Chapter 20
MERAK
The moment I reach the clouds, a blast of energy nearly knocks me out of the sky. Gasping, I try to catch my breath and right myself. Where did the blast come from? Why can’t I see the shadow creature now?
A dark form appears in my peripheral vision, but when I turn, there is nothing there. This keeps happening again and again, and eventually the creature’s dark laughter reaches me, an eerie sound that joins with the howling wind.
Holy Fires. I should have known. I always sensed my parents were keeping secrets from me, always thought there was something about the black frost they knew but wouldn’t reveal.
No matter how many times I asked them, they claimed it was a mysterious occurrence that no one could explain.
And the remaining servants claimed the same thing when I questioned them, though I suppose my father probably glamoured them to keep certain secrets.
I glance down at the small clearing, searching for a glimpse of Gwen’s dark hair or her blue cloak, but the snow-dusted branches are in the way. Gods. I hated leaving her there. But I cannot hold her in my arms as I fight the shadow creature. I cannot risk any harm coming to her.
Holding out my palm, I allow dark winter magic to gather, the sort of magic that my people don’t use. Not anymore. Not since the two original fae courts, the Unseelie and the Seelie courts, fell into ruin many millennia ago. It’s magic that my father taught me in secret.
I call upon this power now, allowing the darkness to course through my veins as I search the sky for the shadow creature.
What is its name? If I knew its name, I could more easily defeat it.
Another reason my parents should have told me everything—just in case the shadow creature one day escaped its icy tomb.
As the creature emerges to my left, I beat my wings faster and turn just in time to send a wave of dark blue death toward it, a stream of glimmering energy that I cannot truly claim to understand.
I only know how to summon it when I must. It’s a skill I’ve only used when fighting groups of human or orc soldiers on my own.
I’ve never used it during battle, not wanting others to know the true depths of my power.
The dark blue magic strikes the creature head-on.
For one triumphant heartbeat, I think I have won.
Then the shadow explodes apart into a thousand writhing tendrils.
I jerk backward in the sky, narrowly avoiding a black strand that lashes toward my face. It whips through the air beside me with a sickening hiss. The creature laughs again, and the sound comes from everywhere. Above me. Below me. Inside my mind.
Panic claws through me. Not for myself, but for Gwen. Through the bond, I sense her fear, but also her faith. Her faith in me. Even now, she believes I will return to her. She’s sending me warmth and encouragement. Even though she’s terrified, she is thinking more about me than herself.
Gods, I love her. I truly do.
And I will return to her.
I will make sure we both survive this.
But… how?
All the tendrils of black suddenly circle together in the sky, and the shadow creature takes shape again, floating in front of me wearing a sinister smile.
I feel Gwen reaching for me again, not physically, but with her soul.
Merak. She says my name over and over, softly but urgently, as though murmuring a prayer.
Somehow, I know she is clutching the key on her necklace, and somehow, it causes strength to flood me…
power that is stronger, and even darker, than I have ever commanded.
Dark clouds roll across the sky, the wind blows harder, and the snow falls harder. It’s nearly a blizzard. It’s almost as strong as the storms King Theron can summon.
The shadow creature twists and screams as though my magic is harming it. As though the storm is tearing it apart.
I keep going. I keep calling for the dark magic my father taught me, pummeling the creature with the force of it, and beckoning the snowstorm to become a near white-out.
I think of Gwen in the forest below, and I send her a wave of affection. Curl up within your cloak, I tell her through the bond. Keep your hood pulled tight. I will end this as soon as I can.
Yes, my mate. I will, she says into my mind. Though the cold isn’t really bothering me. I can’t explain it… but it’s not even making me shiver.
Realization dawns. The storm is a part of me, and that is why Gwen can tolerate it. Because we are mates. Because we are destined to belong to one another.
The shadow creature tries to send deadly waves of energy into me, but I dodge each lash of darkness. It continues twisting and screeching. Howling, too. The storm is tearing it apart.
And somewhere deep inside me, long-buried power rises.
I stop beating my wings, yet I remain suspended in the sky.
I hover in place, watching as the creature comes closer.
It opens its terrible mouth, revealing rows of sharp but translucent teeth.
It shrieks, lifts a hand, and tries to hurl another wave of deadly energy toward me, the sort of energy it probably commanded with more ease as a dark mage when it was alive.
Still frozen in the sky, hovering in place despite not needing to beat my wings, I hold up both my hands as I stare down the creature.
Gwen’s presence remains strong in my mind, our connection constantly flooded with warmth and encouragement.
I almost wonder if she knows what I mean to do before I even reach a decision.
Before I even feel the strange newness of the power rising within me.
Burning hot yet freezing cold, building and building until…
Dark winter magic explodes from me.
The blizzard intensifies, a complete white-out, and I only know where the shadow creature is because I can sense his depravity. I don’t know how he died before he became a spirit, but I would imagine he had enemies, enemies that eventually conspired to take him out.
As the storm swirls faster, I become more attuned to the shadow creature. I feel its despair, anger, wickedness, and more.
Then I feel it dying.
Fading.
It comes closer as it twists through the air, but I don’t back away or even send another blast of power toward it. It has grown so weak that it’s barely maintaining its form.
It screams as black wisps start drifting away from it. The black wisps disappear into the blizzard, fading from existence.
And then it is gone.
I pull my power back, letting the storm die down, until only soft flurries drift from the sky. Slowly, I turn in a circle as I search for any sign of the shadow creature. But there’s nothing there, and I no longer sense it.
It’s gone. It’s truly gone.
The clouds suddenly part above me, and the sun shines down across the black-frosted landscape.
But why hasn’t the black frost disappeared along with the creature?
Gods, I cannot fathom how far the ruin stretches in all directions.
I flap my wings once, twice, then bolt down toward the forest. Toward Gwen. Her warmth remains a part of me, her mind continually brushing against mine, comforting me, helping to ease the darker part of my nature that I just called upon.
I land in the clearing before her. Our eyes meet, and the affection flowing through the bond deepens. She straightens and lets go of the necklace.
“My dearest.” I step forward, looking her up and down, then take her in my arms, relieved that no harm came to her.
She is alive, and she is whole. We both are. Thank the gods. Thank the fates.
“Merak,” she breathes. “Merak.”
I rest my forehead against hers, panting as I hold her close.
When we finally pull apart, we both take in the devastation, and I sense her worry through the bond. The black frost still hasn’t faded, and like me, she fears how far it stretches.
She gasps when the trees closest to us begin to wither, their branches drooping beneath the covering of black frost, and the glow of ussha is entirely absent.
Suddenly, she reaches for the key on her necklace again.
We exchange a look.
Through the bond, I realize she’s searching her memories. She’s thinking of the day the strange elderly man rushed up to her in the market of Braemar and handed her the necklace, urging her to never take it off. Urging her to keep it for a time when all hope seemed lost.
I draw in a sharp breath as I recall her description of the elderly man.
Wrinkled and very tan like a sailor, but with a polished voice…
and mysterious. The key holds some kind of ancient power.
That much is obvious. Somehow, as she murmured my name while clutching the necklace, I was able to call upon magic I didn’t know I possessed, allowing me to destroy the shadow creature.
“A Fatekeeper,” I say. “The man who gave you that necklace… I think he was a Fatekeeper. Fatekeepers are said to carry keys and even stones that possess great power, though they have a specific purpose and are usually only meant to be used once.”
Fatekeeper. Through the bond, I know she’s never heard the terms before, but she still understands. She knows the elderly man was no ordinary man. He wasn’t human or fae, but something other. Something ancient as the very first stones that were laid in the two original fae courts.
She nods slowly, then yanks the chain off her neck. She turns the key over in her hands, and I step back to give her room. She studies the tarnished pendant and focuses on the notches on the bottom, notches that almost look like… roots.
We exchange another look.
She crouches to the ground and places a hand on the black frost that covers everything.
I join her, watching as she keeps turning the key in her hand.
Her eyes widen. She glances at me and then tries to plunge the key into the ground, but it won’t penetrate the black frost. Somehow, the frost is growing harder, becoming a solid blackness that encases the land.
I instinctively form a fist and bring it down upon the frost, shattering the layer of blackness on the forest floor between us, then I quickly push the debris aside, revealing the grass beneath that is already withering.
Gwen holds the key closer to the ground, and the notches at the bottom transform, twisting as though they are growing into roots. She draws in a quick breath and then plunges the key into the soil, pushing it so deep that it disappears entirely.
Then she rises to her feet and steps back.
I stand and join her, watching the ground.
Waiting. I can’t claim I understand fully, I can’t even claim I know what is about to happen, but I trust that the fates brought Gwen and me together for a reason.
Fated mates are said to complement one another in different ways, and perhaps this is something we were always meant to do together.
The ground shudders, and I sweep Gwen into my arms and grab my rucksack in one quick movement. I launch into the sky, holding her close as we both look at the ground below. Watching. Waiting. Even praying.
“At a time when all hope seems lost,” she whispers as though to herself.
Then it happens.
The ground shudders again, and the warded circle where I left Gwen as I battled the shadow creature suddenly appears green beneath a dusting of white snow. And beneath the snow, the life force of fae magic glimmers brightly. Ussha. It’s still here. Thank the gods.
But the black frost is gone. Simply… vanished.
Gwen’s breath catches in her throat.
I send her a wave of praise through the bond. The black frost is vanishing, I say into her mind. Because of you. Because you knew what needed to be done.
Because she is the young woman who was always fascinated by maps, trade routes, stories of faraway lands, and trinkets from distant places. Because she listened to the frantic, strange words of an elderly man—a Fatekeeper—and didn’t dismiss him as softminded.
I hug her closer, this precious human female who I am proud to call my mate, and nuzzle her nose against mine.
Then we both peer out at the landscape, watching as the black frost continues to vanish.
As it disappears, moving outward in a circle, nothing but snow-dusted greenery glimmering with ussha remains behind.
“It’s gone,” she whispers. “The black frost. It’s truly gone.”
It’s over. Gods. It’s truly over.
Relief rushes through me, and I sense Gwen’s relief through the bond as well. We cling to one another as I hover above the restored landscape.
She shifts in my arms and peers up at me. A tiny smile drifts across her lips, and to my surprise, I detect a hint of mischief flitting through her. But also… longing.
Take me to that lavish inn you told me about, she says through the bond. I want… I want us to consummate the mating bond. I am ready. I want you, Merak. I want to belong to you, and I want you to belong to me. Thousands of years. Together.