When Magic Dares (Darkly Fae Book 2) Read Online Free

should have been keeping up.
    “What is going on?” the princess demanded.
    Tearloch directed his words Cathair. “We are under attack.”
    The prince nodded, reached beneath the seat he shared with Flann and pulled out a battle sword. There were other weapons secreted about the cabin, Tearloch knew. The one he sought was hidden beneath the princess’s seat.
    He dropped to his knees and retrieved the bow and quiver as quickly as possible.
    The prince could defend the passengers. Tearloch needed the strategic advantage of the roof.
    He stood unsteadily, bracing himself with a broad stance as he slipped the quiver strap over his head and shoulder. Then he flung open the door, reached up onto the roof, and pulled himself out of the carriage.
    From this high perch Tearloch saw there were more riders than he originally thought. A full dozen at least.
    At the front of the carriage, Liam grappled with one of the assailants, trying to keep control of the reins in one hand while fending off the sword-wielding assailant with the other.
    Several wounds leaked purple blood where the blade had sliced through Liam’s clothes and flesh.
    The attacker had not noticed Tearloch, who used the element of surprise to his advantage. Pulling himself forward by the bars of the luggage rack, he maneuvered into position behind the black-swathed fae. Tearloch pushed up to his knees, then dove at the attacker, grabbing him around the neck. With one violent twist, he flung the man off the side of the carriage.
    Tearloch didn’t turn to see if he bounced when he hit the ground.
    “What the Everdark is going on?” he demanded as he dropped into the seat next to Liam.
    “Came out of nowhere at the last curve,” Liam explained as he struggled against the reins, trying to get the horses back under control. “That one you tossed swung down from a tree.”
    Lying in wait. Tearloch could figure out what that meant later.
    “Where are our forces?” he asked.
    Liam scowled. “Disappeared some time before.”
    “A folaigh ?”
    It had to be. Only the powerful shielding magic of a folaigh could make an entire army vanish. None among the Moraine had enough power to conjure one. These were formidable foes.
    “The curve at scath carraig is coming up,” Liam said, his voice tight. “’Twill be near impossible at this speed.”
    Tearloch understood. He needed to act fast.
    He turned in the seat, knees on the bench and boots braced against the front rail. Pressing his hips against the edge of the carriage roof, he held himself upright. As high as possible. The better the angle, the better the shot.
    Bow secured in his left hand, he reached over his shoulder and drew out an arrow.
    He preferred the sword. Preferred the solid weight in his hands, the ability to use strength and leverage over finesse and geometry. But he practiced on the archery fields often enough. He was still the best shot in the clan.
    In one fluid movement, he positioned the arrow, drew back the bowstring, and aimed. Breathed out. Released.
    The arrow hit the first rider square in the chest.
    Instead of falling to the ground, the fae vanished into thin air. Further proof of a folaigh . Again and again, he drew, aimed, and fired. Again and again, his arrows found their marks. When the last of the riders fell, he spun back in the seat.
    “Clear,” he shouted. “Slow the horses.”
    Liam grunted, pulled in the reins with all his might, but the beasts paid no mind. They were wild with fright from the chase.
    “The scath carraig is coming,” Liam bit out. “They will not stop in time.”
    There was no time to consider options. Without hesitation, Tearloch launched himself forward, out of the bench and onto the tongue that ran between the rear horses. A hand on either horse, he pushed forward, determined to get the lead horse in hand.
    He heard Liam shout, “Brace yourselves!”
    With one massive effort, Tearloch leapt from the tongue onto the lead horse’s back.
    He couldn’t spare