Chapter Twenty-Three
Castor Aegaeon
The doors of the Summit groaned open, echoing through the vaulted chamber like a sigh that had been waiting for me.
I instructed Talon to be taken to the healers immediately, hoping that Skylar would soon return.
The magical barriers sparked faintly as I passed through the entrance, the palace’s magic humming in recognition of its prince and new princess.
And there he was.
Daxton.
I sighed with relief at seeing him, then felt a flash of irritation coil around my silver tongue. He hadn’t bothered to send word. Bastard.
He stood at the base of the grand staircase beside Gunnar, a pillar of calm amid the faint hum of magic that vibrated in the hall.
Even from across the chamber, the strain was evident in his thinned lips and the tight set of his shoulders.
There was a weariness that darkened the edges of his now glowing silver eyes, which I still hadn’t adjusted to.
But still, he looked every inch the king I was proud to serve.
Nyssa’s fingers brushed mine as we stepped inside, settling me before the irritation boiling in my chest could overflow. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, eyes calculating as they swept the hall. A single look from her articulated more than a grand declaration ever could.
When I hesitated in my approach, her fingers slid against my palm, signing, “Breathe.”
I did.
Once.
Then, I strode forward, boots striking the marble with deliberate force. “How long?” I demanded. “How long have you been back?”
“A few hours,” Daxton said. His tone was even, but the quiet rasp in his voice told its own story. And it was not one of happily-ever-afters.
“A few hours?” I repeated, irritation rising sharply behind my clenched teeth.
“I think this is my sign to leave this spirited conversation,” Gunnar said, chuckling under his breath as he turned toward the hall leading to the training fields. “I’ll prepare the remaining warriors staying here to guard Silver Meadows and find you within the hour, Daxton.”
Gunnar’s footsteps echoed along the walls, his laughter following him out of the Summit.
“Three days,” I said, turning toward my brother, “Three days without a single word. No reply to my messages. No update from you or Skylar. And here I walk in to find you casually chatting with Gunnar like nothing’s happened?”
The faintest crease appeared between my brother’s brows, but his eyes stayed level with mine. “I wasn’t chatting,” he said quietly. “I was reporting intel to my general.”
Nyssa moved closer, resting her hand lightly against my forearm. The touch was barely there, but it steadied me.
“Where is she?” I asked. “Where’s Skylar? What happened while we were sailing over the Narrow Sea for the past three days?”
Daxton’s jaw tightened, and the mask of the high king wavered under the weight of all that must have transpired over our days apart. “We, well, Skylar, saved Shaw.”
Nyssa stilled beside me, her gaze flicking toward him.
“Saved him?” I asked. The words came out too fast, too sharp. “From what exactly? I need the details, brother, and I mean all of them.”
Daxton’s shoulders rose and fell with a slow, deliberate breath. “Gilen attacked him, and then Anjani tried to kill Neera.”
The silence that followed was bone-chilling as Nyssa and I took in the news.
Nyssa’s fingers tensed against my arm before she signed softly, her movements quick and practiced, “What happened? Are Neera and Shaw alright? What about Zola?”
My wife was fond of our shadow jumper, and so was I. Her unease through our bond mirrored my own.
“Shaw’s recovering and is in Crimson City,” Daxton said before I could press further. “Neera and Zola are unharmed as well.”
I exhaled hard as relief cut through the tension in my chest, but only for a heartbeat. “Then why the silence? Why did we hear nothing for three days?”
Daxton’s eyes snapped open, meeting mine with a look that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Because there’s more.”
Wasn’t there always…
The air thickened with that heavy, thrumming quiet, the kind that comes before a twist of fate steps in and changes everything.
“Skylar and I went to Crimson City to inform Adohan and Idris of what happened, working to coordinate attack plans. I just returned from teleporting the bulk of our armies there.”
“Crimson City?” I repeated.
“It’s the closest point to Solace and the mainland from the Inner Kingdom. It was a strategic necessity.”
“Why?” Nyssa signed beside me.
Daxton looked to Nyssa, and something flickered in his eyes as he noticed the silver band on her left hand. His smile was a whisper on the winds, but it was all I needed to interpret his approval on the matter.
“Because what’s coming next won’t wait for us to deliberate,” he said. “And because there’s a twist in the weave of fate that not even Castor could have foreseen.”
My pulse spiked. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning,” Daxton said, his voice dropping lower, “that the balance has shifted. We’ve been given an advantage. One the enemy doesn’t yet realize we hold.”
He paused then, as if choosing whether to tell me the rest.
“Daxton,” I warned. “Don’t start with half-truths. What happened? Gods, you have me yearning for Skylar to recount this tale. She wouldn’t be so cryptic.”
His expression hardened. “You’ll understand when we reach Aelius. That’s where Skylar is now.”
I frowned. “Why Aelius? I thought you said the armies are in Crimson City?”
“After I bring Talon to the healers in Crimson City, I’m returning to Aelius,” Daxton stated firmly. “And you, brother, are coming with me. Nyssa, too, if she’ll lend her eyes.” He looked at her then, and there was no mistaking the respect in his tone. “What we’ve found… It changes things.”
Nyssa’s fingers moved swiftly, tension threading through each sign, “What did you and Skylar find?”
Daxton’s eyes darkened. “Not what,” he said, “who.”
And just like that, the ground beneath me shifted.
Oh, gods, what fate did the Mother and Father orchestrate for us this time?