Banished (25 page)

I eventually spot three cowled figures with their arms raised, standing in the middle of a stone circle. Olga points and I see another circle of stones a few hundred metres away. Three more
cowled figures stand in a similar pose. ‘Listen.’

I close my eyes and I feel the vibration of magic under my skin and smile. ‘Fantastic,’ I say to her and she grins, nodding.

A lone figure is heading towards us up the slope. After a few seconds of staring I recognize my cousin Megan and let out a shout and run at her full tilt. We hug and I’m so happy to see
her that I can’t actually speak properly. She’s laughing and crying at the same time, and it freaks me out a bit.

‘Oh, God, Kit. We thought you’d gone missing. We heard about the house.’ Her eyes well up and I find myself crying right along with her. We talk at one another not making any
sense.

‘Why do you have phones if you don’t use them?’ I end up yelling.

She digs in her pocket and hands me her phone. ‘It’s dead! None of our stuff works here and we’ve not been allowed to leave.’ Then she spots Thorn and stiffens, stunned.
‘You found him,’ she says. ‘You’ve had the prince with you all this time?’

I look over at Thorn and beckon him closer to link arms.

‘I saved him from being a bunch of redcaps’ breakfast,’ I tell her. ‘Thorn, meet Megan, my cousin. Megan, this is Thorn.’

To my utter surprise Megan executes this perfect curtsy as if she’s in some Regency drama, dressed in silk and lace, rather than rugged hiking boots and a Barbour jacket.

‘Your highness, I am so pleased to meet you.’

Thorn doesn’t seem at all surprised at her curtsy. Instead he inclines his head graciously and takes her hand. ‘Miss Blackhart. The pleasure is mine.’ He bows over it, touching
his lips to her hand before straightening.

Honestly? What is this? A Georgette Heyer novel? My look must speak volumes because Megan steps away from Thorn, still smiling, and I can see tiredness mixed in her mischievous expression.

‘I’m just remembering my manners,’ she tells me. ‘It’s rare actually to meet one of the high king’s brood, you know? They are A-listers in the Fae
world.’ She rolls her eyes at me to show that she’s joking but there’s a streak of something beneath her jokiness that tells me there’s more to all of this than she’s
letting on. What worries me too is that we’ve only been apart a few days but she looks older to me, and weary. I wonder what exactly they’ve been through here.

Aiden’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I turn to look at him with a start of guilt, having completely forgotten about him, if that was even possible.

‘Are you going to introduce us or am I just going to smile at her all evening and no doubt die of unrequited love on a battlefield in the next few days?’

Megan’s eyes go wide at that and she looks past me, up at Aiden. I know what guys see when they first see Megan: a tall, very attractive blonde girl with masses of curls, big soft grey
eyes and a wide smiling mouth. She carries herself well and, like me, she owns her height, giving her decent poise. There’s nothing worse than seeing a tall girl not living up to her
tallness.

The biggest thing in the Megan arsenal is this sweet expression that hides the wicked sense of humour, intelligence and stubbornness, easily letting people think they can take advantage of
her.

‘This is my cousin, Megan,’ I say to Aiden. ‘Megan, this is Aiden Garrett. You know Olga, of course.’

‘So you’re the mysterious cousin that Kit’s been so keen to get to,’ Aiden says, his glance raking Megan’s lean form, taking in her no-frills outfit and the sword
hilt sticking out over her shoulder. ‘I now understand why she was so worried. You look like you need all the help you can get. Being around all these Fae must be very tiring. Have they
composed many love songs to your beauty yet?’

Megan’s laugh is the lightest thing ever and she grins up at him. ‘I’ve had a few proposals even, but fortunately your brother Shaun’s been looking after me.’

Aiden lets out a dramatic groan and clutches at his heart. ‘Damn his eyes,’ he says in a broken voice. ‘You’re lost to me already. I will have to turn to Kit to console
me now.’

Thorn is looking irritable already and keen to get going.

‘I think it’s time we moved on. I’m sure we’d all like to get dry and maybe get something to eat.’

With that he starts off down the embankment and we follow in his wake.

‘Your father will be so pleased to see you. He has been out of his mind with worry,’ Megan says to him after a few paces.

‘I very much doubt that, but it is kind of you to say so.’ Thorn’s smile is friendly but vague, as he focuses on a group of soldiers heading straight for us. Their weapons
gleam in the dim light and for a second I feel an air of menace. But then they salute smartly; the leader says something to Thorn in their rapid Fae language and stands back.

‘My father sent a guard to escort us to his tent,’ Thorn translates expressionlessly. ‘Apparently there’s concern about discipline in the ranks.’

Megan nudges me to prevent me from asking him what he means. Instead, the five of us are boxed in by the guards, four to each side of us, two each to the front and back, and a further two right
at the front ostensibly ‘making way’ for the small retinue.

It feels more like house arrest than protection. And I’m not a small girl, but these guys in their armour and helms look the business, making even Aiden appear a stripling.

It takes us time to make our way through the encampment. A lot of people stop to catch a glimpse of Thorn and some call out, welcoming him back. But a lot of Fae hang back and
watch, their expressions dark and shuttered.

Those who do call out to him seem to like him well enough, calling him ‘the young dragon’ or more formally, ‘your highness’. The guards don’t stop for anyone and
the path they clear for us is met with scowls. The soldiers’ faces are partly covered by their helmets, but their visible features show no emotion.

I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something very wrong. I casually drop my hand to the hilt of my sword, as if by accident, but Megan spots it.

‘Just relax,’ she whispers, so close that her breath tickles. ‘We’re walking through the Unseelie Court’s camp. Suola and Aelfric have been arguing since she got
here. Tensions are high.’

The guards do their best to prevent people crowding us, but it seems to make people more determined. I feel a tug on my arm and spin around, but the crowd’s closed up again.

Walking through the Unseelie Court’s camp is like walking through a nightmare. Creatures of all types surround us and my mind whirls in an attempt to categorize them. Ogres, goblins and a
smattering of redcaps crowd around a fire, prodding at something in a pot that looks suspiciously still alive. I see a group of stunning women, Sidhe by the look of them, with fine features, large
eyes and razor-sharp teeth. Their diaphanous gowns leave little to the imagination and I expect Aiden to ogle them. But he’s watching Thorn’s back with an intensity I find worrying.

He catches my eye. ‘This place gives me the creeps,’ he says. ‘Something’s not right.’

‘I know.’

The guards come to a halt and step aside, making space for a newcomer to approach. He’s dressed plainly in something like denim, but his presence is effortlessly commanding. He’s
handsome like most Fae I’ve seen, but – for want of a better description – he resembles a romanticized version of a Gypsy prince.

‘Where’ve you been, princeling? We were all very concerned when you went missing.’

For a second I’m shocked by his casual rudeness, but then he does an elaborate bow and when he straightens his expression is impish.

Thorn laughs, and seems to release some of his tension.

‘At least someone worried, Istvan,’ Thorn says, grinning back at the man, leaning in for a loud thumping hug.

‘A lot of people worried, your highness. Your father, but especially your mother. It is good to have you back here and safe.’ His gaze takes in our bedraggled and damp group and
introductions are made. But although he and Olga have met before, she gives him a frosty greeting:

‘If only the king had sent a message, we would have known to come here without delay,’ Olga says, her eyes cold. ‘Instead we were left in the dark, unsure of the next
move.’

‘He is the king,’ Thorn says, his voice warning. ‘And the king is always right.’

Istvan’s lips tighten but he nods agreement, though I wonder if I imagine a hint of anger in his eyes. But then he looks past Thorn to include the rest of us.

‘Yes! Of course he is.’ His voice is just a bit too jovial; I’m not sure what to make of him. ‘Come, why are you standing here in the muck and mire? The king and queen
await your arrival.’

Istvan gestures and the crowd opens a path. He leads the way, seemingly untouched by the rain and mud we’re slogging through.

‘So that was Istvan,’ Thorn says to me as we fall in behind him.

‘He seems pleasant. Happy to see you,’ I say.

‘Istvan was my tutor. He took on the role after the incident with Eadric. Without him I’d have been sent to a monastery for my schooling.’

Megan is quiet and I’m not used to it, so I wonder what exactly I’m walking into. I touch her wrist in Morse code.
Okay?
I ask. She shakes her head and looks bleak.

Our silent communication goes unnoticed by everyone except Aiden. Then we come to the royal pavilion itself. Here a cadre of soldiers with the most ornate armour yet stand guard, facing blankly
outwards. Their gazes don’t even flicker towards us when we come to a messy huddle in front of them and push into the tent.

Inside, the tent isn’t richly furbished and the man and woman waiting for us look as if they’ve not slept in weeks. Aelfric, High King of Alba, dominates the space. He has a lot of
charisma, I decide, but there is a coldness as he looks us over that I do not like.

Thorn’s mother, Dina, is taller than me, with striking Nordic features. Like her husband she’s dressed casually and she looks every inch the badass warrior I expected to meet. For
the longest moment we all stare at each other then Dina smiles, brightening the atmosphere.

‘Thorn,’ Dina’s voice is raw with emotion. ‘Thanks to the gods you are safe. We were so worried.’ She doesn’t give him a chance to speak and wraps her arms
around him. ‘Dear stupid boy. What were you thinking, running across all of Alba? You could have been killed.’

‘It’s not like I had much choice,’ Thorn says, annoyance tinging his voice. ‘None of the gateways belonged to us any more and my men were tired. We kept running to stay
alive.’

‘That was reckless, boy.’ Aelfric’s voice, like him, is cultured, rich and lovely to hear. ‘Running to the Frontier, of all places. You caused us no small amount of
trouble. Dina, let the boy go. You’re strangling him.’

Thorn is still while his father inspects him. There is nothing on King Aelfric’s face that indicates he’s impressed or unimpressed by what he sees. Then he nods and Thorn’s
shoulders lower marginally.

‘You have gathered quite the group,’ Aelfric says, examining each of us in turn. ‘One of Garrett’s pups, a Kassan and you – what exactly are you, my
dear?’

I’m startled to realize he’s talking to me. ‘I’m Kit, your majesty. I’m a Blackhart.’

He looks at Megan. ‘Interesting family, these Blackharts. Is there no end to your talents? Be at peace, little fighter. You are among friends here.’

My hand drops from my sword hilt and I smile weakly at him. Dina is still all about Thorn and she’s got her arm around his shoulders, speaking softly and rapidly. Megan shifts next to
me.

‘We need to talk,’ she whispers. ‘But not here.’

She leans against me, her arm wrapping around my waist, hugging me close. It feels so good having her next to me that for a second I’m so relieved I almost don’t care why she’s
being cagey.

‘Istvan? Let the ministers know we are ready for the war council.’ Aelfric nods towards Aiden. ‘Your father has been informed that you are here. He is on his way.’

Istvan has been watching all and steps forward, bowing quickly before leaving to carry out Aelfric’s orders. The queen gestures to one side of the tent, where there are low tables and
cushions.

‘Please, everyone, sit. The council is scattered across the camp. It may take Istvan some time to locate them all.’

She grasps Thorn’s hand as she leads the way and I’m struck by how alike they look. And how close they seem. I feel a pang of loss but suppress it, focusing instead on Megan.

Olga lingers to talk to Aelfric for a moment and from their manner, I suspect that they know each other from old. Occasionally I forget that Olga is someone to be reckoned with, and has a foot
in both the Otherwhere and the Frontier.

Megan nudges me, nodding towards Aiden where he’s hovering near the flap, a look of discomfort on his face.

‘How did you meet up with him?’ she asks me. ‘We’ve been going insane trying to get word to him and you for days now but every messenger we sent was blocked by Aelfric or
Istvan. It’s like we’ve been prisoners more than valued guests.’

I look at Aiden, giving him a wink when he notices us looking. ‘He was at Olga’s, looking for help to find his dad. It’s been tough on all of us, not knowing where you guys
were.’ I lean back against one of the cushions. Fatigue hits me out of the blue. ‘I am so tired, Megan. We’ve been on the run non-stop since the house disappeared. How did we not
know that a dragon exists in this world?’

Megan scowls at me. ‘Let’s not go there,’ she says quietly. ‘Not here, anyway. Kyle’s been going nuts trying to figure out what happened and how they brought the
thing over.’

‘Where are they?’ I ask her. ‘I thought they’d be with you.’

‘Marc’s not great. He got into a bad situation during one of the battles we had with Eadric’s lot. His arm’s broken and they had to stitch up a cut he took to his leg.
He’s in our tent and giving everyone hell, refusing to let any of Aelfric’s healers anywhere near him. He’s freaked out by their magic.’

‘But he’s fine around me.’