A Court of Wings and Fate

60. Emergence of the Unnatural

    Mikael woke with a groan, propping himself up on his elbows. Whatever drug that cloth had been soaked in was certainly potent. His head and chest ached and he could still faintly scent the unknown substance.

    Mikael blinked in confusion, studying the thin blades of grass that rested beneath his fingertips. He'd been moved somewhere. He lifted his head and horror crept over him. Conifer forests and ravines stretched through the foothills of Ramiel. Hundreds of unconscious Illyrian males were sprawled across the ground. A few of them stirred.

    He scrambled to his feet, thoughts churning with a terrible realization. The Blood Rite. He had been dragged into the Illyrian Blood Rite. And Estelle... Mikael looked around frantically, but there was no sign of her. In fact, he didn't recognize any of the Illyrians that surrounded him.

    Mikael clutched the sides of his head, recalling every detail he'd ever learned about the Blood Rite. Seven days, he remembered. It only lasts seven days. No one from the outside can interfere. We're trapped here until the Rite ends. We have no weapons, no magic, and... Mikael looked over his shoulder. Our wings are bound.

    He tried to move his own, then bit back a cry of pain. His wings were bound with ashwood chains. Judging by the scent of them, they were laced with faebane too. The Illyrians' wings were bound with ropes and rags. Why had his been chained with ashwood? Ashwood could be deadly to Fae of any kind!

    Mikael forced himself to draw steady breaths. I'll have to be careful and try to find a way to remove the chains, he thought. If even a sliver of that wood cuts me, the results could be bad. He clenched his jaw. Then again, maybe I won't be able to remove them. It's part of the Rite. There might be spells and wards over the mountain to ensure our bonds stay intact.

    Mikael couldn't sense any spells or wards, but he'd been left in the foothills, and he was willing to bet the perimeter around Ramiel stretched far beyond this spot. He reached for his magic to test his theory. He couldn't find it. There wasn't even a spark of power in his veins.

    The wards and spells here must be even more powerful than the ones placed on Aurora, Mikael thought. And there's faebane in my chains, which doesn't help. They might've drugged me with faebane too.

    More of the Illyrians were waking. He couldn't stay there for long. If the stories Estelle and the Boys had shared were to be believed, these Illyrians would be less than friendly towards him and each other. Estelle. He needed to find Estelle. What would she do once she woke up?

    Mikael's gaze traveled up the side of the mountain, towards the summit. The monolith, he realized. As soon as she realizes where she is, she'll start making her way to the top. I'll do the same and search for her on the way. Umbra squeezed his bicep and a few of Estelle's other shadows were wrapped around his arms. They were barely moving though. He guessed the magic placed on Ramiel was affecting them too.

    I need boots, Mikael thought, glancing at his bare feet. There were still patches of snow on the ground and he would definitely need boots once he reached the side of the mountain. He began walking, scanning the still unconscious Illyrians. At least I had clothes on when I was taken.

    Some of the other males weren't so lucky. A few wore leathers. Some had pants. Others had pants and shirts. Still more were completely naked. One male lay just ahead. He seemed to have a foot size close to Mikael's.

    Mikael lightened his steps as he approached, not wanting to wake the male. He sniffed, knitting his brows. The coppery tang of blood filled the air. His eyes widened as he saw the line of crimson ringing the male's throat. The male was dead. The Blood Rite had just begun and someone was already dead!