A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tamlin materialized by Callisto's side, green eyes scanning her worriedly as his strong hands gripped her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

Callisto's heart thawed at the concern etched on his face, but worry for the figures she'd glimpsed in the distance soon took its place.

"I'm fine," she assured him, turning to point towards the distant scene. "But they need help."

Tamlin followed her gaze, spotting Summer and Spring faeries locked in a desperate struggle with an unexpected foe – Autumn soldiers. A furrow creased his brow. He rarely meddled in other courts' affairs, and if these Spring faeries weren't within Spring borders, they were likely refugees who'd fled after Feyre. Yet, a silent plea flickered in Callisto's eyes, tugging at the warrior heart beneath his noble facade. He knew that if not for the barrier, she'd already be racing towards the fray.

"Stay here," he murmured.

Callisto rolled her eyes as he strode off into the distance. It's not like I can go anywhere, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue.

She was just annoyed. Annoyed at how easy it was for him to stride across the green fields, his strong shoulders and back facing her. Annoyed that she was practically helpless. Mostly, she was annoyed that she couldn't go with him.

She paced by the barrier like a caged animal—a tigress snarling at the injustice unfolding before her.

Even from the distance, she could see relief on the faces of the Spring faeries when they recognized who had arrived.

Meanwhile, the Autumn soldiers, with their distinct red hair and the insignia of their court on their uniforms, backed off. They eyed Tamlin warily, and Callisto felt pride rush in her. She stopped pacing for a moment, watching the High Fae and Lesser Faeries shrink away from the High Lord of Spring. Even when he wasn't a full strength, Tamlin commanded fear and respect for the trained warrior that he was.

A conversation seemed to broker between Tamlin and the leader of the Autumn unit, but Callisto couldn't make out the exchange.

She did, however, notice when the Autumn soldiers' demeanor changed. Their expressions hardened, and they began to move in formation. As a trained warrior who had watched Illyrian units weave through battle in synchronization, she knew what was about to happen.

The Autumn soldiers attacked, and for a moment, Callisto could only watch in surprise.

Flames erupted, but Tamlin moved out of the way, making sure to herd the lesser faeries behind him to safety.

She didn't understand why soldiers from another court were attacking a High Lord. Fury swept through her, and her wings exploded from her back. If those soldiers were working under the orders of the High Lord of Autumn, they knew this was an act of war between courts.

And all she could do was stand on the sidelines.

"Shift, Tamlin," she murmured, willing him to hear her. "Shift."

But the High Lord of Spring was more concerned with the lesser faeries. He was making sure they were all safe from the fire, barely even registering the soldiers that were moving behind him. They were getting ready to strike again.

Some instinct, deeply ingrained inside Callisto, made her step forward as three of the soldiers launched themselves at Tamlin.

She was surprised when she didn't meet any resistance.

Callisto looked behind her, her eyebrows furrowed.

She reached out a hand...only to meet open air.

What in the Caludron's name—