Queen of Blood and Vengeance (Secrets of the Faerie Crown #4)

53. Guinevere

53

GUINEVERE

Too late. The dark lioness ran fast—faster than any two-legged beast, human or fae. Faster than the Brutal Prince’s wolf. The only beings faster were those that ruled the skies. But as her stride stretched out, eating up the mountainous dirt and blurring the scrubby trees around her, she felt certain that even the fastest winged shifters would have struggled to keep up.

She had to be fast, because already it was too late. The succubus had come. A horde of them crawled across the valley, ever closer to the humans and elementals waiting unsuspecting in Eldermist. The patrols did not go this far; they would not see the enemy until they were too close, too late. There was nowhere to run. Through the rift into Baylaur there waited only more death.

The communication crystal—Gwen had to use it now.

Not now. Soon.

She had to know how many. How fast. How soon. She had to get all the information she could, even knowing that it would come too late. Who knew what other horrors Arran and Veyka had encountered in Wolf Bay. If it came to a choice between saving their own realm or the human’s, she could not fault them for choosing Annwyn. They were its anointed rulers. But Gwen would stay and fight here. She would die here .

But not just yet. Not until she had the information she needed.

The sand shifted beneath her paws, sending her sliding down the side of the mountain. She turned it to her advantage, let the momentum carry her to the next outcropping of stone, used it to brace her footing, and leapt over the next dune entirely.

She’d circumnavigated half of the valley now. In a few minutes, she would be just above the horde. She must get close enough to assess numbers, strength, and speed. From what she could tell from her first look, they were moving in a tight group. That information would be vital to forming battle plans. They’d only faced the succubus in massacre scenarios, where they overtook the unprotected males at such a speed that those remaining could not hold them back. But what would it be like to face a horde in the open field of battle? They did not have commanders as far as any of them had been able to tell, did not follow a strategy of their own. Ancestors, they did not need one. Not when they did not tire, did not feel pain.

They were drawn to Veyka. That was the most telling bit of information thus far.

Veyka was on the other side of the continent, in another realm entirely. What had drawn the succubus horde to the valley?

Thoughts changed and formed and changed in time with the cadence of her own bounds and leaps. But they all faded away as she cleared the next rise—the one that would bring her into direct view of the advancing horde.

They would be able to see her as well, but she was far enough and fast enough for it not to matter. Besides, she would appear as nothing more than a lion of the mountains, hunting for prey just like them…

It couldn’t be.

She shifted, not believing her lioness’s eyes. But the sight she saw now, the details in sharp relief, was the same.

Not a succubus horde.

She counted, doubling, stretching, estimating. One thousand. Two thousand. Three. Her heart stretched and groaned, unused to the emotion that pushed aside the worry and fear.

Not a force of darkness, but of light.

Elora marched at the head of the remains of the elemental army. And at her side, in perfect formation and keeping pace despite their smaller stature, was a company of a thousand human foot soldiers.