Page 175 of Reign

“Where have you been?” Finn demanded, his tone tinged with disappointment—as though he’d expected me to be eager for battle. “I was beginning to suspect you’d deserted.”

“I was with Fitzroy,” I replied, my gaze following the man in question as he stalked confidently down the sands, radiating power and assurance.

Finn sighed. “Of course you were.”

I held my tongue, knowing that this wasn’t the moment to kindle a quarrel with my brother. Instead, I turned my focus to the sea, watching as our ships steadily inched toward the horizon. Silently, I begged the gods to watch over Bash.

Then, suddenly, a wyvern descended from the skies, its great wings churning the air as it landed before us all. The beast’s talons raked deep trenches in the waterlogged sand before coming to an abrupt halt. As it lowered its belly toward the ground, I caught a glimmer atop its back.

Perched astride the creature was Mabina, clad in gleaming armor wrought from darkened bronze. Beneath her plated girdle, a crimson skirt flared—its flowing elegance a striking contrast to the rigidity of her armor. Her mousy hair, intricately braided down her back, hung heavy with rainwater, sticking to the sodden cloak that concealed her wings.

With fluid grace that defied the whipping winds, Mabina dismounted, radiating the confidence of a seasoned warrior. She strode toward Fitzroy and offered a swift curtsy upon reaching him. The two exchanged private words, their voices swallowed by the howling gale, yet the worry etched on Mabina’s furrowed features unsettled me deeply.

Fitzroy turned inland to address the soldiers gathered on the beach. “Allied forces are heading our way,” he declared. “We’ll fight alongside the fae, striving for a valiant victory—to reclaim Lyonesse for us and the Isle for them.”

Stepping forward, Mabina was poised with an air of authority. Briefly, she rested a gauntleted hand on Fitzroy’s pauldrons before looking to the men assembled before her.

“I’ve endured twenty long years under Regina’s tyrannous rule and have come to know the difference between freedom and enslavement,” she shouted, her voice rising above the lapping sea. “I promise you all—life won’t be worth living should she prevail today. I stand before you seeking unity, not merely to avenge my subjects’ lost liberties, the scars upon our wings, and the dishonored legacy of the fae—but to fight for all who have suffered since the abolishment of magic and the reign of the Silver Witch. The gods are with us, and those who dare defy their will—be they mortal or magical—shall face their reckoning. Soldiers, let us show our common enemy that they’re but rabbits, vainly seeking to rule over golden eagles. The fae will arrive on the backs of wyverns—do not be afraid, for they are your comrades.”

Her rallying cry awakened something deep within me—a fierce roar for war that radiated from the men, though I’d never felt it before now.

With a surge of zeal, I unsheathed my sword. “For Queen Mabina,” I cried, thrusting my weapon into the air as rain cascaded from the clouds above.

The soldiers echoed without hesitation, drawing their blades and driving them skyward. “For Queen Mabina!” they bellowed in unison, their voices cutting through the pounding rhythm of raindrops on their armor.

Fitzroy met my gaze, a proud glint in his eyes. I bowed my head with dutiful respect, and as I lifted it once more, the words spilled from my lips before I could restrain them.

“For the future ruler of Lyonesse—King Fitzroy!” I chanted.

“For King Fitzroy!” the soldiers barked back, their voices crashing against the stormy waves as their boots stamped upon the sodden sands in a relentless, thunderous beat.

Holding his head high and peering through the veil of rain, Fitzroy took a moment to absorb the sight of his loyal men. “For Lyonesse,” he declared, his voice strong—but the call-and-response was abruptly cut short by the sharp bleat of a trumpet.

“Prepare for battle,” Fitzroy commanded. His knights advanced, forming a long, unyielding barricade of steel to shield Cambas and the lands beyond.

Mabina swiftly remounted her wyvern, ascending into the rain-soaked skies to rejoin her army of fae.

I seized Finn’s arm, pulling him along as we waded through the ranks, placing more soldiers between us and the enemy. Some men fixed unwavering glares upon the waters—as though their piercing stares could smite the foe before battle commenced. Others trembled, droplets of rain flicking from their quivering hands as they clutched their slick weapons. And then there were those like Finn and me—our purple-tinged palms raised, poised to unleash our magical defenses.

A tug on my breeches drew my attention downward to find Billy’s fearful face. His tattered rags were gone, replaced by a hastily altered tunic and breeches with crudely frayed hems. A metal dish was strapped across his torso with a shoelace, and though his boots were crafted from the finest leather, they were comically oversized, fastened tightly at the ankles with ribbons. Judging by the golden brocade trimming the collar, I suspected this was Fitzroy’s handiwork.

“I’m ready for revenge,” Billy declared, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of making Regina pay for causing his blindness.

Finn elbowed me sharply, snapping my attention away from the vengeful goblin. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” he asked, peering upward into the unrelenting rainfall.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. Part of me wished to wait forever—while another part yearned to confront what lay ahead and end it swiftly.

I tilted my head skyward, straining to see beyond the dense gray clouds when something began to stir the mist. A soaring shape emerged, heading straight toward us.

At first, I feared it was Regina herself—descending to unleash fire and acid upon Lyonesse. Yet before panic could slicken my skin, more figures came into view—a sky teeming with majestic wyverns. Their ethereal riders clutched reins that looped around the beasts’ snouts on one end and were secured tightly around their own wrists on the other. As the fae descended through the rain, their gleaming armor caught the splinters of light. Among the riders, the pointy-eared elves were easy to spot—their faces aglow as if they’d harnessed the moon’s radiance—while the fairies’ lithe wings fluttered behind them like iridescent cloaks in the tempestuous winds.

Some riders alighted along the cliff edges, positioning their wyverns to face the stormy sea and brace for what was to come. Others circled overhead like vigilant predators, scouting the lands below for prey.

A swell of commotion erupted from the shoreline, though I couldn’t see beyond the fully grown men obstructing my view.

“What’s happening?” Billy asked, his tone laced with apprehension.

I turned to Finn. “Can you see?”