TWENTY-TWO
Angharad
When they arrived at the mountain camp in the morning with the fae, they shared the news that the war in Norwen and Lenwen had ceased.
About a dozen of the remaining sorcerers began to pack up and leave at that moment.
Some spoke of sneaking their way to Norwen and Lenwen on foot by means of disguising magic while others were setting out to make the journey into Mycan, and from there taking a ship south.
About half of their original number remained to hear their plan, Seith among them.
“Now that the stone is destroyed, the magic flowing into the city has gone,”
said Gideon.
“Already the effects are being felt by those in the valley, and by this evening, they will have sent armed men to investigate the cause. We need to be gone without a trace by then.”
“You are all welcome to take your leave, but now that the power is gone, there are others who are also under the shadow of Corvus,”
said Hara.
“The fae are implicated. They were charged with being the stone’s keepers. Now that the stone is gone, they may face retribution. We will journey to the fae court here on Herebore and warn them of what has happened.”
“Why should we care about those who would sell us out?”
said Odessa with her arms crossed.
“You shouldn’t be expected to care. We know we ask too much of you to accompany us,”
said the fae woman.
“But the fault lies with my sister and her advisors. The people are innocent of all this. The fae should be given the chance to leave if they wish.”
“And if they don’t?”
said Odessa.
“Then at least they are aware,”
said the fae woman.
“Your presence would show a united front. It is all of us against Corvus.”
“Would it be dangerous?”
asked another witch.
The fae woman turned her unblinking stare upon her.
“It might be. I have Rexina blood, but my magical protection may only go so far,”
The gathered sorcerers muttered and shifted restlessly, and several began to make ready to leave. When they departed, between twenty and thirty remained.
“Thank you,”
said the fae woman.
“I will be forever grateful to you for helping my people.”
“I’m staying for her,”
said Odessa, nodding at Hara.
“I owe her my life, and if she needs something of me, I will gladly give it.”
The remaining sorcerers nodded, their expressions hard. Hara felt a deep well of gratitude open in her chest. Seith trained proud eyes on her, but Hara ignored it. No doubt he was still under the delusion that she was the heir to his new reign of sorcerers.
“Thank you,”
said Hara.
“I swear to you, I will not misuse your trust.”
Hara’s mother stayed behind with Alcmene to recover. The fae cottage had all manner of wards to keep it concealed from the likes of Corvus and his men.
“They will be safe,”
said the fae man.
“Our home has kept us well hidden for twenty years.”
“When we return, we will leave this place. I do not want to become too much of a burden,”
said Hara.
“You have been so generous to us.”
“Think nothing of the sort.
My mate and I share the same sentiment as the witches who agreed to come with us.
For undoing the evil of the stone and for coming to help us warn the fae, you have our eternal friendship.
And for that, you deserve to know our true names. I am Caelon, consort to Rexina Adira.”
Hara nodded, unaccustomed to so many grand declarations of loyalty.
“I am Angharad Arlook,”
she said, and they shook hands. She would never be an Ilmarinen, even if she shared their blood. Seith had sullied the name for her.
“This is a special bond for fae. It opens certain magical connections between us.”
“I am honored,”
said Hara.
She went to her mother’s bedside. Desideria sat on her bedroll, propped up with pillows to rest her leg. It was nearly healed, but she complained of it twinging if she stood on it for too long. Alcmene sat by her side, a book open on her lap.
“I will come back as soon as I am able,”
said Hara. It felt wrong of her to leave her mother behind so soon after her rescue, but there would be time to spend together once Hara returned.
“I know you would,”
said her mother, a sad smile touching her features.
“But that is not what is to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“The fae realm will not be your last journey. You will go to your friends in the south and tell them all that has happened. They need to be warned, too.”
Hara stared at her mother.
“Did you have a vision, or is this general advice?”
Her mother only smiled and pulled her in for a long embrace.
“I will be safe waiting right here, when you have finished what needs to be done.”
“I’ll protect her,”
said Alcmene, resting her hand over Desideria’s.
“No harm shall come to her, my girl.”
“Thank you,”
said Hara, embracing her tutor. Alcmene held her tightly, her grip surprisingly strong for one so short and stocky.
“What a woman you are. I would have dearly liked to watch you grow,”
Alcmene said in a rough whisper, and tears sprang to Hara’s eyes to realize that her gruff teacher was crying. The weight of the years pressed down on her, driving home the realization that she had been without them for twice as long as she had them. Each moment she spent in their presence was more precious than gold.
Hara heard a sniffle, and she turned to see her mother wiping her eyes. Hara reached for her, and the three women held each other, quietly sobbing, but not entirely heartbroken.
“Where is the entrance to the fae realm?”
asked Gideon. They stood in the woods not far from the cottage with Adira and Caelon, waiting as the sorcerers made their way down from the glacier camp. Hara knew the entrance was here on the mountain, but she knew little else about the secretive fae folk.
“It is simple. Find an arch, and walk backwards through it,”
said Adira.
Gideon blinked and lifted a brow. “An arch?”
“A bough, a spiderweb, stone, ice. The two ends must be touching something, so the arch cannot be broken.”
Hara looked about them, and then she spotted a fallen sapling nearby that bent so that the top touched the ground. Adira saw where her eyes had gone and she smiled.
By this time all of the sorcerers had gathered in the clearing, and Adira clapped her hands once to gain their attention.
“Everything depends on my sister’s will. Fae are bound by magic to follow the Rexina in all things, whether they agree with her or not. If she heeds our warning and decides to move the court, they will follow,”
said Adira.
“I will speak for us all.”
“Once we enter the fae realm, you must heed our warning,”
said Caelon.
“Do not sample any food or drink, or else you will find yourself refusing to leave. And most importantly of all, do not join in any dances, no matter how tempting they seem. You will never be able to stop, and you will forget who you are and what you are there for.”
“My magic can provide you some protection, but it does not take away your free will,”
said Adira.
“If you do any of these things, on your own head be it.”
With that she went to stand before the arched sapling, and she turned so that she faced the rest of them.
Then she began to walk backward, and as soon as she stepped under the arch, her form seemed to blink out of existence.
After a slight pause, sorcerers began to step forward to follow suit.
Hara watched as one by one, they melted into the air, their nervous expressions swallowed up by unseen magic.
Hara and Gideon were among the last to step through.
Hara walked backward, keeping her gaze on the bright blue patches that gleamed through the leaves above.
As soon as she passed under the sapling, the sunny forest winked out almost instantly.
Hara had to wait for her eyes to adjust, and details gradually emerged from the gloom.
Gnarled roots the width of barrels twisted and tangled above them, forming a corridor.
Hara felt as tiny as a field mouse as she gazed at the hulking growth that wove around rock and earth like snakes.
Here and there among the bends and twists, faint spots of light glowed as though someone had splashed diamond paint onto the roots.
Fairy lights, she realized with wonder.
The arched sapling was here in the tunnel, disguised among the roots, and Gideon emerged from it walking backward.
Hara clasped his arms to steady him, and he turned to her with an anxious expression, looking around at the softly glimmering walls.
“She knows I am here,”
said Adira.
“Stay close to me, and remember not to eat, drink, or dance.”
She guided them down the corridor, and then Hara couldn’t help but gasp.
The passage opened into an enormous cavern, with soaring walls so high that it looked as though the peak of the mountain had been hollowed out.
Golden shafts of sunlight poured from the open ceiling.
At the far end of the cavern, a pool of light illuminated a circular space that heaved with fae, and Adira began to lead them along the narrow path that weaved among the rock.
Roots branched and swirled over the walls.
Water trickled in pockets, thick with emerald moss and sparkling with dew drops.
Delicate star flowers and moon flowers and other enchanted herbs grew in the nooks and crannies, their fresh fragrance cutting through the earth and the damp.
As they walked along the path, Hara saw miniature homes tucked away in these nooks, and tiny fairies with wings darted out of sight with a light fluttering sound as they saw the sorcerers approaching.
Homes of all shapes and sizes were nestled between dripping stalagmites and stalactites, made of fungus, twisted branches, woven leaves, and moss.
There were even lines of washing strung up and criss-crossing each other, minute shifts and hose swaying as they passed.
Forking paths and corridors branched out in a labyrinthine web from the main chamber, and Hara quickly became disoriented.
She did not think she could find the tunnel where they’d entered if she tried.
Ahead, a waterfall of sparkling golden liquid splashed into a pool, with winking crystal glasses waiting on a stone ledge.
Several of the sorcerers stared longingly at it before moving on.
They neared the grand floor at the end of the cavern.
Before them, a fairy revel seethed.
Dancers of all shapes and sizes twirled in circles to wild and lilting music.
Wings, cloven hoofs, and feet leapt and fluttered.
The laughter and chatter of the strange fae tongue was infectious, and the beat of the skin drums was impossible to ignore.
Despite herself, Hara could feel her feet itching to join them.
Gideon grasped her hand, and her head cleared as though he had nudged her awake.
As they ascended the stone steps, the music stopped and the revelers ceased their hypnotic dance.
Adira led the way, slicing through the crowd as though she were a ship through choppy water.
Hara tried not to gawk as all manner of fae creatures gazed upon them with yellow, violet, and spring green eyes.
The sea of faces eventually parted enough to reveal a set of thrones at the top of the hall.
In the throne to the right, a toad-like fae man with silvery robes sat with his mottled cheek resting in his webbed hand.
But in the grandest seat sat a small fae woman, nearly swallowed by the enormous gown she wore.
Above the voluminous dress of white spidersilk peered a pale blue face with delicately pointed ears.
She was smaller and more frail looking than Adira, and her eyes were so large they were almost bulging.
Standing at her side, another toadlike fae whispered into her ear at their approach.
“My sister,”
said Armot in a surprisingly deep and husky voice.
“How dare you show your banished face here.”
“We come to deliver a warning,”
said Adira.
“The Maw is destroyed.”
Gasps and shrieks rose from the crowd of fae. Armot sat unmoving in her chair.
“Corvus’ men are coming tonight, and when they see what has happened, they will seek to blame someone,”
said Adira.
“And who is to blame?”
said the toad-like councilor in a throaty voice.
“The stone has remained intact for thousands of years. What has happened to it?”
Hara nervously waited to see what Adira would say.
“Iron was its undoing. It was completely by chance, but now all those who were imprisoned are free,”
said Adira, gesturing to the sorcerers.
“So, you have brought them here to enact your vengeance,”
said Armot, leaning forward in her seat.
“You, who spoke out. You, who have always seeked to take from me what should have been mine.”
“Armot . . .”
Adira said, her carrying voice grown soft. Caelon shifted uncomfortably. Adira glanced at him, then she continued in that soft tone.
“I am not here to seek retribution. I only want to warn you that this place may not be safe come nightfall. The court must move.”
“Corvus promised us protection,”
said the toadlike councilor.
“He would never move against us.”
“That protection was conditional,”
said Adira.
“Without the stone, their promises are worthless.”
“What has Corvus given you after all these years? What has changed?”
Caelon’s voice rang out.
“There are no fae at court, and we are not welcome in the city. Our world has shrunk thanks to their lies.”
Armot turned her bulging gaze to Caelon and her furious expression lifted, as though she had not expected him to speak.
“We chose to withdraw to the mountain. We do better among our own kind. It has always been so.” She said.
“But it was not what was promised,”
said Adira, weariness tinging her patience. Armot’s gaze snapped back to her sister, shrewd and bitter once more. Instead of addressing the truth of Adira’s words, she changed tack.
“If you are not here to get revenge, why did you bring a legion of sorcerers at your back?”
asked Armot.
“They have agreed to help defend the fae from Corvus. These are the people you helped imprison, and yet they have offered their support.”
“I don’t believe it. There is something else at play here,”
said Armot.
“There is another reason they came, and there is another reason you are here.”
Her gaze roved over the sorcerers, and her bulging eyes seemed drawn to Hara.
“You smell of iron.”
Hara realized too late that she still wore the iron dagger under her cloak. Her insides were twisting as Armot stood from her throne, voluminous gown unfurling. She raised her arm and pointed a sharp finger at Hara.
“She is the one who did it. She is the one who destroyed the stone and brought doom upon our heads. She is the one to blame!”
Gideon stood before her as the fae creatures around them began to close in on them.
Hara clutched at the dagger and unsheathed it, pointing it at the closest fae that was trying to grab at her with spindly fingers.
It immediately retreated at the sight of the iron, and Hara swung in a circle so that all could see it.
“You need to leave this place,”
Hara said.
“Corvus’ men are coming, and they have weapons more terrible than iron.”
“See how she brandishes the iron as a threat!”
shrieked Armot.
“Seize her, seize them all!”
Roger stepped forward, sparks glittering from his fingertips.
As the leering faces of the fae snarled and snapped at them, Hara felt an odd tugging sensation on the blade in her hand.
She tried to catch it, but suddenly it was free of her grasp and flying across the room.
It moved like a glint of light above their heads, a shard slipping silently through the air.
She watched as it flew of its own accord and buried itself in Armot’s screaming throat.
Her screams halted abruptly with a wet gurgle.
The fae queen clutched at it, choking, but her hands sizzled as they slipped around the handle.
She fell slowly, sinking within the folds of her downy skirt.
Steam rose from the smoking wound in her neck, and finally, the rustling of her small struggling form halted.
Hara turned wildly, expecting that the fae creatures would descend upon them and they would have to fight for their lives back out of the mountain.
But to her surprise, she found that they had all turned to stare at Adira, whose mouth was agape in horror.
There was a beat of silence, and then one by one, they began to bow.
All manner of fae bent low at the waist until only Adira and the humans remained standing upright.
Hara looked all around in bewilderment, and then she caught Odessa’s eye.
Odessa gave her a secret smile, then she turned away to look at Adira, the new Rexina of the fae court.
Hara and the other humans were escorted to a room located behind the thrones.
They were seated around a long oval table, and fae of various sizes lined the wall, each with daggers of bone and wood pointed toward the sorcerers’ backs.
After a few moments of tense silence, Adira entered, followed by a dozen fae in robes of spider silk.
Her head was downturned, and when she raised her face to survey the room, her eyes were rimmed with purple, as though she had been crying.
Her expression was stony, however, as she took the place at the head of the table.
At the other end of the oval, the toad councilor stood surrounded by a group of toad-like fae.
His black eyes roved unblinkingly over them all.
Hara’s hands were cold as she clenched them into fists, fighting the tremble that radiated from her center.
Adira was obviously upset at the death of her sister, and Hara did not know what would happen now. They could not rely on her mercy.
The frosty silence was eventually broken by the toad councilor.
“How dare you return here to stage an assassination,”
he said in his guttural voice.
Adira hesitated, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and weak.
“That was not our intention, Mog. This was a tragic accident.”
“It doesn’t look well on you to begin your reign with the blood of your sister on your hands.”
He snarled, and the councilors at his back let out burbles of agreement.
Hara thought it was curious that though Adira was suspected of murdering her own sister, her reign was not contested. The fae’s instinct to follow the Rexina was stronger than Hara believed possible.
“It is not what I would have chosen,”
said Adira in the same weary voice.
“Which one of you did it?”
said Mog, slapping his webbed hands so that they were splayed upon the table. He glared around at the sorcerers, transparent lids blinking once.
“They cannot stand the touch of iron, just as we cannot,”
said Adira.
“She can,”
said the toad, and all turned to look at Hara.
She couldn’t announce to them all that she was an alchemist. Could she?
She turned to Gideon with searching eyes and he shook his head the tiniest fraction. He did not seem to think it wise. But he was non-magical and human. She had rescued these sorcerers from the stone, and all had come here out of loyalty to her. The fae cared nothing for gold, using faux gold to lure humans and little else. Even if the fae did seek to reveal her secret, she planned to be far from here as soon as possible.
And the only way she could leave this place was to explain. Hara still had to work against every impulse as she spoke.
“I am an alchemist, a Seer, and a healer. But I am no telekinetic.”
“How can we know for sure?”
sneered Mog.
“I cannot prove to you what I am not,”
said Hara.
“The knife was tugged from her grasp. We all saw it,”
said Gideon.
“Why would she try to catch it if she was the one controlling it?”
“Why, indeed,”
said Mog.
“A clever trick, a sleight of hand to prove your innocence. You say the Maw was destroyed by chance. Now you would have us believe that the knife flew by chance as well?”
“Enough,”
said Adira, and instantly, Mog’s wide mouth snapped shut.
“The human is right. We all saw that the blade escaped the alchemist’s hand against her will. She is above suspicion.”
“But,”
croaked Mog with difficulty.
“The others—”
“Silence,”
said Adira, and he was struck mute once more.
“There is little time to waste. Corvus’ men will be here by sunset, and we must move court quickly. I will speak to each sorcerer myself to reveal the truth in time. But you and Armot’s councilors will have no part in the interrogation. We need none of your barbaric methods.”
A chill crawled over Hara’s skin. She knew that the fae could be cruel; she had seen glimpses of their torture in Turnswallow’s memories.
“Lady Angharad and her companion are free to go, with my gratitude. And hear this, all of you,”
said Adira, and a rough, deep timbre entered her voice when she next spoke.
“No fae shall reveal what was said in this room. You are bound to this order by your very blood. May it boil you from the inside if the words pass your lips or are shaped by your hand.”
Though it was not meant for her, Hara felt the curse sear over her skin as though a branding iron had passed too close.
The fae gathered around the room grimaced as they felt the discomfort of the curse enter their blood.
Adira turned her sorrowful gaze to Hara, and Hara tried to communicate her gratitude into the empty air between them.
None of Armot’s sympathizers would sell her out to Corvus, Falk, or any other person who sought to gain from her abilities.
The fae queen had safeguarded her secret.
It did not take long to assemble all the fae to move court.
There was an entire passageway full of traverse tapestries, and Hara stared in open-mouthed wonder as they passed enormous stitched scenes of mountains, lush valleys, and other portals to their keeps.
The fae clustered around a tapestry depicting a serene ocean and grassy cliffs.
“Where are they going?”
Hara asked Caelon.
“Our oceanside stronghold. It is the most remote of our courts and has not been used in a couple hundred years,” he said.
Hara reflected on how instantly the fae’s allegiance had changed.
She remembered what Adira had said, that their people were much like a hive of bees with instinctual loyalty to their queen.
The way she had cursed an entire room of her subjects by a simple command was a breathtaking piece of magic.
Hara glanced over her shoulder at Adira, who was surrounded by her attendants as they each waited to travel.
How would it feel to be handed a crown and a kingdom so abruptly after twenty years of exile, and by such violent means? Even if she was called to it by her blood?
“I cannot imagine how she feels about all this,”
said Hara.
“Remorse, of course, but we fae are not as sentimental as humans,”
said Caelon.
Hara hesitated, not quite knowing how to ask, but then she found that her curiosity won out.
“What did Armot mean when she said Adira always wanted what was rightfully hers? Armot was the one who banished her twin and took the throne for herself.”
Caelon’s gray cheeks grew a bluish flush.
“Well. When Adira and Armot were assigned consorts, you could say that Armot had a preference for me. But Maunel’s family insisted their son was matched with Armot, and so Adira was paired with me instead.”
So it was jealousy over a mate that made Armot despise her sister so. Hara secretly thought she would have preferred Caelon over a toad husband as well, but she did not have a fae’s eye for beauty. Hara wondered if that was the true reason for Adira’s banishment. If Adira and Caelon were absent from court, Armot wouldn’t have to see them together.
“And the curse she gave . . . why did Adira not use that power to convince the fae that Corvus was a threat? She could have made them listen to her,”
said Hara. She was desperately curious to understand the limits of the fae’s magic.
“She tried to use her authority, but her orders didn’t stick. It is quite rare to have two Rexinas; it isn’t natural. When they work in opposition to each other, their magic is not as effective. Usually one is killed, but thankfully, Adira had the sense to take her banishment without a fight,”
said Caelon.
“She is also hesitant to use her authority, which is why Armot was able to overpower her. We do not have many ethics when it comes to magic, but Adira was always unusual.”
There was a moment of quiet while Hara absorbed this.
“What I do not understand is how the knife took on a life of its own,”
said Caelon pensively.
“You did not throw it, so what happened?”
Hara bit her lip, but did not say anything. She was not sure what would happen to Odesssa if she told the truth, but she did not know if she was doing the right thing by protecting her secret. The fae would escape in time, so it was good that Adira was their new queen, but a part of her wondered if she was trying to find reasons to justify Armot’s murder. Her stomach turned with unease, and she felt a little disgusted with herself at the thought.
After Hara and Gideon had left the room behind the thrones, they’d waited as Adira questioned the remaining sorcerers. Odessa emerged unscathed with the rest of them, so she had obviously proved that she was a capable liar.
“I’m not certain,”
said Hara.
“One moment it was still, and the next it felt as though it was being tugged from my grip by an invisible hand.”
Caelon glanced at her, then looked away.
“I’ve never seen a magical object behave in such a way. Especially one made of iron.”
Hara shook her head and replied truthfully.
“Nor have I.”
Caelon sighed.
“I suppose it does not matter. Adira is the Rexina now, and I trust her to stand up to Corvus.”
Hara found it rather baffling that he and the other fae seemed to feel no grief or more than a passing curiosity at the manner of Armot’s death. It appeared Caelon spoke truly when he said the fae had little sentimentality among them. He gave her a deep nod and went to stand beside his mate.
Hara found Gideon nearby, staring at a plate of cherries on a table that had appeared out of nowhere. She raised her hand to his cheek and turned his head to look at her, and he shook it slightly.
“This place is dangerous. I don’t even like cherries,” he said.
“We’ll be gone from here soon enough,”
said Hara.
“Here, I got this back for you and I cleaned it,”
said Gideon, surreptitiously showing her the dagger before he slipped it back into the holster at her hip. He did not say anything more, but his eyes flicked to hers uncertainly.
“I didn’t cause the knife to fly, Gideon,”
she said softly.
“I did,”
said a low voice behind them, and they turned to see Odessa. Her arms were crossed and her mouth was set. She did not look the least bit contrite for assassinating the fae ruler.
“She was never going to cooperate, and the woman we came with said she had Rexina blood. Besides, it’s thanks to the dead one that we were put in that stone.”
Hara and Gideon stared at her with open mouths. Then Gideon turned to Hara.
“Is this what it feels like to have moral superiority?”
Odessa shrugged.
“I have morals, but I don’t have patience. Missing twenty years from my life has erased that virtue.”
And with that, she took her place in line behind another witch to step into the tapestry.
The grasses waved in the wind like a green sea, and the sea itself was steely and gray. Hara and Gideon stood on the surface while below their feet, the fae court was unfurling, becoming reacquainted with the grottoes and coral caves of their new home. Many were old enough to remember the last time the fae had held court here, but for many more, it was a new world.
The ocean stronghold smelled of salt and damp, and the walls were crusted over with barnacles. Rexina attendants moved through the corridors with enchanted spindles, winding up the spidersilk that stretched thickly over the passages. Hara wondered if they would use it to fashion a new gown for Adira, who they were now calling the Iron Rexina. The name sent an uncomfortable chill coursing over Hara’s skin.
The sorcerers had been shown to rooms that resembled a series of interconnected grottos, with light from the enchanted water above shifting and waving across the sandy floors. The rooms were sparse but comfortable and, Hara couldn’t help but notice, sequestered from the fae’s living quarters.
“I’m sure you’ll understand,”
Caelon had said.
“We must be mindful of the comfort of our people.”
Hara had mused over this as she’d watched the healer witches claim beds and exclaim over the softly undulating anemones that jutted in clusters from the walls. The sorcerers were here to support the fae, but until the killer was identified, she could understand their precautions.
Adira and Caelon joined Hara and Gideon on the grassy surface, emerging from an invisible seam in the earth that served as the entrance to the fae realm.
“Will you be safe here? The tapestry is still in your Perule stronghold,”
said Hara.
“Corvus and his men do not know how to use them, and if they bring the witch hunters, they will have to search twenty locations before they find us. We have other wards here that we did not have there. This is the safest of the courts,”
said Adira.
“And now, we have help and plenty of warning,”
said Caelon.
“We will kill any who happen to find their way here.”
Hara nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing.
“If you need to contact us, use this,”
said Adira, and she passed a rolled-up piece of cloth to Hara. Hara lifted the corner; it was a tapestry with a simple meadow pattern.
“When you step inside of it, say our names, and a path will appear that will bring you directly to us.”
“Thank you,”
said Hara, clutching the bundle close. She understood now what Caelon had meant when he said knowing their names would open new connections of magic between them.
“Where will you go now?”
asked Adira.
“My mother said something to me before we left,”
said Hara.
“We need to warn the princess and the Steward in the south that the war may not be over yet.”
Gideon glanced at her, but said nothing.
“If the fae can help in any way, you have only to call upon us,”
said Adira. With a solemn wave of their long hands, they turned and walked into the waving grasses. The green ocean seemed to swallow them up, their blueish skin and white hair melding seamlessly into the landscape.
“Your mother saw us in the south? Both of us?”
asked Gideon.
“I don’t know.”
Hara sighed.
“She still has the ability to see into the future; perhaps a vision slipped through. But I trust that it is the right thing to do regardless.”
Gideon nodded slowly, staring out at the sea.
“The weapon my father is creating worries me,”
he said.
“He spoke of selling it, but now that the war is over, who would he sell it to?”
“Would he use it himself?”
Hara asked.
Gideon’s lip quivered, his eyes hard, and fear plummeted through her middle.
“I don’t know,”
he said.
“Now that the city is in darkness and the war is over, it puts him in a desperate position.”
The fingertips of a desperate man was the worst place for such a weapon to be.
“But what would he have to gain?”
she asked. It was difficult to comprehend the motivations of such a man.
“He would find a reason,”
said Gideon bitterly.
“It is not a question of what he has to gain, but what does he have to lose? It is the only leverage he has, and so he will use it.”
Hara closed her eyes, concentrating on the shush of the grasses and the rumble of the sea. She did not regret that the sorcerers were now free, but the cost seemed too great to bear. Alexandra and Tom had to know.
She opened her eyes.
“I know that it would be dangerous for you, but selfishly, I want you to come with me.”
“You do not need to ask,”
said Gideon, enfolding her into his arms.
“They can throw me in the dungeons, but I will find my way back to you. I got out of that damn stone, didn’t I?”
Hara’s smile faded.
“I suppose it’s not as if you can go home now.”
“No. When my father finds out I was involved with freeing the sorcerers, I’m afraid he’ll be rather vexed with me.”
Said Gideon softly.
“Who knows? Maybe he’ll train the weapon on me instead.”
Underneath his joking tone, Hara sensed a heavy sadness. His discovery and capture would mean death for treason. He had all but lost his family.
“I’m sorry,”
she whispered, cupping her hand over his cold cheek.
“Don’t be,”
he murmured.
“I would forsake them, enter the stone, wait for months, and walk backwards into faerie all over again if that was what you wanted.”
He leaned down to kiss her, and his mouth was warm amidst the wind that tore at their hair and their cloaks. They watched the gray, shifting sea, and Hara breathed in the salt air.
“Do you want to know something odd?”
she said.
“Even though my mind conjures up a beach to use my Sight, I’ve never seen the ocean before. The real ocean,”
“Perhaps you have some foresight after all,”
said Gideon.
“What are those creatures there, on the rocks?”
Gideon squinted.
“Seals. Though after all the magic we have seen, I would not be surprised if they were actually selkies.”
The casual way he spoke of mythological shapeshifters brought a smile to her lips. It made her think of the sour faces he used to pull at the simplest of her healing spells.
“I’m sorry for entangling you in all this. You must be ready to never hear the word ‘magic’ again,” she said.
Gideon’s eyes were warm as he drew her into another kiss.
“Entangle me. Please, entangle me.”