Chapter Twenty-Nine

Una set a plate of food in my hands with a reassuring squeeze. I looked down at my wrists, hoping the cuffs would be gone as they had been in my dream, but they were still there, of course. I studied them as I swallowed my dinner mechanically, wondering what my mother had meant about not being able to teach me how to break through the bracelets.

And where is she? She’s not dead, but she said she might as well be. What does that mean?

Bres stormed into the tent, and I shrank away, my ration of bread tumbling onto the ground.

“The armies are ready. In one hour you will break the wards of the castle.”

I swallowed hard, noting how in spite of Bres’s confident swagger, a glint of nervousness flashed in his black eyes. He paced the tent and then, crouching down in front of me, he grabbed my face, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“My people have come this far so many times, but today will be the day we will liberate Tír na nÓg from the tyranny of Bodb Dearg’s rule.” Bres smiled, and my stomach curdled. “With you as my queen, there is nothing we cannot destroy.”

I stared up at him, taking in the lines of his perfect, angelic face. How could something so beautiful be so evil? My mind drifted to Teamhair and the invisible ward around the castle. What I wouldn’t give to build a ward around Bres, keep him away from me forever.

Of course.

I had no idea if it would work, but I had to try. Bres marched out of the tent, and I turned to Una. “I think I might have a plan.”

Bres’s armies stood in solid formation in a semicircle around the ward. The castle stretched into the sky, a blank face of white marble, the drawbridge raised. Someone had created a ward around the castle, the great dome gleaming in the sun.

Una walked beside me, and I leaned into her and whispered. “You know what to do. When I give the signal. Run. Run as fast as you can.”

She nodded, glancing back at the handmaidens trailing behind her.

Dead quiet settled across the pulsing, snarling army, and I took a step forward, gathering my energy. I had no idea if this would work, but I had to try to protect the girls, get them far away from Bres so he could no longer hurt them. As if sensing my plan, he grabbed my arm and glanced back at the handmaidens, and then flashed me a cold stare. I wrenched my arm away and closed my eyes, focusing my mind on the ward spanning the castle.

Its weaves appeared in my mind’s eye in intricate swirling patterns, dancing on my consciousness in a whirl of colors. Instead of pulling threads to unravel the ward, though, I blanketed my mind over the dome, taking care to encompass all the loose ends buried in the perimeter of the castle. Transporting the army taxed me enough, but my mind shattered under the weight of the ward as I willed it to fold through space and then unfold out again, placing it right down next to me—that is, between me and Bres and his army. The girls stood safe beside me, huddled together on the other side.

I opened my eyes, and a wave of relief washed over me as I saw Bres and his armies clamoring on the wrong side of the invisible wall, trapped beneath the clear bubble of the ward.

“Run!” I screamed.

The handmaidens sprinted to the castle, their retreating footsteps the only sound on the field.

Una hesitated, her hand on my arm. “I can’t leave you.”

I stared up into her warm eyes and blinked back tears. “Go,” I whispered.

She remained rooted to the ground, her features unflinching.

I shook my head. “I mean it! I’ll be all right. Just go!”

“You shouldn’t face him alone!”

Her shrill voice startled me, but I recovered quickly, grabbing her hand. “Whatever happens today, it’s my fight with Bres. I don’t know if these wards will last, or—”

Or if Bres will still control me through them.

“I need you to be safe.” My voice broke.

“I’m staying.”

With a savage push, I screamed in her face. “Get out of here, Una! I mean it! Go!”

She pushed me, and I staggered back in shock.

“No,” she said.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’m begging you. Please—”

She grabbed me by the arm, her fingers digging into my flesh. “Look!” She pointed behind me. “It’s working.”

I turned to face the ward.

His fist clenched in the air, Bres’s eyes flashed with fury, features contorting into a vicious snarl. I couldn’t hear what he shouted, but from the spittle at his mouth, I imagined him cursing up a storm in Fomorian. I closed my eyes, waiting for the cruel tug of the handfast, the excruciating burn of the cuffs.

But nothing happened.

I opened my eyes.

I walked up to the invisible dome, right up to his face, and brushed my fingertip against the ward. Small ripples in the weave radiated out in delicate, shimmering circles. Bres screamed, his arms flailing as he kicked the ward, slashing it with his sword. I smiled at him and raised both of my middle fingers, thrusting them in his face.

Whirling around, I grabbed Una’s hand, and we rushed to catch up to the handmaidens. “Wait!”

They raced back to us. “The handfast? The bracelets?”

“The ward is holding!” I cried. “The magic doesn’t work through it!”

High, hysterical laughter filled my ears, and they nearly knocked me down with squealing excitement. Holding hands, we raced to the castle walls, and I yelled up at the drawbridge. “Let us in!”

After a few tense moments, it crashed down with an echoing thud.