War of Winter (Iron Fey Fanfiction)

Chapter 29 - Grave Mistakes

Crystal awoke to the pounding of rain on her tent. She was covered in cold sweat and her heart was pounding. She'd had a restless night, filled with pain from her wounds, fleeting nightmares, and strange noises that she couldn't place.

It was fairly early in the morning, so she still had time before the healers would come in and rewrap her spider silk gauze. Needing to use the bathroom, she carefully sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through her back and shoulders, and made her way over to the small chamber pot in the darkest corner of the tent, protected by a screen.

After she was finished, she hobbled over to the nightstand where she found a loaf of warm bread, cheese, and sliced melon. Realizing how hungry she was, she stuffed her face with the food and then washed it down with some hard faery wine from beside the bed.

The camp was quiet, and she was itching to stretch her legs, even though her back protested her every move. Pulling on a shirt, boots, and leather jacket, she slowly stepped out into the deluge. She quickly pulled her hood up before she could get soaked.

Why couldn't Mab turn this shit into snow? she thought. Perhaps, the Queen was resting. But, as she strode past the war tent, the thought was replaced with the truth: the Queen was most definitely not resting.

"We must be cautious with this move, your Majesty," she heard Winterbrey whisper. Crystal tiptoed closer to the entrance and struggled to hear over the pounding of rain.

"Those Summer brats have wounded more than enough of my soldiers and tortured another. They deserve no mercy, and I shall give them none," the Queen replied darkly.

A chill ran up Crystal's spine. She realized she'd been holding her breath and let it out slowly.

"But, your Majesty-" Winterbrey began to protest.

"No, General," Mab's voice was final. "That the end of this discussion."

**********

There would be another battle tomorrow, Crystal learned that afternoon. She sat around the campfire with Thistle, who was sitting way too close to her so that their knees pressed together, and Sage, who was currently briefing Thistle on the new strategy to "shred those Summer whelps to the bone", as Mab put it.

Crystal was only half listening. Apparently, they were going to send half their army to the field, while the other half came from the forest and lured the Summer soldiers to the trap. The trap being several large mouse traps lined all along the forest floor. Then, reaper crows would swoop in and begin their feast.

Quite impressively gruesome, Crystal had to admit. She would be stationed in the forest, since her wounds were not fully recovered yet. "Summer will use their Weapon on us again, so we'll need to be ready for that," Sage was saying. He picked at a chicken bone, peeling off the remaining fat.

"How will we know where to step or how to move when they launch their Weapon?" Thistle asked, scooting discreetly ever so closer to Crystal. She bristled and stood, taking up a stick and a piece of long, stiff meat.

"The Weapon you speak of is actually more like several small weapons that have a large result," Crystal explained while she held the meat on the stick over their small campfire. She ignored Thistle's hurt look.

"Somehow they've managed to combine a fire poppy inside some sort of shell that, when pressure is applied, they explode." Crystal pulled the meat away from the fire, gently blowing on it. She stood standing and met Sage's gaze, purposely ignoring Thistle.

"And, how might we deal with these...explosions?" Sage asked, his face showing he was trying to come up with an answer as well.

"Well, they are placed carefully on the edge of arrows or thrown," Crystal started. "If we run in a zig zag formation, it might first confuse the opponent, then help us to dodge them."

"But it is not certain," Thistle said, taking a swig of faery wine - the hard kind - and almost spitting the words at her. His eyes bored into hers as he glared at her.

Crystal met his gaze and felt a smirk pulling at her lips. "No, it is not," she replied.

************

Crystal sighed with frustration as she crouched with Ash behind a bush in the forest with nearly 500 other sharpshooters. "I can't feel my fucking foot," she grumbled, adjusting her position. They'd been crouched there, waiting, for nearly an hour.

"Then eliminate your fucking foot," Ash murmured beside her, a smile ghosting his lips.

Crystal stared open mouthed at him. "If you weren't royalty, I'd hit you," she whispered. She wished she could stand up as well; her knees and hips were starting to cramp. One of the healers had given her a small lamp flower to relieve the pain.

Unfortunately, it might not do any good if she were wounded further or killed.

"Where are they?" Crystal grumbled, painting frost on the leaf in her face. "They should have been here by now!" She would not let worry seep into her bones. She would not think about Rowan.

"Be patient, they will come," Ash said, shifting his own position. Perhaps his foot was falling asleep, too.

Crystal said no more as she continued to paint frost onto the bush. Suddenly, shouts and a couple explosions pulled her back to reality. "Finally!" she said, delight racing through her as her instinct kicked in, adrenaline pumping through her veins as Summer soldiers, dressed in dark green fighting leathers, raced through the trees, chased by Winter soldiers in silver.

Several were already wounded. A couple hopped desperately on one leg before being cut down by Winter. Crystal felt herself grin as the first soldier leading the pack stepped on the trap. Realizing his mistake he stumbled and tried to turn, but this movement caused a domino effect.

Screams filled the air as hundreds of small mouse traps snapped into action, trapping several soldiers' feet, hands, wrists, noses, necks, and legs. Many fell to the ground and were quickly devoured by the snapping traps.

Flowery bushes were slowly sprouting up everywhere. The soldiers with longbows and crossbows began firing, their aim terrible, but they still hit a few Winter sharpshooters. The Winter soldiers, along with Ash began firing, creating one big, mouse slaughter.

More Summer soldiers were racing toward their comrades, having realized the strategy, firing the whole time. Apparently, they were talented sharpshooters as well. Winter soldiers began falling with arrows through their throats.

Crystal rose from her hiding position and flung ice daggers in the Summer sharpshooters' direction, hitting home nearing every time, trying to aim for the pits in their armor.

Suddenly Crystal spotted Rowan in the fray, battling with a Summer general who was wielding an axe dangerously well. She saw the prince laboring, sweat dripping down his brow and blood leaking from a cut on his cheek. She supposed she should go lend him aid.

Carefully, Crystal maneuvered out from behind the bush, dancing across the forest floor, trying not to step on any writhing Summer fey. She heard Ash much too late. He yelled for her to stop, the urgency in his voice not registering with her fast enough.

She looked up in time to see a familiar Summer soldier, golden hair glinting in the dim light, throw a small explosive in her direction. Her legs locked up and her heart skipped a beat.

Because his aim was terrible and the Weapon exploded right beside the general with the axe and Rowan.