8. Keira
Chapter 8
Keira
I stand on a small balcony where two staircases meet, overlooking a large courtyard. Below, our finest soldiers work in groups with fae teachers, sorted by their elemental abilities.
This training will be an invaluable opportunity—if I can get humans and fae to work together without killing each other.
Aldrin and his people needed little time to recover after my father freed them from their abuse and imprisonment. Bile creeps up my throat, threatening to make me a retching, shaking mess at the very thought of the horrors they endured because of me.
The sounds of metal clanging off metal and heavy boots striking pavers echo throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the stone walls and porticos that encircle it on all sides.
The air is stifled here, except for the odd gust of wind when someone attempts an air wield, and it carries the strong scent of masculine sweat. I wrinkle my nose at it.
The training looks like pure chaos from up here, the groups often merging as the human soldiers stop to grumble to each other or stand there with arms crossed, refusing to engage.
Aldrin catches my eye as he pairs with Liam, an Appleshield guard. A burst of complex emotions ripples through me. My heart skips a beat with elation at having him so near, speeds up with anger at all the lies and half-truths he told me, and aches with longing that is pierced by guilt.
I want to reach out and touch him, but there is a glacier between us.
I watch Aldrin’s exchange with Liam like my life depends on it, soaking up every detail. Their blunted swords strike each other slowly at first, attacking and blocking. Their attacks and parries become faster and faster, the blades flying and their feet moving like a dance.
“Fix your air wield,” Aldrin orders. “Distribute the reinforcing magic evenly across your blade, or your sword will snap.”
Liam’s blue eyes narrow in sheer determination.
“Faster,” Aldrin calls. “Wield air behind your legs and arms to push your body to greater speeds. It will take longer to tire as well.”
Liam’s features set as he concentrates. I have hunted alongside him many times, but I have never seen him move this fast. Aldrin is going incredibly easy on him.
They are a mesmerizing sight to behold. Where Aldrin is all dark features and sharp angles, broad and heavily muscular, Liam is golden-haired with an almost feminine quality to his handsome face and lean build.
Neither wears a shirt, and both glisten with sweat as the midmorning sun bears down on them.
I can’t drag my eyes away from the ripple and roll of the perfectly chiseled muscles of Aldrin’s shoulders and arms, and that ridged abdomen.
The memory plagues me of what it feels like to run my fingers down it, lower and lower, dipping beneath the waistband of his pants. To sink my fingernails into the hard planes of his back while he lies over me, his face just inches from mine as he takes me hard.
The beautiful planes of his face are ethereal compared to the humans around him. That narrow jaw, those high cheekbones, that amber gaze that once simmered with heat whenever it fell on me.
The sudden reminder of the loss of everything we had is enough to make the air whoosh out of my chest, and I can’t seem to drag in another breath to replace it.
A woman sighs beside me. I turn to find my sister Brianna has materialized on silent feet. Or perhaps I was too engrossed by the display before me to notice her.
“Are you sure you’re still angry with Aldrin?” she says in a wistful half-whisper.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I say in a huff.
Betrayal and hurt tumble through me, and it feels like I am freefalling into a black pit of bitterness, one I may never crawl out of again. It was born of the lies I thought Aldrin had told me, and it has mingled with the pure rage I feel toward my father and grandmother.
My emotions have become a confused, entangled mess. A snarling beast that lashes out in every direction.
Anger is such a simple word to sum it all up. I don’t know if I am entitled to it after everything, but it is there, deep within my heart.
Aldrin should have told me he had fought a battle with my father before he took me to his bed. I deserved to know of this prophecy from the beginning. It dictates my fate as much as his. The trust is wounded between us, because I now have to wonder what else he isn’t telling me.
But half of my fury is directed at myself. I failed Aldrin when he needed me, and whenever I acknowledge that simple truth, I cannot look him in the eye.
Aldrin pauses in his attack on Liam to give the Appleshield guard more instructions. His gaze flicks up at me, and his broad eyebrows crash down in a severe frown before he disregards me completely. It is like a slap in the face.
Brianna nudges me in the ribs. “Stop scowling at him.”
“Me?” I turn on her. “He’s that one who’s scowling!”
“Such a waste,” she murmurs. “He traveled across realms because you called him and has volunteered to fight a battle that isn’t his, just to protect you. No strings attached. It’s very romantic.”
I give her a sidelong look. At sixteen, she is too young to be talking of romance. “Brianna, this isn’t one of your novels. It’s more complicated than all that.”
“Is it?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is there a certain prince you are daydreaming about? Are you hoping he will do some grand act to declare his secret love for you?”
A red flush creeps across her cheeks, and she waves the mention of Prince Niall away. “This isn’t about me, Keira.”
I let out a long breath. “How do I learn to trust him again, Brianna? What other secrets is he hiding?” I run a hand over my face. “Honestly, I don’t deserve him.” A tear falls from my eye, and mortification fills me at such a display in front of our troops.
Brianna places a hand on my arm. “That should be his choice to make. Talk to him, Keira. You owe him that much.”
Cold dread fills me at the idea. I am afraid to see the resentment in his eyes and hear the condemnation that would pour from his lips. I am terrified that all my ugly emotions will rise to the surface and push him away.
“Every time I try to talk to him, our father gets in the middle and drags one of us away,” I mutter.
A pained cry has me whipping my head back to Aldrin, heart racing.
Liam is bent over, clutching his sword arm at the wrist, grimacing in pain. “I think it’s broken,” he chokes out.
Aldrin runs a hand through his hair as he takes a step closer. “This is why you need to keep a protective pocket of air around your arm with these maneuvers. You can’t put too much force on one spot.” He holds out a hand to Liam. “Here, let me heal the bone for you.”
Aiden cuts between both men, blocking his brother from Aldrin. “I think you have done enough, fae . How do we know you didn’t purposely hurt him?”
“Have you never been injured while training before? Do accidents not happen in this realm?” Aldrin towers over both men, glowering at Aiden, who doesn’t back down.
I rush down the staircase to the shaded corner of the portico, where Klara is teaching healing techniques to the field medics.
I break into their little circle. “There has been an injury.”
Klara’s lilac eyes fly up to me. “Please don’t tell me Drake has burned someone again.”
I blink, but there is no time to ask questions. “A human training with Aldrin has broken an arm. Maybe you could teach a medic to heal it?” It is the only way Aiden will allow a fae to heal his brother—if he believes a human is overseeing it.
Klara pushes past me and stalks straight for Aldrin, her team of medics eagerly trailing after her. At least some of my people are taking this seriously.
“Aldrin, I told you to be careful with them,” Klara growls. “You know how fragile humans are.”
I cringe. Aldrin looks abashed and the guards around them bristle at the insult. The beginnings of a headache pulse at my temples.
“I’m sorry, ah…Liam, was it?” Aldrin says. “Maybe we can try again later?”
Liam throws Aldrin a weak smile that turns into a cringe. “Yeah. Like you said. Injuries happen all the time in training.”
The guards around Aldrin grumble. I feel the weight of his gaze on my back, but I’m too scared of what I will find on his face if I turn to him. I focus instead on saying calming words to Aiden while Klara’s team heals his brother.
The tension in this courtyard is so thick I could slice it with a knife.
I wander through the people, ready to put out any fires as they begin. Sweat patches mark the clothes of guards who haven’t trained yet. Nervous anticipation is clear in the hard set of their jaws and the tightness of their shoulders.
I join a handful of people watching a guard take on an obstacle course Silvan has designed.
Logs are set up as hurdles at different heights. Rows of square hay bales are arranged as platforms. Walls of thick branches and vines are moving obstructions. A pitcher of wine hanging in the air at an impossible height is the prize at the end.
Gwyneth races through the course, her black braids pulled back into a thong, spraying out behind her. The Captain of the Guard splashes icy slush across the courtyard’s pavers, sliding through it on her knees to move under some hurdles and using a burst of air to propel her over others.
She moves with a speed I have never witnessed from her before. Caitlin would be proud to see her life partner. But as Gwyneth races toward the row of hay bales beneath the prize, the guards around me grumble with agitation.
The Captain of the Guard leaps on the first bale, then the second, her feet barely touching them before moving to the next. As her legs fly through the air, the next bale in the path slides a few feet from its original position.
She uses a puff of air to correct her momentum, and while her feet land on the bale, her body is pushed off course. The next hay bale sides too far in the opposite direction and Gwyneth stumbles to the ground, her feet tripping over each other until she finally catches herself.
The guards watching bite off derogatory curses toward the fae beneath their breath. Before I have a chance to lose my temper at the ungrateful fools, Gwyneth turns on Silvan.
“This is impossible!” She stalks toward him as he watches her with arms crossed. “You’re playing games with us!”
“Have you not learned how to move faster today?” Silvan bites out. “To use wields to help you slide across hard surfaces or enhance the height of your jump?”
Gwyneth points a finger at him. “You are sabotaging us!”
“You need to learn to anticipate. To tug the objects back out of my grasp. An enemy won’t play fair.” Silvan turns his back on her and picks up a sand timer. “Start again,” he growls.
Gwyneth eyes the timer, then Silvan.
“You are losing time,” he mocks.
I raise an eyebrow at him. Silvan simply cocks his head to one side as he considers me. There is not a hint of guilt on his face. We stand there in silence while he tracks Gwyneth’s progress as she starts the course.
Instead of watching her leap and slide through the hurdles, I examine Silvan.
His expression is stone cold, but as Gwyneth progresses, cursing and grunting, a small smirk grows on his lips. His fingers twitch a few times and the sound of shifting hay follows, then the rattle and crash of the captain hitting the pavers.
I grab Silvan’s arm and pull him to the side. He looks at me, unblinking, and not the least bit sorry.
I sigh. “You are setting them up to fail, aren’t you? Making them look like fools.” I get it. I absolutely do. They locked him up, tortured him, and now he is offering them help without asking for anything in return, and they don’t even offer him basic respect.
“Perhaps a little. It is far too easy. Like teasing a child.”
I run a hand across my eyes. “Silvan, I need them trained. I understand you are angry. Your resentment is justified. Since you have come here, you have only been mistreated by my people, but I am trying to change that. I need you. I need all of you, and I am trying to fight for you.”
“Are you?” Silvan’s dark eyes bore into mine. “I haven’t seen any of your family being trained by fae. How do you think it looks to your people when you won’t even speak to Aldrin? No. They won’t accept us until you do.”
I draw in a ragged breath, then glance over at Aldrin. Where do I even begin? He is talking intently with Aiden, trying so hard to get the man on side. The sight sets a deep ache within my heart.
How could I deserve a man like that?
“I will try if you do.” My words come out choked, and Silvan grumbles his agreement.
I pull him back toward the obstacle course and speak loud enough for the guards to hear. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for choosing to remain in this realm to protect my freedom. This is not your war, but you have decided to fight it anyway. To help empower us, when you owe us nothing.” I turn to the watching guards. “I guarantee that Silvan’s training will save many of your lives on a battlefield.”
So many of those hostile expressions slip. I throw myself into a hug with Silvan to prove that this fae isn’t as alien and scary as they seem to think.
He stiffens and tries to pull away, but I hold tight until he pats me awkwardly on the back.
“Go easier on them,” I whisper. “It’s not their fault that they haven’t had the training you’ve had. I need them, too. If you want to be angry with someone for your treatment here, blame my father. Blame me. We can take it.”
Silvan turns back to his students and launches into a lecture on how to use the methods he has plagued them with on an enemy. He sets them up in teams against each other, one to sabotage and the other to resist while they complete the course.
We might actually pull this off.
If we can access the inhibited magic within each of us, it could save us. Not just in this war. Our way of life has been under threat for generations because our magic is fading. Without it, this kingdom could be thrust back into the dark ages, with famines as our farming with magic fails, and great plagues when we can no longer heal.
This has been our justification for the horrendous crime our pilgrims commit against the fae, but they will no longer be necessary if we have the untapped power we need already inside ourselves.
My mood slips despite the flicker of hope. These soldiers are going to war for my freedom. Because I couldn’t sacrifice myself to Finan. How many families are going to lose a parent, a child or a sibling so I can live my life as I choose?
A deep sorrow fills me, expanding within my chest until I think I will explode from the grief. The only thing that allows me to put one foot in front of the other without crumbling is the possibility that Prince Niall is right, and Finan will balk the moment he is presented with an opposing army.
“No. No. NO! I told you to move the branches, not the roots,” Drake bellows over the crowd. “Do you even know one end of a tree from another?”
I spin on my heel and rush over to him. Both Drake and an archer from our army’s reserve lean over a large potted tree the former dragged in from one of the orchards for his demonstration.
“I’ve worked my entire gods-damned life in an orchard, so yeah, I know a thing or two about trees!” the archer snaps back, tossing her braid over her shoulder.
“Then why is it that when I tell you to move the branches, you end up growing the roots?” Drake hisses.
“Because we didn’t know this magic was possible a day ago.” The archer throws out an arm to indicate the onlookers behind her. Their teeth are gritted, their eyes narrowed.
A man strides up to Drake with his fists balled. “How can you expect us to learn anything like this? You don’t give proper instruction! And how is this going to help us in a battle, anyway?”
My stomach bottoms out as a huge smile fills Drake’s face. I frantically try to push through a crowd that won’t give. I know that look. He is about to do something reckless.
A root flies out of the pot, rapidly growing in length and girth, until it reaches the man and strikes him across the face with an audible slap. In the same moment, the tree’s branches bend and extend until the original student is encased in a woody cage.
The entire crowd turns deadly silent in their shock, as though they hold a collective breath. In a heartbeat, they are going to be screaming that this is a fae attack.
I break into the middle of the circle right before the soldiers recover their stunned wits. “Thank you for the demonstration, Drake,” I boom, turning other heads. I point at the thrashing archer.“You can let this woman go now.”
Drake shrugs and drops the magic.
I see straight through the bravado. There is a tightness to his lips and deep shadows around his eyes that haven’t disappeared despite his better accommodation.
To these soldiers, Drake is as alien as a fae comes, with skin so bronze it is almost red, and a tattoo of an immense tree across his face in silvery lines—roots reaching across his chin, the trunk a thin line up his lips and nose, and the canopy expanding over his forehead and under his eyes.
I see the face of a friend. A man with endless kindness.
I turn to the crowd he has drawn. “I have fought alongside these fae and witnessed them in battle. They use roots to trip or bind an enemy, and branches to skewer them. Do not underestimate this power. Imagine the implications of being able to wield earth magic in a battle that takes place in a forest or a field.”
I give Drake a few private words of thanks before I move on. He seems to be the only one who isn’t harboring a personal grudge against me.
When I ask him about it, he shrugs again. “It’s not like you knew what they were doing.”
The day drags on, the clock tower tolling the hour. It feels like we have been at this for an eternity.
I am dragged from one dispute to another, constantly intervening before one group can murder the other. The strain of all that conflict sits in the tightness of my shoulders and pain runs down my spine.
I gravitate toward Aldrin, pulled in by a riptide.
He is still teaching the basics of swordcraft enhanced with air wields. Aiden faces him within the circle of crowding bodies, his long blond hair pulled back by a leather tie. The guard listens intently as Aldrin gives him a series of instructions, a hand on his shoulder. He pulls back to demonstrate a few times.
Both men take up defensive positions, coming together in a clash of swords that send sparks flying. Aiden grits his teeth but holds his own, blade sliding away and swinging down low to catch Aldrin’s unprotected thighs.
A cocky smirk forms on Aldrin’s lips as he throws up an air shield to block it. My heart tumbles at the roguish expression and the spark in his amber eyes as he crowds the other man.
It hits me all at once. I haven’t seen Aldrin smile since he arrived in my world.
Aiden doesn’t lose a beat, continuing his attack and trying to land blow after blow, which Aldrin blocks effortlessly. A frown sets over Aiden’s delicate features, his pale blue eyes becoming stormy and the force in each of his blows escalating.
There is a change in the mood, and the crowd begins to murmur. Aiden’s speed increases until he becomes near a blur. Aldrin’s movements pick up pace to match him.
“You’re holding back on me,” Aiden pants.
“Of course I am,” Aldrin replies.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Aldrin laughs, the sound deep and throaty. It sends tingles down my spine. The fight shifts as he goes on the attack, his sword slicing through the air at a velocity I struggle to follow. Aiden loses ground rapidly. To the guard’s credit, he stops each blow with his blade or air shield.
They are almost at the edge of the crowd when Aldrin grips his sword in two hands and makes a mighty above-shoulder swing, bringing his sword down on Aiden. The guard blocks the blow, but goes down on one knee, holding Aldrin’s position above him as more sparks fly off the blades. The grinding of metal makes a horrible screech.
Aiden throws off Aldrin’s attack, forcing him to stumble backward, then rolls out of the maneuver. As the student comes to his feet behind the master, the subtlest wield pulls out the thin layer of air between the ground and Aiden’s boots.
Aldrin used my dirty trick. The realization makes my heart leap.
Aiden crashes to the pavers. Aldrin steps over him, placing a boot on his chest and pointing the blunt sword at his heart, both hands wrapped around the pommel in a simulation of a killing blow.
He swiftly sheathes the sword and holds out his hand to the guard.
Aiden stares up at Aldrin, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. He slowly takes Aldrin’s hand and is pulled to his feet. The moment isn’t lost on me.
“I could have had you if it wasn’t for that wield,” Aiden mutters.
“Exactly. That’s why I am teaching you this,” Aldrin replies. “A small wield can turn the tide of a fight.”
Bodies move around me, and a broad-shouldered man with a ruddy face pushes through into the fighting circle.
“That was cheating!” He points a thick finger at Aldrin.
Aldrin turns narrowed eyes on the man. The humans flanking him cower away from that simmering gaze. I can’t help the prideful smile that grows on my lips at their fear.
Aldrin cocks an eyebrow. “Did we set any rules?”
“You haven’t shown us that trick yet! It wasn’t a fair fight!” the man insists, and others call out in agreement.
“There are no fair fights in war,” Aldrin snaps back.
“This clearly isn’t working,” another voice calls out. “None of our people can beat you.”
“That’s not the purpose of this session.” Aldrin whips around to the man who spoke, but another guard elbows the first in the stomach and chastises him.
A woman pushes forward, as tall and broad as most of the men. “Why are we wasting our time learning your parlor tricks when we have a war to prepare for? Maybe that is what the fae want.” She turns around, trying to gain the support of the other guards. “The Protector Guard distracted while more fae creep into our realm and steal our women!”
“Don’t worry, Glenys, you’re safe. No fae men are coming here to steal you ,” someone snickers, and others laugh.
The color drains from Aldrin’s face. It breaks my heart to see him treated like this. It also stokes my rage.
I shove people out of my way to get through the mass. I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill them all. I don’t care that they are my house’s personal guard. Because no one, no one , speaks to my sweet man like that. I will tolerate no degradation toward him.
“They wouldn’t be bloody training us if they were planning to attack, now would they?” Liam calls out, and I want to hug him.
A ripple of animosity travels through the crowd as the guards argue among themselves, splitting down the middle as half take Aldrin’s side.
I step out of the packed bodies and into the clearing next to Aldrin, turning on the guards sneering at him.
A flash of cold fury runs through me. Embers flicker at the tips of my fingers. A breeze wraps around me, tossing my hair and swishing the hem of my split skirts.
“ENOUGH!” I bellow, positioning my body in front of Aldrin and facing off against the others. A ring of low flames bursts out around me in a wide, protective circle that has only the two of us in it, setting a clear divide from the crowd. “You will speak to Aldrin with respect, or you will be tossed out of the Protector Guard. Since when do we blindly discriminate? When do we not appreciate help from an ally? Especially one who has no stakes in this war.”
A hush falls over my people as their eyes flicker from me to the flames and back. I am practically pressed against Aldrin’s chest, and as I take a small step forward, he peers into my face with a self-satisfied smile on his lips. Those amber eyes glitter as they drink up my rage.
He is enjoying my display of fierce protectiveness.
Aldrin holds up a hand, circling a single finger, and a sudden, localized spring rain douses my fire. I turn to him, open-mouthed, as he drags the moisture right out of the air. He moves around me with a lightness in his step.
“If you want to see how these parlor tricks will aid you in battle, then maybe we fae should do a little demonstration. Anyone here care to do a duel with me, where I don’t hold back an ounce of magic?” Aldrin turns and points to the woman who accused him of being a distraction. “How about you? No?”
The guards mumble and shuffle, but no one volunteers.
“Silvan?” Aldrin calls out. “Care to spar?”
“Fuck yes.” Silvan cracks his neck on either side, then stalks over. “I have some frustrated energy to get out.” Those beady eyes turn a dark look back on his students.
I clap my hands, wielding air to amplify the sound. “Everyone out of the courtyard. Give them space. There is plenty of room on the balconies and the staircases.”
They shuffle out in a stream of bodies. I move to join them, but Aldrin grabs my shoulders from behind, pulls my back against his chest and rumbles in my ear, “Just to be clear, I definitely have stakes in this war.”
Shivers run through my entire body, and I glance up to catch the simmering heat in his eyes. My lips part, but I am completely lost for words. There is such promise in his statement.
Aldrin gives me a little push and I stumble forward, immediately swept up by the crowd. The courtyard empties out until every staircase and balcony is full of guards. I take my place at the front of the main balcony beside Brianna, who hasn’t moved once since the training began.
She is practically shaking with enthusiasm. “Well, this is terribly exciting.”
“Mmmm,” I say. “Let’s hope no one gets injured.”
Aldrin and Silvan circle each other in the deserted courtyard, eyes narrowed and knuckles white on their swords. They run at each other at a near-impossible speed. The impact of each footfall booms off the pavers.
They leap up and clash in midair, their swords meeting with a deafening crack.
Silvan swings down low, throwing himself down to his knees on a platform of air to take out Aldrin’s ankles in a swipe. Aldrin, who also hovers spans above the ground, forms a base to jump off and backflips to narrowly avoid the blow, landing in a crouch multiple feet away. Silvan allows his platform to dissolve beneath him and lands smoothly on the ground.
“Cute move,” Aldrin calls out as they circle each other again.
Silvan’s eyebrows pinch sharply over his cold glare, but he says nothing.
The two fae collide in a series of attacks and parries, each thundering impact of their swords reverberating through my bones and utterly shaking my nerves.
The amount of force and complete control required for each strike is unnerving. My heart hammers painfully as an irrational fear builds and builds, that one of them might miscalculate and hurt the other.
“Remember to breathe,” Brianna whispers in my ear.
Silvan leaps up a step of solidified air and makes a downward strike at Aldrin, who jumps back and up his own step. The two men spiral up through the air, climbing staircases of their own making that we cannot see, one attack and one step at a time, until they are at the height of the first-level balcony.
I suddenly remember that base jumping isn’t Aldrin’s strength. They are in Silvan’s domain here. I bite my lower lip. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t drag my eyes away.
Silvan makes his next attack and Aldrin drops straight to the ground, landing unscathed in a crouch. The pavers beneath his feet turn to dust and a circle of cracked stone forms around him. When he looks up, there is a devious smirk on his face.
Thick roots burst out of the pot Drake’s tree sits in and the branches expand rapidly, reaching into the air like great tentacles whipping toward Silvan. He doesn’t even attempt to wrestle control of the spring magic from his king. This is Aldrin’s strength.
Instead, Silvan slices the closest root about to snag his ankle—then he disappears completely.
Gasps ring out from the humans encircling the courtyard. A huge, proud smile fills my face.
I squint as I search for the distortion in the air that is Silvan’s form. He moves so quickly, it’s a struggle to keep up with him. Woody appendages fly through the space, their movements controlled by slight flicks of Aldrin’s wrist. He almost looks bored.
Every so often, the tentacles are sliced through and fall to the ground. A root finally encircles itself around a thick void of air, smacking its quarry into a pillar of the ground-level portico. The stone gives out, falling into a pile of rubble, and Silvan’s form becomes visible again.
My stomach twists at the sight of blood trickling from his nose, and I shoot a glare at Aldrin. He didn’t need to hurt one of my favorite people for this demonstration.
The root lifts Silvan up a second time and my heart stutters to a stop with fear, but right before he is smacked to the ground, ice engulfs the tendrils around him. With the impact, the entire thing shatters.
I forgot that he is half Winter Court fae by birth.
Silvan stands, shaking his head to get his wits back. He takes a step, but staggers sideways. It flares up all of my protective urges. Aldrin watches him, head cocked to the side. Silvan shakes his head again. Veins pop out on his forehead, and a muscle in his jaw ticks.
I lean forward over the railing, staring at Silvan with a lump in my throat. He could be seriously hurt. When my eyes slide to Aldrin, his casual smile has only grown, and his arms are crossed over his chest.
Silvan’s face turns a deep shade of red. It looks like he is struggling as he slowly lowers himself to his knees. It is as though each muscle keeps locking up.I search for any air wields Aldrin might have over him, forcing his movements, but I see none.
It is as though another part of me takes hold and a magic I didn’t know I had pokes its head above the surface.
I perceive Silvan’s life force burning bright in his chest, but there are delicate tendrils around it that run through his entire body and lead back to Aldrin.
The magic that courses through my veins whispers to me, telling me it could take hold of that life force and snuff it out. I ignore it.
On his knees, Silvan holds his blade out in offering, laying it flat across both hands. Even his head bows in submission.
The entire courtyard explodes with applause as the fight ends. The guards look upon both fae with awe. I jolt at the sudden deafening sound, but I don’t drag my eyes away from Silvan.
Those tendrils of magic whip away from him, snapping back to Aldrin. Silvan’s body immediately goes loose. He spits at the ground and stands up, staring daggers at Aldrin for a long moment before walking over to his king and shaking his hand.
The clock tower chimes twelve times, and the entire crowd funnels out. Emerald tunics sewn with iron discs move across my peripheral vision as the guards swirl around me, but I only have eyes for the two fae in the courtyard.
Aldrin took control of Silvan’s body against his will.
The thought of someone being able to do that sends shivers down my spine. I don’t know how he did it, but I plan to find out.