Jude takes a step back, dropping the hilt as though it bit her.
“Nice trick.” Her voice isn’t quite steady.
“I see you have things well in hand, daughter,” Bogdana calls to Wren. “I have the prince. Now, where is the High King?”
“Shoot them,” Jude snaps, ignoring Bogdana’s words and instead focusing on the falcons transforming into soldiers. “Shoot all our enemies.”
Arrows fly, soaring through the air in a beautiful and deadly arc.
Before they can fall, Wren raises a hand. She makes a small motion, as though brushing away a gnat. The arrows break and scatter like twigs caught in a harsh wind.
Jude has pulled two daggers from her bodice, both of them curved and sharp as razors.
Oak steps away from Bogdana, hand on the pommel of his own sword. “Stop!” he shouts.
The storm hag sneers. “Don’t be foolish, boy; you’re surrounded.”
Several of the falcons have notched their own bows, and though Oak believes Wren doesn’t want more death, if they fire, he isn’t at all sure she’d stop her own archers’ arrows from striking. It would be a drain on her power, and her falcons would take it much amiss.
“I have your sister,” he calls, because that’s the important thing. That’s what she needs to know. “I have Bex.”
Wren turns, her eyes wide, hair plastered to her neck. Lips parted, he can see her sharp teeth.
“He’s stolen her from us,” Bogdana shouts. “Believe nothing he says. He would use her to fetter you, child.”
Jude looks across at them, eyebrows raised. “Blackmail, brother? Impressive.”
“That’s not—” he starts.
“You have some decisions to make,” Jude tells him. “The falcons follow your lady. But perhaps she wants your head on a pike as much as the storm hag does. Give her an inch, and she might take your life.”
Bogdana answers before Oak can. “Ah, Queen of Elfhame, you see how useless your weapons are. You’re married to the faithless child of a faithless line. Your crown was secured with my daughter’s blood.”
“My crown was secured with a lot of people’s blood.” Jude turns to her archers. “Ready another volley.”
“You cannot so easily hurt us with sharp sticks,” Wren says, but her gaze keeps drifting to Oak. She must be aware that this is his family and he has hers.
Wren’s magic harrowed her before they got to Elfhame. She sagged in Oak’s arms just the day before. She cannot stop arrows endlessly. He’s not sure what she can do.
“Randalin is dead,” the prince tells the storm hag. “He conspired against Elfhame. He poisoned the Ghost. He planned this coup long before he tried to involve you in it. There is no reason to let him drag you down, too.”
“Don’t let him manipulate you,” Bogdana says, as though it’s Wren he’s trying to convince. “He’s using you just as Randalin hoped to— Randalin, who wanted to help put Prince Oak on the throne. See how the councilor was rewarded for his loyalty? And this is the person you would trust not to use your sister against you?”
Once Bex was safe, Oak thought Wren would be free of Bogdana’s control. And she is, but that doesn’t mean she’s free. He has Bex. He can control Wren the way Bogdana did. He could make her crawl to him as assuredly as if strips of the bridle were digging into her skin.
He doesn’t know how to convince her that’s not what he intends to do. “You care for your sister. And I, mine. Let’s end this. Tell Bogdana to stop the storm. Tell your falcons to stand down. This can be over.”
Bogdana sneers. “He gave the mortal to Jack of the Lakes. Jack’s likely drowned her by now.”
Wren’s eyes widen. “You didn’t.”
“He’s bringing her to you,” Oak says, realizing how bad it sounds. Not only that, but he isn’t sure it’s possible for Jack to bring Bex here, if he even guesses where they are. Oak nearly drowned, getting across.
“You believe that, girl?” snaps Bogdana. “They would have delighted if one of their arrows had pierced your heart. Let’s find the High King and cut his throat. Your falcons can watch the prince.”
Oak may be able to draw and strike before Bogdana can stop him, but if Wren tells her archers to fire, he’ll be dead. He has no magical cloak to hide behind.
Jude shifts her stance. “Anyone who goes toward that tent, kill them,” she orders her remaining Folk. “And you, little queen, better not interfere. If Oak has your sister, I assume you want her back in one piece.”