Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
A s a continent surrounded by water both inside and out, Emarion’s ports were crucial to its existence. Though each realm had its own, there were only three of significance.
The port in Fortos, while large, was controlled by the Emarion Army. Its tightly regulated activity dealt mainly in weapons and soldiers.
The port in Meros, Realm of Sea and Sky, was the primary port for all nine realms. Ships carrying passengers and cargo alike moved in and out around the clock, a highly organized dance carried out under the always-shining Meros sun, thanks to its Descended’s ability to manipulate the weather through their wind and water magic.
The port of Umbros, however, was its close rival. Though located nearby, Umbros offered something Meros would not: a blind eye for all those willing to share their profits—and their secrets—with its Queen.
No one really knew what passed through its dark docks, because unlike in Meros and Fortos, every ship in Umbros was off the books. Boats wove their way through a tangle of underground passages, stopping in solitary caves to be loaded and unloaded under the cloak of darkness, often with a cadre of paid mercenaries to keep prying eyes and ears at bay.
Only the Centenaries knew the true scale of their port, and they weren’t talking—at least not to anyone but their Queen.
“There are Centenaries stationed at all the places where the canals open up to the Sacred Sea,” Zalaric explained as he led us through the tunnels, draped in an illusion to hide us from sight. “They scan the minds of everyone on board to ensure all tariffs have been paid. Many have tried to outwit them, but no one’s ever succeeded.”
“Ever?” Taran asked uneasily. “You’re telling us this now? ”
“You’re not going to outwit them. You’re going to avoid them entirely.” I expected a smirk or some teasing banter, but Zalaric’s expression was somber. “My contact knows a hidden way out. I don’t know any more than that—I can’t, or else it would be compromised the next time I report to the Centenaries to pay my tariffs.”
“Does that mean the Queen will eventually know we were here?” Luther asked. He walked close at my side, one hand on my back and the other on his weapon.
Zalaric’s eyes darted to me before he answered. “She will. I cannot hide it forever.”
There was a deliberate tone in his voice that set the hair on my nape prickling.
“Will you be in trouble when they discover you helped us?” I asked.
He looked away. “Don’t worry about me. A jaguar always lands on its feet.”
Although the hallways were pitch-black save for a handful of glowing orbs at our feet, the shining prospect of home was drawing me forward.
Until now, I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on what awaited me back in Lumnos. It was too easy to succumb to the anxiety of what horrible things might have happened in the weeks I’d been gone.
My brother. My mother. Henri. Eleanor. Vance and the Guardians. Maura and the mortals.
But soon, so soon, I could finally take my throne and oust Remis as Regent. The flameroot was nearly gone from my system, and by the time our boat arrived, my magic would be restored in full. I would have the authority—and the might—to put my plans in action.
Luther was right. Wasting any more time here would have been a folly. The Queen of Umbros, and whatever answers she held, would have to wait.
Luther slowed our pace until we were out of earshot of the others, then leaned in close. “Are you having any more hunches?”
“No, why?”
He didn’t answer. His pale eyes were on high alert, jumping warily around the shadows.
“Are you having any?” I asked.
He shook his head, but it was far from convincing.
“We’ll be home soon. That will put us all in higher spirits.” I tugged on his cloak until his gaze dropped to mine, then offered a hopeful smile. “Then we can get to work saving the realm. Together.”
His features turned stony. “ You will save our people. You don’t need me or anyone else.”
“Of course I need you. I can’t do this without every one of my advisors, but you most of all.”
He stopped walking and set a hand on my shoulder. “This is war, Diem. People are going to die—people you care about—and when they do, you must keep going. You cannot lose yourself to grief like...” He hesitated.
“Like I did with my father?” I said, my voice cutting like a blade. Hurt bloomed as Luther stared at me without answering. “Is that why you’re pushing me away, because you think I’ll let my heart get in the way of my duty?”
“The world needs you. That is more important than anything else.”
My tone turned to ice. “Who are you really trying to convince, Luther? Me—or yourself?” I pushed his hand off my shoulder and briskly stalked forward to join the others.
“Everything alright?” Taran asked.
“Fine,” I snapped.
He looked back at Luther, then at me. “You two really need to just fuck this out of your system already.”
I scowled at him. He raised his hands in surrender, though his grin was poorly hidden.
We walked in silence the rest of the way. The air turned humid and musty, and the walls glistened with a buildup of moisture. Scattered archways, locked with gates and marked with lit torches, led to stairs that descended into darkness as the faint sounds of sloshing water echoed down the corridor.
After a time, the archways ended, and the caves took on a rougher, unfinished appearance. We squeezed around large boulders and carefully maneuvered slippery, uneven terrain. I studied the jagged ceiling with apprehension. If we were discovered and I was forced to use my magic, I wasn’t confident its precarious structure would hold.
Seemingly out of nowhere, the tunnel ended. A sheer rock face stretched over our heads, thick and impenetrable, no openings in sight.
Zalaric clasped his hands and turned to face us. “I’ll go with you as far as I can, but beyond this point, you’ll be in the hands of my contact. I will not be able to help you if anything goes wrong.”
“Beyond what point?” Taran asked, scratching his head and staring at the wall of stone.
Zalaric ignored him. “There’s no turning back. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Though he’d spoken the words to Luther, his eyes shifted to me.
“Do we have reason to fear?” Luther asked. “Do you not trust your contact?”
“It’s Umbros . I trust no one here—and neither should you.”
“Wonderful,” Taran grumbled.
Still, Zalaric’s eyes weighed on me. “I would not deliver you to them if I believed they intended to do you harm, but if they do, I cannot prevent it.” His shoulders lifted in a slow shrug, but there was none of the haughtiness in it he normally displayed. Instead, he looked... resigned. Sad, almost. “I have only the power I can afford to buy. Such is the way of life in Umbros.”
“We have no other choice,” Luther said. “We’ll have to trust your contact. Even if you do not.”
Zalaric didn’t move.
Just as I’d experienced once before with Luther, Zalaric’s mind appeared to me as a thin wall of mist.
Look , the voice urged.
I jerked back a step, startled at my godhood’s sudden appearance and its novel demand.
Look , it urged again.
I squinted my eyes, and the haze parted like a curtain drawn back from a window, revealing what felt like an infinite library of images that felt at once wholly foreign and yet intimately familiar. A wave of thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me, but among them, one stood out—a secret buried under a deep layer of sorrow and regret.
And suddenly, I understood.
I glanced over my shoulder at the dark tunnel at our backs, second-guessing my choices and wondering if I was leading us all to ruin.
I reeled my godhood back in and looked back at Zalaric, then subtly dipped my chin.
Understanding. Accepting.
He seemed to understand, too. His shoulders sank. His head hung as he swept one hand in a graceful arc at his side, and the stone along the wall began to shimmer in place.
A birdlike chirp rang out, sounding muffled and far away. Zalaric balled his fist, and the shimmering disappeared, revealing a narrow crawlspace carved into the rock.
“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing toward it.
Taran crossed his arms. “You first.”
“I have to go last, so I can conceal the opening once we’re all through.” Zalaric raked his eyes over Taran, one eyebrow raised. “But if you can do that, just say the word, Terrance.”
Taran growled.
“At least he’s getting closer to your name,” Alixe whispered to him with a sly smile.
“I’ll go,” Luther said. “Don’t follow until you hear from me.”
He crouched low and wobbled. His eyes squeezed shut as he grabbed a nearby rock to steady himself. A moment later, he dropped to his knees, and slowly, stiffly, he disappeared through the crawlspace.
We waited in tense silence for a minute, then another, then finally, Luther’s voice came echoing back: “All clear.”
Taran followed next, then me, then Alixe. I wasn’t sure Zalaric would—if for no other reason than to avoid soiling his silk robes—but he came as promised, sealing off the small opening behind us and casting us into total darkness.
“You’re late,” a woman’s voice called from the shadows.
My heart leapt into my throat.
“Apologies,” Zalaric said. “I took a longer route to avoid being followed.”
Sparks rose from his palms and formed a fluffy, twinkling cloud above our heads that illuminated the woman standing before us. She was short and stout, clad in full-body leathers and laden with blades. Her cropped cherry-red hair, styled into rows of spikes, matched her crimson eyes—a Fortos Descended.
“This is the Cardinal,” Zalaric said. “She’ll be getting you home. Cardinal, this is—”
“Don’t wanna know,” she said brusquely. “Don’t wanna hear your names, why you’re here, or what you’re up to. I know where you’re going. Keep the rest to yourself.” She harrumphed and spun on her heel. “Follow me.”
Questions spun in my mind as we descended a set of rough-hewn stairs. How long had she been in Umbros? Had she been in the army when my mother was there? Had they known each other? Is that how she and Zalaric met? I cursed myself for being too afraid of blowing our cover to ask Zalaric about my mother when I had the chance.
The bottom of the stairs opened up to an enormous flooded cave. A stone landing ran along its edge, while a pontoon boat carrying a large wooden crate rocked gently in the water. Zalaric snuffed out his magic, leaving us in the sole light of a torch affixed to the ship’s bow.
The Cardinal climbed onto the boat and opened the end of the crate. Inside, I spied a handful of bedrolls and a bucket. “Get comfortable,” she said as we all shared uneasy glances. “It’s a long trip.”
Alixe gave Zalaric a shallow bow, and Luther stepped forward to clasp his wrist. “I believe our work together has come to an end. Her Majesty is repealing the progeny laws, so there will be no need for you to take in any more half-mortals.”
“I’m grateful for what you’ve done all these years.” Zalaric cleared his throat, his gaze skimming the ground. “So many of us owe you our lives.”
“You owe me nothing,” Luther said. “Those lives never should have been at risk to begin with.”
“Indeed,” Zalaric murmured.
“But should you wish to repay me...” Luther paused until Zalaric met his stare. “If Her Majesty needs you, answer her call. She is a Queen worth fighting for. Give her a chance, and she will earn your loyalty as surely as she has earned ours.”
A more rational, more adult part of me melted at his sweet show of devotion. But the rest of me belonged to my temper, and it—and I—were still simmering in hurt from his earlier words.
If I’m worth fighting for, then why aren’t you fighting for me? I wondered.
Luther’s gaze snapped to me. I let out a quiet huff and looked away.
Zalaric stepped back and fidgeted with the fabric along his collar. “Be well, Phoenix.”
Luther nodded stiffly. He gave me a long, lingering look, then he and Alixe set off for the boat.
Taran rubbed the back of his neck as he walked past Zalaric. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “It was, uh... interesting.”
Zalaric finally cracked a smile. “You were quite an unexpected surprise.”
Taran grunted and started to shuffle away, then stopped and looked back. “You know, if you ever come to Lumnos... and if you ever learn to say my name correctly... maybe you could teach me some of your tricks.” Zalaric’s grin widened, and Taran’s cheeks turned pink. “With your magic .”
“I’d love to, but I’m afraid I can’t visit a realm with no hairstylists.”
Taran frowned at Zalaric’s short, tight curls. “Lumnos has hairstylists.”
“Really?” Zalaric took a strand of Taran’s messy dark blonde waves and twirled it in his fingers. “Are they just too expensive for you, then? I can loan you some gold if—”
Taran scowled and snatched his hair away. “Nevermind. Forget I offered.” He stormed off toward the boat.
“Goodbye, Taran Corbois,” Zalaric called out. Taran looked back in surprise. “Whatever else fate has in store for us... I’m glad I met you.”
Taran shook his head and continued on, muttering under his breath, “ What’s wrong with my hair? ”
Zalaric watched him go with a wistful smile. He turned to face me, his back to the others.
“I will be praying for your return to Lumnos,” he said. “I hope you make it there safely.”
Words unspoken hung in the air.
His mantle of calm, self-assured strength faltered, and for a moment I saw a flash of the little boy who crossed a sea, wounded and alone, exiled for the crime of being born.
“I only wish you and I could have met under better circumstances,” he added softly.
I laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m glad I met you too, Zalaric Hanoverre. Whatever else fate has in store.”
He closed his eyes and lowered his chin. I leaned in to kiss his cheek, then paused, my mouth hovering near his ear.
“If the others leave without me, will they be safe?” I whispered.
Zalaric stilled. Slowly, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s too late.”
I pulled back with a sigh. At my sides, two balls of whirling magic—one of light, the other of shadow—formed at my palms.
“Is there a problem?” Luther called out.
“Hurry up, lady,” the Cardinal barked. “The longer we stay here, the riskier it gets.”
I didn’t move. “Zalaric, if any of them are killed, I swear on the gods—”
“Well, well, well,” a new voice purred from the back of the cave. “I knew we would see each other again, Your Majesty. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”