince of Spring in my whole life.
“Had to get your swords,” Ezryn says.
“Tardiness accepted,” I say. “Are Rosie and Kel okay?”
“Safe in her room.” Ezryn sheathes his own blade and grabs two short swords from his holster.
“My babies.” I reach for them. “I could kiss you, Ez. In a mostly platonic way. The metal throws me off a wee bit.”
But Ezryn is too still, and my attempt to escape the situation is short-lived, because I know what I’m going to see when I turn around.
Flames dance in the reflection of Ezryn’s armor. Farron is coming for us.
“We have to protect him, Ez,” I say finally.
“Farron made me promise that if he was ever out of control… I would stop him.”
Now it’s my turn to still. I look up at the Prince of Spring. “Yeah, because he’s an idiot.” I tighten the grip on my swords, and my voice drops to a low growl. “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to kill me first.”
For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to go through with it. Then he turns. “I’ll destroy the portal and stop the goblins from coming through.”
I nod at my brother. An understanding forms between us—we’ll fight to the death to protect each other, even if one of us is fighting for the death of us.
I rush into the fray, moving with more agility and precision with my familiar blades. A sudden, piercing howl rips through the air. Farron writhes in pain, body thrashing amid the goblin swarm and encroaching soldiers. I promised Rosalina I wouldn’t let him get hurt.
The horde of goblins descends upon me from all angles, but I meet them head-on, cleaving and hacking through their ranks with deadly precision, leaving a trail of mangled bodies in my wake. I push to Farron’s side, and my heart breaks at the sight of him.
The wolf is covered in goblin bites and scratches, his fur matted with blood. He looks up at me with pained, pleading eyes. Do you know I’m here?
Chaos surrounds us, but I crouch down and place a hand on his smoldering paws, even as the fire sears my skin.
“Fare, listen to me,” I say, voice shaking. “You need to remember who you are.”
Farron howls in agony as another volley of arrows pierces his skin. He thrashes, and I roll away, barely escaping a swipe of his paw. I’ve never been able to get through to him when he’s like this. What kind of idiot am I to think I could do it now?
But I can do what I’m best at, and that’s fight.
My world becomes a rush of blades. Soldiers, goblins, Farron. Fighting three enemies that all want to see your guts laid out and not hurting two of them shouldn’t be that hard, right?
I try not to harm the Autumn Guard anymore than I must. I focus on knocking them out—which is unfortunate because I could really use their help against all these bloody goblins.
Through the swarm, Ezryn hacks at the portal of thorns, chipping away at it piece by piece. Beyond him, smoke rises into the air.
The goblins are burning Coppershire.
“High Prince of Summer!” A commanding voice rises over the cacophony, and I whirl to see Princess Niamh in full battle regalia, surrounded by armored knights. “Where is my son? Why do I hear reports you are in league with fiends of the Below?”
“You don’t understand, Princess. You can’t hurt the wolf.”
“Tell me where my son is and lay down your sword, Daytonales.” Fury emboldens Niamh’s voice. “Or I will show no hesitation with mine.”
“I’m protecting him!” I shout. “We were cursed! This is your son!”
There’s no flicker of recognition in her dark gaze. She doesn’t believe me.
I drop my swords and close my eyes. I delve deep within myself, feeling for my wolf.
Farron may not know I’m here, but I’ll use every ounce of power to protect him. Even if it means revealing our greatest secret.
My body shifts, the golden wolf breaking free of my fae skin. The goblins scatter as I let out a ferocious howl.