CHAPTER30
The blow came out of nowhere. Cathy nearly fell off her oss as the construct stumbled, lurching to one side. For a dazed instant, she thought the Golden Knight must have lunged to attack her—but the griffin still stood a little way off, one front claw raised, frozen in the act of stepping into Ferghal’s domain.
It was Aodhan who’d shoved her aside, pushing his oss between her and the Golden Knight. His wand pointed straight at the armored high sidhe’s heart.
For his part, the Golden Knight did not appear the slightest bit alarmed. He looked down at the leveled wand, expression hidden behind his faceless helm.
“Aodhan?” Cathy hauled herself back upright, trying to calm her mount. “What—”
“Raise the ward!” Aodhan shouted—not at her, but at Ferghal. “For Herne’s sake, raise the damn ward!”
“What is the meaning of this?” Ferghal demanded. He’d manifested his sword, holding it high and ready. “The Golden Knight is now my guest, and welcome in my domain! How dare you threaten him?”
The griffin started to put a cautious foot down. Aodhan thrust his wand at it, the tip glowing brighter.
“Not. One. Step,” he snarled, never taking his eyes off the beast. “He’s not what he seems, Ferghal. Look through his glamour.”
From Ferghal’s expression, the mage might as well have demanded that he pull on a latex glove and tell the Golden Knight to bend over. “I most certainly will not! Lady Rose, muzzle your beast at once!”
Before Cathy could respond—though what she could have said to defuse the situation, she had no idea—Aodhan slashed his wand across and down. Shouting an incomprehensible word, he sketched a glowing sigil in midair.
“No!” Cathy yelled, as both Ferghal and the Golden Knight lunged for Aodhan. She kicked her oss forward, trying to intercept them. “No!”
Her mount’s wooden shoulder barged into Eislyn, knocking the alicorn aside—but Cathy could do nothing to stop the Golden Knight. Aodhan’s oss reared, lowering its head as the griffin pounced. Golden talons screeched across chain-wrapped antlers.
“Aodhan!” Cathy screamed as he tumbled from the back of the construct, disappearing into the maelstrom of stamping hooves and raking claws.
She scrabbled for the hilt of her sword. Eislyn and the griffin flinched as she drew the weapon, recoiling from the iron. Cathy brandished the blade in an indiscriminate arc, driving the fae steeds away from Aodhan.
The other oss, pushed beyond the limits of obedience, bolted for the horizon, leaving Aodhan sprawled on the ground behind. Flat on his back, he thrust his wand at the griffin, rattling out a spell.
Blazing energy shot from Aodhan’s wand, striking the griffin square in its feathered chest. The beast recoiled,—but the spell didn’t seem to do it any harm. The light just spread over its body, outlining every feather with a pearly white glow.
Except, as the light faded, the griffin’s feathers stayed white.
Cathy gaped at the creature, trying to process what Aodhan had done. Where there had been tawny fur, a white pelt studded with leopard spots now covered the griffin’s flanks. Round orange eyes glared above a dark beak, set in the flat, heart-shaped face of an owl. Its talons were no less sharp and dangerous, but its wings had become broader, softer, each snowy feather barred with black stripes.
The griffin crouched, hissing, tail lashing like a cornered cat. Eislyn had frozen, all thought of attacking Aodhan forgotten. Atop her back, Ferghal stared at the pair in equal shock.
“Morcant,” the knight whispered. And then, in a roar, “Morcant!”
Frost bloomed over the Golden Knight’s armor, coiling across his chest and down his arms. His helm faded into nothing, revealing sharp features set in cold, hard lines. Fractal patterns of gold and silver gleamed on his pale skin, marking his forehead and cheeks like tattoos. His icy eyes betrayed no emotion as he drew a long, glassy sword.
With a scream of fury, Eislyn charged, horn spearing for the unseelie prince’s heart. The owl-griffin reared onto its back legs, meeting the alicorn with razor-sharp claws.
Cathy didn’t wait to see who came off better in the exchange. Grabbing her oss’s neck, she hauled the construct round.
“Aodhan!” she shouted.
He’d managed to roll to his feet, away from the fight. Cathy drove her oss toward him, fighting to control the construct. Aodhan grabbed onto the creature’s wickerwork body, vaulting up behind her.
The moment Cathy felt his arms close around her waist, she kicked her steed. The terrified construct needed no further encouragement. It broke into a frantic gallop, leafy ears pinned back against its wooden head.
Cathy clung to its neck, her hair lashing her face. Aodhan crouched over her, holding onto the oss one-handed, the other gripping his wand.
“What happened?” she shouted back to him, the wind whipping the words from her lips. “Was that really Morcant?”
He nodded, the side of his cheek rubbing against her ear. “The Ice Prince himself, the right hand of the Winter King. Morrigan’s wings, how in the seven hells did he manage to disguise himself so thoroughly? Even I couldn’t tell he wasn’t seelie court.”