Rowan sat in a clearing, staring up at the snow-crested mountains, turquoise tributaries wending their way down through clouds and grey rock, disappearing into lush wild foliage only to reappear a ways down from her as a quaint river, sparkling and iridescent in the sun. She was staring at the rolling mountains, listening to the rustling of the trees and the babbling brook as if maybe they would tell her what to say. As if they held the knowledge from watching thousands of creatures interact since the beginning of time, of what she should do and say. And yet, they were simply obstinate, withholding the sage wisdom which Rowan was in such need of, simply to see her fumble.

Rowan didn't know what to say to her sister. She didn't even know how to be someone's sister. She sat beside Laina, looking at the landscape stretched out in front of them and not into those large churning oceanic eyes. Sitting side by side, their similar righteous anger over Joel's idiocy finally subsiding, it felt easier somehow. Easy enough to at least try. To reach out tentatively.

But instead, they simply sat beside one another in companionable quiet, loud thoughts penetrating the sunny glade.

Rowan was uncomfortable with the girl's emotions, the sadness and disappointment lingering there, so she waited for some time to let them subside with natures soothing embrace.

"Sooo..." Rowan said, fumbling, eventually ready.

There was a pause and then Laina looked at Rowan, her lips wobbling until she broke her angry stance and let a cackle out. Rowan joined in. It was funny how bad they were at this. Their peels of laughter were secreted away by the playful wind.

Once they finished the awkward giggling fest Rowan tried again.

"So...," they both snickered, "Joel can be an idiot, but he means—"

Laina held up a hand. "—well. Yeah, yeah, I guess. But he was still a massive jerk about it all. And it doesn't mean my pride isn't hurt."

"He likes the ladies. Not that he should get a reward for his restraint or anything since it should be a given, but since he was also drugged and he's a bit of a ... well, cad and maybe someone who sort of goes around with every and any pretty girl, I mean even some rather ugly annoying ones, really, so I'm just happy he had some sense."

Rowan saw Laina's face change abruptly, like a fist had hit her in the gut, and realized perhaps she'd said something wrong. 

"Every pretty girl? Even the ugly annoying ones!? What does that make me then?" Laina asked, clearly hurt.

Rowan was confused, so continued. "I've never seen him look at anyone quite the way he looks at you, if that helps." Laina wouldn't know how much it hurt for Rowan to admit that. She'd been beside Joel every step of the way, watching every flirtation. The way he'd looked at Laina earlier ... that was ... something else. Even if he wasn't ready to admit it. Rowan would have paid a pretty gem to see him look at her that way.

Laina shrugged, still focusing on the way the water sparkled off the stream. She thought Rowan meant something else. Something along the lines of ... without any interest. She held her wounded pride close to her chest. "He's right. Nothing happened between us. Nothing will happen. There is nothing there." She peered at Rowan then, a look of determination in her eyes.

Rowan raised an eyebrow at Laina. Nothing? Laina was young and Joel was stupid. Something. Rowan tried to keep her own emotions from showing, a yearning and jealousy she felt ashamed of carrying.

"So this is the sort of thing sisters are supposed to talk about, right? Boys?" Laina asked.

They both laughed again. It felt better, if still a little forced.

"Normal sisters maybe. Ones who aren't trying to win back a kingdom in a magical world with an evil Queen." Sisters who aren't interested in the same person, she thought but didn't say. "But it's a start," Rowan agreed.

Laina was picking at the grass, snapping off the green stalks. "So you and Joel, I mean ... you're ... uh ... best friends, right?"

"Best friends, yeah." Was that all? Was that the whole story? Rowan wasn't sure if she was being honest. But sister or not, this girl was still a virtual stranger to her. And Rowan had only just begun to understand the full breadth of her own emotions when it came to Joel. So she said nothing else except, "He was there for me when ..."

"When you needed someone," Laina continued. "When you were little and you burned down that camp."

Rowan's eyes snapped to Laina, alarmed. "How did you know that? Did Joel tell you that?" If he'd shared about the day he'd been orphaned, about the day they'd tried to burn Rowan at the stake, then that meant Laina and Joel were even more entangled than she'd previously assumed. It meant he was sharing their history, his emotions.

Laina squirmed under Rowan's direct gaze. "No, I ... uh ... I," Laina started than stopped. "If I'm not supposed to know I'm sorry. Joel didn't say anything, I just ..."

Rowan stared at the girl, confused. "You just? Did Sky tell you?"

"No, I ..." the girl, normally well spoken, was stuttering and she had dropped the shredded pieces of grass into her lap and onto the fabric of her purple skirt. "I just know these things."

"How?" The girl didn't have any aptitudes. No magic at all. They'd established that already. What did she mean she 'just knew these things?'

"I know these things ... about you. Mostly just about you?" Laina was ringing her hands. She looked nervous, like maybe she was going to cry.

"About me?" Rowan was so confused she didn't bother to try and soothe the girl. "You know what about me? I really don't get what you're saying."

Laina let out a big sigh. "You know that day they tried to burn you?"

Yes, Rowan remembered that day. Well. Had the burns to prove it. What the hell could this pretty other-worlder know of it? Rowan's expression must have been deadpan because the girl started to talk quickly, rushing and bumbling.

"I mean, of course you do. It's sort of like ... twin-sense but we aren't twins. That day, you called out for someone who loved you. I was sleeping and I heard you. I heard you. And I saw you. In my dreams, you were there, pushing the fire back. I was there when Joel picked you up. I was there when you were struggling. I was there when you practiced your magic. I was there when you cried because you missed mom and dad. I was there when you argued with the High Commander Wumble. The whole time I dreamt of this little girl in this strange world and I loved you and I wanted to help but I couldn't. To me you were real, but how could that be? You were a dream. But every step of the way, I was watching you. Rooting for you. I thought of you as my sister. I knew you. You called but I couldn't answer. I was there. I was with you the whole time. I loved you the whole time."

Rowan sat, shock reverberating through her body as she took it all in. Laina reached for Rowan's hand.

"And now I am here and I can help. We're together. We can be a family."

Rowan pulled her hand away as if stung and Laina's face crumpled.

A family. A family. A family? Rowan had had a family once. And it had been stolen from her, ripped away. And now the family she'd built had been her and Joel. And sometimes Wumble. She could feel her little unit changing, slipping.

Laina had been watching her – how, Rowan had no idea – but the girl didn't feel to her like family yet. It was too much, too soon. A forced intimacy. An invasion of privacy! All those times she'd felt lost and alone, she'd had a guest. All those times she'd been ashamed or vulnerable, she'd had eyes on her.

"How?" Rowan asked abrasively. "How?!"

The girl's eyes were misty and uncertain. "I thought maybe it was your magic? That you called for me? That it forged a link?"

Rowan got up, leaving the girl, the spy, under the shadow of the tree by the river.

"Look," Rowan said, "I need to think about this."

Laina nodded. "Of course."

"And, Laina?"

Laina looked back at her.

"Don't watch me."

And with that Rowan took off.

***

Rowan needed action. She needed progress. She needed to know they weren't flouncing around in fairyland puttering away important time. She couldn't begin to deal with her feelings about Laina. Or about Joel for that matter. She didn't pretend to understand any of it. There was too much emotional crap she just didn't want to deal with.

But party time was over.

Rowan needed to find Sky. On the night of the lovefest Rowan had skirted the perimeter before stopping at the outpost. She had guessed at the amount of Fae inhabitants from the Tara clan: perhaps two thousand, but most weren't fighters. However, this was only one of thirteen clans. Each had a clan leader. Each had guards and potential warriors. Each leader and clan could be swayed.

Rowan jogged towards the central gathering grounds in the hopes that perhaps Sky might be there, politicking with Finvarra. Instead she found Sky fussing over a green, sickly looking Will, who was lying prone on the grass like a wilting flower.

"Hard night, Kid?" asked Rowan. "Did you drink the happy juice like you weren't supposed to or what?"

Will snorted. "Or what. Definitely the 'or what' option."

"K, well, you doin' okay? I need your nurse." She gestured towards the Valkyrie, who was still wearing the emerald coloured gown from the night before, an illusion netting back showing off the tattooed wings underneath. She was also wearing a worried expression and looking uneasy at the idea of leaving Will's side. It was weird that a bajillion year-old Valkyrie-God person was interested in her little Earthling brother, but that was just another thing for another day that Rowan didn't want to touch with a ten-foot staff.

"I'm fine," Will said, more to the demi-goddess than to Rowan. "Go. We came here for help, right? Go. We need them on our side."

"Wise for a kid, kid," Rowan concluded. "Shall we, Sky? We need to talk to Finvarra about arranging a meeting of the clans."

It seemed they'd had an audience in the copse of trees behind them because three beguiling Fae emerged. Two looked humanesque with illuminated skin of glimmering pink, fuchsia hair and were rather scantily clad. Another slinked towards him in leopard spotted fur that looked a bit like a cat suit but was actual skin; two pointy ears, two breasts and two-legged, they curled up at Will's feet. The shiny ones flanked Will, wielding two large tree palms which they used to fan him.

"We shall take good care of the human," said the cat-Fae in a low purr. "We don't get sick, so we rarely get to play doctor." She smiled like she had caught a mouse.

"Hello, Sphylinxa. Good to see you again." Except Rowan was pretty sure the glare Sky was giving the Fae meant she wasn't actually pleased at all. History, thought Rowan. But Sky's sudden irritation was none of Rowan's business. Except for the fact that it was getting in the way of Rowan's business, given that these new arrivals seemed to be making Sky hesitate.

"Sky," Rowan barked. "Shall we?"

"Right," said the distracted Valkyrie. "I presume Finvarra is ... at home," Sky said as she finally began to drag herself away from the commotion around Will.

"Yesssssss," hissed Sphylinxa.

Sky nodded and looked at the cat-Fae begrudgingly before turning her back to the group. Rowan and Sky headed into the heart of the Fae forest then. Even on a hot summer day, the thick green canopy provided shade that kept them cool. Birds chirps and flitted and creatures --dear and foxes and jackrabbits-- wandered in and out. Sky made her way as if there were an imaginary path through the woods. Clearly she'd been wherever they were going many times before.

They arrived at a treehouse in a giant tree that was wider and taller and older than any tree Rowan had ever seen before. It was lit with twinkling lights and the house itself with crafted from the hollows with extra platforms in branches. It was the most stunning natural-looking home Rowan had ever seen, like a majestic tree fort citadel.

"Stay here," Sky advised, running up hewn steps. "I'll be back soon."

Ten minutes later she strolled out with Finvarra in tow. Except Finvarra looked angry, and stormed ahead of Sky.

"There's no need for a war council of the clans," they protested. "I told you already, we aren't going to fight with you. And you've used our past friendship to swindle me into this, Skuld. I will remember this and you will pay."

Sky leveled a look at the Fae royal.

Rowan smirked. Well this was some sort of progress at least.

***

Four hours of politicking and arguing later, Rowan decided that calling whatever this was "progress" had been generous at best. This was bullshit. None of Sky's or Joel's impassioned speeches had so much as swayed the twelve Fae council members, and the handful of representative warriors and elders from each.

It looked a proper war council, of course. Finvarra stood at the head on a raised platform with the High Queen, Oona, who was visibly and uncomfortably pregnant. Six high-fae of different Elven races stood on either side, formally, holding clan flags, the elders and other counsel members splayed out past them. The war council was held in a circular arena fenced in by tall, sharp-tipped wooden timber beams, and oak bench-bleachers for the Fae masses to watch. Sky and Joel did their imploring from the middle of the sandy arena, their friends standing behind them in solidarity. They were getting absolutely nowhere.

Screw this, Rowan decided. She knew the plan she was considering might be risky. But the Fae had already proclaimed they wouldn't be joining them in this fight for the world – over and over and over again and in different words – so Rowan figured there wasn't much to lose. Sky hadn't gotten anywhere. It was time for a different tack. Rowan looked around the circle of leaders, taking a big breath.

She stepped forward.

It was time to do things her way.

She addressed Finvarra. "So you won't fight? You've already made up your mind?"

Finvarra smiled at her as if she were a petulant child. "I see no reason to join a war, my dear human."

"Some of the Fae want to," she said, glancing around the council for sympathetic nods. "Some of the warriors have been wasting away here for too long. Practicing on nothing but stationary targets. I bet they've forgotten how to fight."

It was as if the Fae bristled collectively, tensing at her assertions. Sympathetic nods had morphed into angry glares. Never insult the Fae, that's what Sky had said. That's what Rowan was counting on. Well, that and one other thing.

"Our Fae are the best fighters and magic users in all of Htrae," Finvarra declared sharply. Murmurs of assent sent a wave through the audience, and all of a sudden all of the Fae were on the same side and in fighting spirit.

"So you say," Rowan shrugged, her swagger as natural as breathing. "I haven't seen any proof of that. In fact," she paused, inspecting the dirt under her fingernails, "I saw a bunch of soldiers slacking the other night. I could have whupped all of them."

Finvarra burst out laughing. "Oh really? I'm sure our Captain of the Guard might have something to say about that."

Rowan was nervous to make eye contact with Nythander. This wasn't meant to be personal, just business. And that blow had been below the belt. She glanced quickly to a set of brooding eyes, muscled tattooed arms crossed over a chest, holding a nonchalant stance and yet still somehow displaying a sense of wary alertness. What the hell are you doing, those eyes said. Don't.

Too late, Rowan thought.

"Why don't we make a bet? A deal. You seem awfully eager to watch me try to beat your best. But if you don't think they can win..." Rowan taunted.

Sky whispered a breathy sharp NO on an intake of air that was barely audible just as Laina let out a gasp behind Rowan. She could guess the expressions of her friends at her back. Joel was going to kill her, but that was a problem for later. Meanwhile, her adversary, Finvarra, was looking at her eagerly, excitement in those eyes of sunlight. Rowan hoped she looked a rather tasty, naïve and easy meal.

Bite, damn it.

Rowan was bored. Sick of waiting. She wasn't a patient person. Plus, this was going to be fun. It was time for her to do something she was really good at instead of sitting around twiddling her thumbs, hoping her kingdom might make its way back to her on its own.

Rowan strolled into the circle now, as cocky as can be, taking centre stage, milking the spotlight.

"Let's make a wager. If I can beat a warrior of your choosing in one-on-one combat, then you join the war."

Finvarra laughed. "The stakes are too high, darling." But they looked oh-so-tempted.

Rowan made a point to appear defeated, like she hadn't already known how this would play out, hadn't played over every possible outcome in her head a thousand times while everyone else was 'waiting.' She chewed on her lip, looking foiled. Deeply disappointed.

"You haven't yet heard what's on offer," Rowan stated, trying to pique their interest. "It's really rather valuable."

There was humour in the High Fae's eyes. They wanted to play but didn't think the stakes would end up being worth it. "If we win?" Finvarra repeated, waiting slyly. "If we win, I can hardly think of anything worth what you're bargaining for. The price would be steep."

"If you win then I stay here, royal consort to your future child." She pointed to Una, the High Queen, to the prominent and remarkable swelling under her robe, to the future ruler of Tara who was still only a twinkle and beating heart. "If I win, the Fae join the war efforts."

She could not bare a look back at Joel. Not now. She needed every ounce of her bravery. The Fae couldn't reproduce easily, but humans could. The royal bloodline would be secured on two sides – a half-Fae prodigy in a time where the birth rate for Fae was at an all time low was priceless. Human consorts for the Fae were something she'd read about. They took lovers to create half-breed offspring and to encourage fertility.

She didn't need to look at Joel to feel the fury rolling off him. She could hear him whispering protests behind her. But it was her destiny so she would play with if she wanted. Joel knew better than to be the sort of man who tried to dictate her actions. It's why their friendship had lasted as long as it had. Upset as he might be right now, he would never make her decisions for her, even if he might argue with her – loudly – when he disagreed. He wouldn't want her bound to a loveless marriage, as if it were a trifle and she was just a bargaining chip. 

She would never be able to marry. She'd be the concubine to a fairy. Mistress to an elven royal. Love would have no room in her life if she made this choice. But if it could mean she would one day hold the title of Queen of Aary, then Rowan had no choice. The cost was worth it. She thought of Joel, of Laina, of who she, Rowan, was and who she was meant to become. Romance was a privilege she couldn't afford, and something just not in the cards for her. She wasn't destined for a life of love.

She knew who she loved, who she would always love, and she knew he would never love her in return. 

So her decision was easy. 

She loved her country, her legacy, her people, more than she cared for her freedom. They held her heart above all else.

She shot a glance over her shoulder at her friends' panicked expressions just once. Shrugged as if to say, I'm sorry but I didn't see any other way.

Finvarra and Oona exchanged a look. She could already tell she had caught them in her net. It was too valuable an offer.

"It's a deal," said Finvarra, her smile malicious. "But who shall we choose to fight you? Perhaps the Klagan?" She asked, sweetly.

Rowan was to fight a monster then, not a warrior. A creature from the Fae dark. Fair enough. Made sense. She didn't love her chances, but Klagan's were stupid and slow at least. Spun from nightmares, like a giant crustacean had mated with a rhino. If rumour was true, they fought like they had blinders on. She could certainly exploit that.

"Or Demetrius," Finvarra peered at a warrior who towered over the rest, like a giant with Sabre-tooth claws.

Maybe she would get clobbered. Crap. Or maybe they were also slow and stupid, but they seemed like their eyes were as sharp as the axe on their belt. Great.

And then Finvarra smiled a tight little smile as her eyes settled on a different option.

"Nythander will be the Fae's chosen warrior," she announced, smirking as if the fight had already been won, the spoils already counted.

Finvarra's Captain of the Guard. Damn. The only person who she had connected with here at all and now she was going to have to spank them. No Fae friends for me, Rowan thought. Nythander had been helpful. She liked them. Too bad it had come to this. She didn't relish the idea of taking out her only friend.

Nythander's expression at the announcement -- stormy, pissed, but resigned. And not because they thought they were going to lose, Rowan decided. Nythander wasn't aware of that yet. It seemed more like there was a distaste on their face, like they didn't particularly relish the idea of trying to whoop her ass.

Good. Rowan could use that. That and the knowledge that Nythander believed in their cause. They'd said as much by the outpost. But with the title of Captain of the Guard of the head clan of the Fae, Rowan knew she shouldn't underestimate her opponent. Nythander would be spectacular. Extra strong, faster than humans, stronger than appearance would indicate, with the magical fast healing abilities of the Fae to boot, an unflagging energy.

Fucking formidable.

But Nythander wasn't going to win. Not against Rowan. Not when she wanted this so badly. Rowan just wouldn't let that happen. Everything, EVERYTHING, depended on her winning.

"No magic," said Finvarra, "other than your natural kinetic abilities, of course."

She'd figured it would come to this. Hand-to-hand. Or sword to sword.

"Don't do this," Sky said, voice wavering. "Deals get your family members killed. This is rash."

"Please Row," begged Joel.

Rowan gripped the dragon pommels of her twin Karkuri blades, pulling them out, the metal flashing in the sunlight of the glade. She sauntered into the middle of the sandy meeting ground.

"What are we waiting for?" she goaded.

Nythander came reluctantly up to meet her, drawing their longsword.

"Wonderful," crowed Finvarra, and the Fae cheered in eager anticipation. "Of course, we need you to live in order to be consort, and we rather like Nythander, our head of the gaurd, but ..." 

"Yes?" asked Rowan, impatient now.

"For Nythander to win," Finvarra announced, "the heir to the Aary throne must concede and admit defeat, but" they paused for dramatic effect, looking around at the audience and drumming up tension, "for the heir to win, she must prove her resolve. It will be to Nythander's death or to the heir's surrender!"

The crowd cheered, the potential of blood, the certainty in their warrior, bolstering the Fae's enthusiasm.

The Fae believed it would impossible for a human to beat their chosen warrior, that much was clear.

Rowan's stomach dropped. This was one curved arrow shot she had not seen coming. She did not want to kill Nythander. Not at all. 

But she needed to win.

"Do we have a deal?," asked Finvarra, noting the first sign of hesitation in the resolute human warrior in front of them. "Oh, I should mention that cheating ... magic use by yourself or your friends of any kind, will not be tolerated. Immediate surrender and death will be the outcome if you try to swindle the Fae." Their smile was dripping with saccharine.

Rowan's eyes met those of Nythander's, the handsome scared face, the calm demeanor. She tried to convey her apology, her regret, her pain.

"Yes," Rowan said. "We have a deal."

"So," Finvarra, the High Leader announced, "Let the duel begin!"

***

Hi there! I've been gone for a while, busy focusing on other projects. BUT I finally have time to recommit to WYRD again!!! I can't wait. So here is a new chapter to thank all the readers who have helped me hit 20,000 reads.  You are amazing. THANK YOU for all your votes and your reads and your comments.  And thank you for helping me hit this milestone.  Emmy <3