A Soul Like Glass (Kingdom of Betrayal #4)

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

W e sink to the floor, where it takes a mere press of my medallion for me to create a soft rug and cushions for us to lie on, tangled in each other’s arms.

His kiss is as deep as mine. I taste his tears on my tongue, and I want nothing more than to forget what awaits us.

My body has heated at his touch, but when I pull back to catch my breath, I can’t ignore the dark circles beneath his eyes. “When did you last sleep?”

“Uh…” His brow furrows for a long moment.

“Too long ago,” I murmur, my upper arm slipping around his side, my hand stroking his back. It takes everything within me to deny the need that was growing within my body, but my concern for his wellbeing is more powerful right now. “You need to rest.”

The corners of his mouth hitch upward. “I’d rather do other things.”

I answer him with a smile. “So would I, but you told Rachel you’ll leave at dawn. You need to sleep first.”

His eyes are already closing. “Sleep first,” he mumbles. “Other things second…”

I continue stroking his back, my fingers finding all the knotted muscles, easing them as best I can.

Within minutes, his breathing is deep.

He falls asleep so quickly that it speaks to his exhaustion.

I stay with him for an hour, allowing my own heart to calm, folding away these peaceful moments within my memory.

Finally, I rise from the rug and tiptoe to the solid wall where a door should be.

Pressing my hand to the rock, I consider what sort of staircase I should make to reach the bottom of the tower. Before I’ve formed a clear thought, the rock melts away from my hand, vanishing and forming an opening.

A corridor already exists, along with a room opposite this one.

Both are lit with golden orbs that float near the ceiling. The floor is inlaid with sparkling jewels that catch the moonlight from a window at the end of the corridor. And at the other end of the corridor is a staircase that glows sapphire blue.

Huh.

It only takes ten steps down before I reach the bottom of the stairs, which let out into a homely-looking cooking area.

A glance through the window on the left tells me I’m at the bottom of the tower, but… I’m certain I was much higher up in the tower only moments ago.

I’m a little surprised that I constructed so much, but then… I’m not.

I wanted a home, and that is what I made.

The scene within the kitchen is peaceful.

A fireplace glows on the other side of the room.

Beside it is a large rug on which Cailey sits cross-legged while Galeia is snuggled against her side.

Mother Solas sits at the far end of the large table near the fire, a bowl of food in front of her. She’s slowly chewing while Dusana sits on the long side of the table, one foot on her chair, her knee bent. The bowl in front of her is empty, other than a few smears of food. A pile of wildflowers rests on the table beside the empty bowl.

None of them startles or seems surprised when I appear.

I try to find my voice. “Uh…?”

“We saved some for you and the Vandawolf,” Mother Solas says, pushing two bowls toward me across the table. “It’s rabbit stew. Galeia caught the rabbit.”

The little girl tilts her head back to give me a grin around the bone she’s gnawing.

“She left some of the rabbit for us.” Dusana rolls her eyes, briefly glancing up from the wreath of wildflowers she’s constructing. I’m not sure if it’s intended for Galeia, Cailey, or herself, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.

I pull up a chair and can’t deny how hungry I am.

Within minutes, I’ve consumed the stew, and I lean back in my chair.

Across the table, Dusana holds up her wreath, assessing it with a scowl before she reaches for more flowers and starts reinforcing the middle. “We know what the humans plan to do, and we know what the Vandawolf plans to do, but what is your plan, Asha Silverspun?”

I arch my eyebrows at her. “Do you really expect me to tell you ?”

Dusana puts down the flowers and huffs at me. “As the old lady pointed out earlier, I’m a dead fae. If you tell me something and later regret it, it won’t be hard to kill me.”

She has a point.

I’m aware that Mother Solas and Cailey are both looking at me while Galeia continues to suck happily on her bone.

“I have an impossible task,” I say.

“We know,” Cailey replies. Despite her appearance, her voice carries the weight of years. “You need to stop the darkness.”

“Ha!” Dusana snorts. “I thought you were going to say you need to free your brother. I was going to tell you nothing is impossible, believe in your dreams, but stopping the darkness? That ’s impossible.”

“For any other supernatural,” Mother Solas says. “But is it really impossible for you, Asha Silverspun?”

When I respond with an uncertain grimace, she gestures to the tower around us.

“I would have said this structure was impossible,” she says, “but here we are enjoying the fireplace while two lightning-powered birds snuggle on the overly large perch you made for them.”

“Perch?”

“You’ll see when you go outside. Two perches, actually. One on either side of the tower. Although I fear you’ve made them large enough for dragons to land on, which they may view as an invitation.”

“That was a mistake,” Dusana says, widening her eyes at me.

I ignore her. “Creating a tower is very different than extinguishing a power that is fueled by the very magic I would use to stop it.”

But Cailey’s forehead has creased. “How do you stop a fire?”

“You pour water on it,” Dusana quickly replies.

“Sure, but how else?”

Dusana’s forehead crinkles. “You can smother it or stomp on it.”

“How else?”

Dusana gives her a stare. “You clearly have something in mind. Say it already.”

Cailey’s eyes are brighter than they’ve been in hours. “You take away the fuel source.”

My forehead creases. “How would that apply to the darkness?”

“It feeds on the magic of the dead,” she says. “The more death there is, the more magic there is, the stronger it grows, and the faster it spreads, creating more death. And so it goes on.”

“Self-sustaining,” I say.

“But what if there were a way to leach the magic from the ground?” she asks.

I give the matter serious consideration. “You mean something to pull the magic away? But then it would simply go somewhere else and fester there instead.”

Mother Solas holds up her hand. “Not if the place it went was capable of containing that magic.”

Like Cailey, she, too, is suddenly animated. “You created a tower in the blink of an eye. You did it for a purpose: a home. You gave it doors and windows and warmth and light and all the things that living beings need to thrive. But what about a place where its entire purpose is to constrain the churning magic that fuels the darkness?”

“Like a prison,” Dusana says with a delighted smirk. “But for magic.”

“A place that can’t be breached,” Cailey says. “Or even found. You can’t risk that someone would open it up.”

“With all the properties needed to counter the dark magic, you siphon from the land and extinguish it,” Mother Solas says.

“As well as any other magic that is festering within it,” Cailey adds. “After all, the darkness is the result of dark magic acting on other kinds of magic: elemental magic from the fae, light magic from dragons and humans, and original magic like Blacksmith magic and my magic, too. Whatever object you create to siphon away the darkness, it would need to attract all of the magics that have been corrupted.”

“And be strong enough to tether them,” Mother Solas adds. “To keep them contained.”

“Forever,” Cailey finishes.

I take a breath and calm my beating heart, thinking it through. All the moving parts: a tether, a prison…

But I find myself circling back to one thing, and it brings dread to my stomach. The same dread I saw in Erik’s eyes.

“The darkness feeds on death,” I whisper. “It generates monsters and has a life of its own. Stopping it won’t be as simple as using a siphoning object and creating a prison. Not if I am to stop it from reviving and happening again. When any magic dies, it would need to be claimed and kept safe.”

Mother Solas reaches for my right hand and gives it a squeeze. “Think on it, Lady Asha. The answer will come to you.”

Across the table, Dusana positions the wreath on her own head. “More importantly, what do you think of my flowers?”

She holds her head high, and I remember how happy she’d looked when she thought Karasi had given her an elegant gown.

“Beautiful,” Cailey says brightly. “Let me get a closer look.”

She pops Galeia onto the rug to rise to her feet and reach Dusana, pursing her lips. “Actually, I think this one needs to be… not there.”

With a cheeky smile, Cailey plucks the central flower from the front of the wreath and darts backward, reaching the other side of the room before Dusana can stop her.

The wreath immediately separates where Cailey broke the circle, and the two sides fall to either side of Dusana’s head.

She scowls.

Cailey pokes out her tongue. “It looks better that way. Wilder . More like you.”

“It does,” I say to Dusana. “Really.”

She huffs before she reaches up to pat the flowers, following their path down her hair.

Across the way, Cailey holds up her prize—a single wild rose—her fingers glowing for a moment before she turns the flower a pure white color. She pushes it into her own hair.

On the rug, Galeia gives a yawn. Her dark hair is matted from the wind and—I grimace—what is probably some blood splatter from hunting.

She needs a bath, but more than that…

I rise from my seat, circle the table, and kneel on the rug.

She immediately crawls into my lap, her green eyes raised to mine.

For a long moment, I can’t look away.

Despite Thaden’s parentage, there is nothing of a human or a Blacksmith in Galeia’s nature. From what Erik told me of the Valkyrie on our flight here, it doesn’t matter what race of man they mate with; they only have daughters, and their daughters are always pure Valkyrie.

But Galeia was given the heart and soul of a wolf, and it’s because of that heart that she’s still alive.

There is such a push and pull of energy within her. A cold indifference to death because of her Valkyrie nature, while her wolfish heart is desperate to connect, to be part of a family, and to be loved.

When I press my left hand to her back, she doesn’t flinch.

I used to fear touching other people when I was in contact with Malak’s tools, and I was right to be afraid. His dark power was cruel and malicious.

But my own power is fully within my control, and it only does what I want it to do.

It’s easy for me to sense the sections of Galeia’s heart and to distinguish the original biological part from the metal pieces. Within all of them is the capacity for hope and compassion and forgiveness and anger and strength, but they all pull against the darkness of the living metal that’s pumping blood around her body and keeping her alive.

Even though her Valkyrie parentage obliterated her Blacksmith nature, the strength of the metal device means she carries an enormous amount of Blacksmith magic within her body. Just as Erik used to carry Blacksmith magic, too.

She is unique. I’m certain there will never be another like her.

She remains calm in my arms as I assess her.

The others are hushed around me.

“Galeia,” I say quietly. “I can give you a voice and a mind that’s all your own. But you will need to make a choice.”

Her bright green eyes remain focused on me.

If I’m not certain she understands me, I will wait until Erik wakes up. I can ask him to communicate with her.

“What do you wish to be, Galeia?” I ask her. “A Valkyrie or wolf?”

Her answer is astonishingly clear.

The moment I say Valkyrie , she bares her teeth with a sharp growl, but at wolf , her snarl fades, and she gives me such a wide grin that the bone falls from her mouth.

She purses her lips. “Wo… l… f.”

I have all the certainty I need.

“Then so you will be,” I say, pressing my left hand to the location of her heart.

Be a wolf.

The color of her eyes changes, amber flecks appearing while the emerald green darkens to the shade of the forest.

The thump-thump of her little heart calms beneath my palm, less frantic. Now stronger, steadier.

I sense the metal within her chest fully merging with the remaining parts of her natural heart, all of the intricate pieces becoming whole. A part of her that belongs to her and that she can control.

Her entire body relaxes, every shred of tension vanishing.

The streams of cold fury I saw before—the tension that spoke of a Valkyrie nature—vanish, and so, too, do the stumps and the single feather on her back.

Her chest rises with a deeply inhaled breath, and her eyes grow wide.

For a moment, I’m afraid that I’ve hurt her, and my heart is in my throat.

Then she releases her breath with a slow whisper, “I am a wolf.”

She closes her eyes, her dark head sinking to my shoulder and her breathing deepening.

I check her heartbeat, making sure she’s okay while she snuggles into me.

Within seconds, she’s asleep.

A sense of peace fills me.

It’s the first peace I’ve felt for days.

The hush continues around me for long minutes while the fire crackles and the scent of wildflowers lingers.

My peace extends…

Until I break it.

“Malak wanted to be a god,” I say. “He wanted to create life and take it at a whim. He wanted to control the light and the dark. The heart within this child is both, and it made me realize…”

I meet Mother Solas’s eyes. Then Cailey’s. Then Dusana’s.

“The darkness began with Blacksmith magic, and it hungers for Blacksmith magic more than any other magic,” I say. “Only an object made from the most powerful Blacksmith magic could tether it. An object of pure darkness.”

I close my eyes for a moment before I continue. “Creating a prison will be an easier task. All I have to do is make a new home, but without any windows or doors, and I need to place it outside the boundaries of the natural world so it can’t be found.”

I try to breathe while none of them speaks.

“Creating the siphoning object will be harder. First, because it must be made from the very same tools that caused the darkness in the first place. And second, because I will have to forge it at the source. Only then can I be sure it will take hold of every shred of darkness. None can remain.”

I am suddenly cold but no less determined.

“But that isn’t all,” I whisper. “To keep the darkness from reviving and to ensure that this never happens again, all magic that dies in the future must be claimed and kept. The darkness must have a living keeper.”

“Lady Asha…” Mother Solas is on her feet, her face pale. “What can we do?”

“Look after Galeia until Erik can return for her.” Tears burn behind my eyes. “I won’t leave without him. I will ask him to come with me as far as he safely can. I won’t waste a second of the time I have left with him. But when I’m gone, he will need people around him who can keep him anchored.”

I force myself to my feet, carrying Galeia to Mother Solas’s waiting arms. “I know you don’t have long. Please tell Rachel what has happened. Ask her to find a place for Erik.” I swallow against the constriction in my throat. “Galeia will take up much of his time, but once she’s grown, he will need a purpose.”

That’s all I can manage before I slip from the room.