She watched the useless Squires as they patrolled the paths below. They wore stern expressions, hacking at any of the fae-touched wilderness that got too close to them. She counted five different Squires but couldn’t spot their Knight. She didn’t know if that was because he was smart and stayed hidden, or lazy and was back at their camp ‘leading them in spirit.’

  The cultivators looked unhappy with their lot. It was just another mark of their strangeness, as most cultivators dreamed of being sent to a fae-touched realm. The sky was made of distorted rainbows, a deformed tent of ethereal fabric propped up by impossibly vast trees. The glamour was so thick you barely had to think about cultivating. That, and the place was littered with natural treasures.

  From her vantage point high on a natural shelf of branches formed in the looming trees, she watched them through the leaves below. They were an annoying wrinkle in the plan. If they managed to raise a warning too soon, there could be a problem. She heard some fresh curses and grinned.

  The fae realm was a dream for cultivators, but, like any dream, could rapidly turn into a nightmare. She watched as a fae beast—a Quillhog—came upon them and charged. The screams that followed told her two things: these Squires were chaff, and they had a good reason to have looked less than pleased to be on the front lines without a Knight to lead them. The fae beasts matched the Iron-ranked power of the realm and took poorly to cultivators disturbing them.

  Of the five, only two made it out alive, the Quillhog feasting on their fallen brethren. It was far less cute than its mundane hedgehog cousin. Something that tended to happen when you scaled anything up to the size of an ox and gave it spines longer than most swords—all of which radiated metal glamour.

  “Percy, are we good to go?”

  Gawain was right beside her, splitting his attention between the retreating group and fussing over his bird. Archimedes was not taking being cooped up in the fae realm well. He was not used to the average bird being bigger than him.

  “We’re good. Those bastards are a good distraction if nothing else.” Percy reached out, just able to reach high enough to stroke under Archimedes’ chin. The soft feathers tickled the back of her hand as the giant bird preened at the attention.

  “Alright, then. You know the plan?”

  “Do you think me a simpleton? I made the plan, Gawain! Get going before the lot of them work out how to stop squealing like stuck pigs.” Percy ignored her fussy comrade. He was the eldest and so tended to assume he needed to check things like a worried parent.

  “Alright. Here’s to hoping Bors hasn’t made any fresh enemies.” Gawain muttered as he prepared his travelling gear.

  “Don’t hold out false hope, cousin. We must instead have hope that any enemies he made were swiftly buried and were without friends.” Art came over and clasped Gawain in a hug, their armour clanging like a smithy.

  “Too right. Now remember, you must go to Fosburg and request Captain Ban. He’s the only Fos worth a damn apart from their Patriarch, who has been questing in the fae realms. With the Chox aligning themselves with our fight, they should be keen to help—especially if you hold the location of this realm over their heads.”

  The Chox’s sudden shift had shaken her. Their betrayal at the wedding had thrown off her plans badly and soured her opinion of the family. She sucked up her thoughts on that, deciding she’d unpack them later when they weren’t in mortal peril. That was personal. This was important.

  “Ah, it is indeed annoying to be reminded of the plan that we’ve laboured these last days over.” Gawain chuckled as he mounted the golden-feathered hawk. The height of his giant mount saved him from Percy’s raised fist.

  “We’ll begin the distraction. Swift winds and fair weather, my noble ally.” Art waved off Gawain, while Percy merely shook her fist at the knight. Their lives depended on this—he’d better return.

  “So we begin the assault now?” Art turned to her. She swore he must be doing something to keep looking like he’d just spent time at a salon, while she felt like she had been dragged backwards through a bush.

  It was the glowing blond hair that framed his blue eyes and regal brow that irritated her most.

  They’d both seen their hair change as part of their rise to Iron. Matching her Blood Gift, her hair had turned a matching dark red—not a terrible change and one that added to her image. That still paled in comparison to his transformation. His hair became as spun gold. Literal gold! Even worse, hers still always looked dirtier despite the darker colouring. He’s hiding some soap somewhere, I just know it.

  What she would do for a bath. A proper hot bath, a change of clothes, and ideally a spritz of her sadly dwindling supply of perfume were what she needed to feel more like her old self. She cast aside the thought.

  They’d been stuck on this mission for too long. Accidentally following the inquisitors they were targeting into a fae realm had at first seemed a blessing worthy of a greater Fae. Now, after being trapped here for two weeks by the group who’d followed them, it had become a curse.

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  The Divine Cultivators were getting regular reinforcements, which kept them trapped inside, and, worse, meant even if they did escape, they would be hunted down on the outside.

  “Let me just grab some ammunition.” She smiled as Arthur’s face creased in distaste. He wasn’t a fan of her second gift—not that she could blame him. It was a reminder of some of the vilest cultivators he knew. He’d held a low opinion of the Harkleys even before she told him the secrets she’d learned. Not her fault her gift had overlapped with theirs.

  She slid down the tree. The Quillhog grunted at her but didn’t stop her from gathering the spilt blood on the ground. The beast was quite full and wasn’t much of a climber. So long as she posed no threat, it wouldn’t care. What was I going to do, jump on it?

  The glamour flowed around her and resonated with both her gifts. Her dual gifts of metal and blood had taught her that the red liquid was full of iron. She gathered it into a pair of pouches at her sides, leaving her preferred flask untouched. Frustratingly, she needed ‘living’ blood for it to be at full power, and putting anything alive into her spatial ring killed it. Regularly gathering blood was essential before a fight. During a fight, blood tended to take care of itself.

  “Ready. Let’s go knock some heads together!” She moved to the other side of the tree and was met by Arthur, leaning casually against a root taller than himself.

  “You know, I think Bors has had an effect on you.” Art chuckled.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. I still think we could’ve brought him.”

  The decision to leave Bors at the bridge had been a long sticking point. They wouldn’t have been trapped here if he’d come along.

  “He needs to learn to be calm. The bridge will be good for him.”

  “You abuse his trust too much. Let’s move on.” Percy pushed down the urge to argue. She had to focus. The arrogance of royalty meant he never seemed to sense when to drop something.

  “Look, we need to do this now. They’re opening the door again today.”

  She didn’t give him the option to continue the conversation.

  They ran to the nearby cave they had discovered last week. She could hear the snoring before even stepping inside—it was impossible to miss, just like the way the gravel outside vibrated with each thunderous breath.

  “I still feel this is a bit underhanded.”

  “Art, the time to have second thoughts is before your cousin’s life depends on our actions here.” She cursed her oldest friend’s sense of honour for the thousandth time. He was a lethal combatant but completely useless at anything outside of combat. He was a very kind meathead.

  “It still feels like trickery,” he said, picking at it like a dog with a bone.

  “It is tactics, Art! Strategy is not dishonourable, especially when we are tricking a monstrous bear that may well still kill us if we get unlucky.” Percy hissed at him. Mercifully, a snore loud enough to shake the branches off the trees cut off their conversation.

  “Alright then, at least allow me to be down here to be the one to wake it.”

  Percy sighed. She had expected this. In fact, the plan wouldn’t have worked without it. She found it frustrating that she could so keenly rely on him to put his hand up for the most dangerous task. It was why she tolerated his constant hemming and hawing.

  “You do remember it requires being drenched in blood?”

  “I do.”

  “And fighting it rather than fleeing will get both you and your cousin killed, and probably me killed as well when I’m forced to interrupt.”

  “You were never this contrarian when I was a Prince. But yes, I won’t make a mess of your plan.”

  “In that case, close your eyes.” Percy felt her anger rise up. Why bother mentioning the past? Her glamour gripped the specially prepared bottle at her side.

  “Wait!”

  She did not wait. A moment later, the blonde knight was dripping, spluttering, and cursing.

  “Hmm, such foul language. Nothing I’d have expected to hear from you when you were a prince, Your Highness. I will go ahead and start laying the trail. Remember to get to the river and try not to die.”

  She didn’t wait around for whatever the Prince wanted to say. He’d probably say something entirely too well-meaning and kind that would make her feel stupid for soaking him. She didn’t need that right now.

  Percy threw herself through the forest, her Levity skill involving pulling her armour and blood around her like a single unit, seeing herself as a piece of living metal flowing from one place to another. She used her glamour to begin firing darts of blood. This wasn’t the extra blood she’d just gathered—this was far more precious.

  The blood in the flask at her side came from the Knight Commander of the forces on the other side of the gate, collected during their last failed escape attempt. The fae realm couldn’t handle anyone above Iron, which protected them from being chased by any Steel-ranked assets the Divine Cultivators had. It didn’t stop the bastard from waiting just the other side of the gate for them.

  That escape had been nearly a disaster, but despite their different ranks, Art had managed to hold him off long enough for them all to retreat back. The former Prince could be an idiot, but his combat skills reflected his family’s legacy.

  That failure, though, had marked the seed of their success. With her gift, she’d used her glamour to multiply the Knight Commander’s blood, and with it, traces of his essence. It was enough to lead the bear on a wild goose chase.

  The bear was also Steel rank and shouldn’t be present in the realm. Gawain, who made a habit of researching beasts, explained that this was why it was slumbering. It had grown too big for the realm and would only wake rarely. Unless forced.

  The roar that echoed through the forest slapped Percy like a physical weight. It was like the Evil Eye of a witch in auditory form. She doubled down on her sprint—it was miles to the Divine Cultivator camp, and she needed to mark the whole route so the bear could exact its ‘revenge’ on the foolish cultivator that had roused it.

  In the silence that followed the roar, Percy heard running feet of a cultivator giving their all to a Levity technique, and after a minute what she hoped was the splash of Art jumping into the endlessly looping river that roamed the realm. It seemed the fool had done what she asked. That faint reassurance was lost, though, as she heard the sound of stone being torn apart. Looking behind her, she saw chunks of rock sailing across the chaotic sky.

  Boulders the size of cottages smashed into the trees, cracking one of the giant trunks with a sound like thunder. As the rocks landed, they shattered, sending out flakes of stone that peppered the forest. All manner of creatures began to screech and holler, fleeing the disaster.

  Percy swallowed. Okay, maybe she’d miscalculated just how big the bear was.

  She brought her focus on the benefit. At least it’d make a great distraction. Then Gawain could get Bors, and between the two of them, they could get warn others, get help. Because if they didn’t need to be warned before, they certainly needed it now.