Chapter 34
The next morning arrived long before the sun.
The world was still cloaked in darkness when I found myself standing on a narrow, weather-beaten dock at the far edge of Noctharis, wrapped in a thick cloak that somehow remained wholly inadequate against the biting cold.
The sea stretched black and endless before me, melting seamlessly into the night beyond.
I looked out across it and saw only one thing. Levinica vanishing beneath the water.
She still hadn’t been found.
She hadn't washed ashore. Veylan had sent his shadows through the reefs at the mouth of the bay, where the jutting rocks caught bodies all too often. Drowned fishermen who'd misjudged the weather. Unlucky souls dragged out by the tide. Yet the sea had not surrendered her.
My gaze settled on Rìan’s back, and I scowled. His hood concealed his face, but I knew he was staring out across the bay, across the sea toward Elantis, as Veylan and Segolayne murmured quietly beside him.
The anger simmering beneath my grief flared anew. He should have dragged her back to shore. He should have forced her.
His eyes had blazed as he stood knee-deep in the surf, his power swelling until it seemed to smother the very air. Yet somehow he'd done nothing. He hadn't compelled her. Hadn't seized her mind the way he should have been able to.
Was Levinica's shield truly that powerful?
Or had the fall of the Veil diminished him somehow?
No. Not with magic like this. Even now, I could feel the sheer immensity of it crackling around him, pressing against my skin with every breath.
I'd felt Aedric's magic before, and he was the most formidable Fae Lord in Elantis. Yet even he paled beside Rìan.
So why hadn't it worked? Why hadn't he been able to stop Levinica?
I tugged my cloak tighter around myself and exhaled, my breath fogging in the air.
I still couldn't believe we were leaving Noctharis.
Levinica had been right. Armed with the discovery she'd made, Rìan had unearthed an old map of Elantis from before the Dusklands had broken away from the continent.
By cross-referencing it with the drawing of the Veins, he'd managed to pinpoint the locations of the wells.
I'd glanced at it only once. It might as well have been a page of meaningless lines and ink.
I didn't know how to read a map well enough to make sense of it, and after Levinica...
I couldn't summon the will to try. I knew only that one lay somewhere in the Wildlands, another in the Court of Tides, and the last in the mortal lands.
The thought of seeing them filled me with dread. I'd warned Rìan the mortal realm might already be overrun with Bone-Wrought, yet he hadn't shown so much as a sliver of concern. In fact, he'd more or less ignored me.
Whatever awaited us at the third and final well, I'd deal with it when we got there. One gate at a time.
The boat waiting for us was a small sloop, little more than a weathered fishing vessel.
Its hull was old but sturdy, worn smooth by years of salt and sea.
A single mast rose from its center, the sail neatly furled against the boom.
A pair of oars rested across the benches, ready to guide the boat through the treacherous mouth of the bay before the wind could take over.
Not exactly the vessel I would’ve expected the Dark Prince to travel in.
“It won’t be missed?” Rìan asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since we arrived. I wasn’t sure why he even cared.
Veylan snorted. “I bought it.”
Rìan lifted a brow.
Veylan rolled his eyes. “Well, technically, you bought it.”
Segolayne huffed.
“I paid the owner enough to buy three new boats,” Veylan continued. “The male nearly kissed me. He even offered me his daughter.” He sighed dramatically. “A shame my diet has changed so significantly over the centuries.”
A quiet breath escaped Rìan. It might have been the ghost of amusement, but if it was, it vanished almost immediately.
“The boat won’t be missed,” Veylan finished. “Trust me.”
Rìan nodded once before turning his attention to Segolayne.
“Levinica’s passing is still contained, and—” The words caught.
Segolayne fell abruptly silent, her jaw locking as she looked away.
She drew one slow breath through her nose, then another, her throat working once.
Rìan waited. When she finally lifted her head again, her eyes shone but her voice was steady.
“The servants have been told she’s suffering an episode and that I’m caring for her personally.
No one knows. As far as they’re concerned, it’s life as usual.
” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Until you return. With Dannis.”
I swallowed and looked away.
“Good,” was all Rìan said.
I felt Segolayne's stare burn into the side of my face, her naked hatred clear. She didn't need to speak for me to understand. She thought another book had triggered one of Levinica's episodes. That reading with me had somehow pushed her over the edge a second time. That it was my fault.
She was wrong about the reason—but she wasn't wrong about me. I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood.
“Are you certain one of us shouldn’t come with you?” Segolayne asked, her attention shifting back to Rìan.
“I can handle the Eidra.”
I bristled. The dismissive certainty in his voice made it sound as though I were no more dangerous than a fruit fly, but I held my tongue.
“The Court of Flames has been dealt with?”
Veylan tilted his head. “No suspicion, as far as I know. Calantha replies promptly to Aedric’s messages.”
I blinked, outrage flaring through me. Veylan had been writing to Calantha as Aedric?
I supposed it made sense. If she’d suspected anything, she would’ve already stormed into Noctharis in search of her High Lord.
“She believes he’s working alongside Levinica to unravel her vision.”
At the mention of Levinica, a heavy silence settled over the dock. No one spoke. Not even the sea was loud enough to fill the hush.
Rìan rolled his shoulders and straightened. “Do what you must. What you deem necessary to protect the Dusklands until I return.” Segolayne and Veylan nodded as one.
A dark shape brushed against my ankles.
Titter Mouse.
He let out a pitiful mew, and I bent to stroke him. No purr came. He only pressed his head into my palm, clinging to the contact.
My throat burned. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His wide, mournful stare pierced straight through me. Slowly, sadly, he unwound himself from my legs. His tail hung low as he padded toward Rìan, who crouched at once and reached out a hand.
The kitten froze, every hair along his body standing on end. He backed up a pace and snarled, a low, vicious sound as he arched his back. With a final hiss, he bolted, vanishing between two abandoned buildings. Whatever tentative truce had existed between him and Rìan had apparently been forgotten.
Rìan lowered his hand, watching after the kitten. As he rose, the folds of his cloak parted, revealing the pale gleam of an ivory hilt nestled among the many blades at his waist.
My bone knife.
“Feed the cat,” Rìan said stiffly. Segolayne grunted her reluctant assent.
Rìan stepped smoothly off the dock and into the small boat, which bumped softly against the pilings. He held out a hand.
“Come.”
Grinding my teeth at the command, I slipped my hand into his. His fingers closed firmly around mine, his palm warm against my freezing skin. I climbed awkwardly into the sloop, and the moment my feet were planted, I pulled my hand away.
I dropped onto the bench at the bow, pulling my cloak tighter, trying to trap what little warmth remained. Rìan settled himself down and took up the oars while Veylan untied the moorings. Segolayne braced a boot against the side and shoved us farther into the water.
“Rìan.”
His hooded head tilted up.
“Send word.” Segolayne managed a strained smile. “When you find him. We’re ready for some good news.”
Dannis.
I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands.
Rìan gave a single nod.
The skiff rocked treacherously as he pulled us away from the dock and out into the restless waters of Half Moon Bay. Noctharis slowly receded behind us, its dark cliffs and weathered towers dissolving into the gloom.
I watched until the city became little more than a haze against the horizon.
And I prayed to the Seven with everything I had that it would be the last time I ever laid eyes on it.