Chapter 6
Feather Light
Iwalked beside Endymion through the familiar hallway now painted with the soft pink hues of sunset.
Floating orbs of firelight flitted on the sides, casting shadows that deepened the second’s already sharp features.
As I gazed up in search of the first stars, I was surprised to find Varos’ pale blue-green surface claiming the shifting sky, unable to recall the last time I’d witnessed Lumnara’s first moon, the sight so rare.
A prickle of sadness tugged at me as I recalled Eithan getting annoyed when I’d let my blade dull.
“And not on Varos’ time, now,” he’d chide, then wink as he held out a sharpening block.
Before, the sight of Varos brought a sense of comfort.
Now, its dual crescent form didn’t quite belong in this realm.
Or perhaps this was its realm of choice, and the fates in their cruel humor had placed it here to remind me that familiarity was a comfort no longer extended to me.
“What is it?” Endymion asked, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. I realized then that I’d stopped walking.
“Varos,” I said, indicating the moon without shifting my focus, “do you see him often here?”
“Yes. It’s Kaleatia that hides herself more often from us.”
“And Fenorryn?” I asked after the third moon.
“In equal measure to the human realm.”
“Hum.”
I stared up for a few more heartbeats reconciling that information.
“Thank you,” I said, and he tilted his head in my direction, brow creased.
“For what?”
“Bringing Luca here.”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment but didn’t respond as he shifted his focus forward again, and in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel confounded by him as we walked in silence.
Before Eithan left, I would have said I was a decent judge of character. But after the king, I knew I could never make that claim again, and while I recognized my own failing in this regard, I stared at Endymion’s profile at a complete loss.
He was contrary in so many ways, and I wondered if it was his court, his temperament, or if the kindness he showed me was merely a commander’s strategy to gain an asset—the spark.
He’d knowingly given up his power in the human realm to find me first, but then proceeded to disobey a direct order.
And although he’d explained his motives for not bringing me to Wymond, I had a hard time believing his intent was purely altruistic.
But he’d shared the burden of my dream without a second thought and made sure to shield me from the pain we both knew he felt.
Then again, he’d been cruel with his words to me in this very hall only to shrug it off as if it were nothing.
Had he wanted me to unleash my power on him?
Is that why he’d taunted me? Maybe he’d done it to test my powers, and I’d unwittingly given him exactly what he wanted.
Damn— what if he’d offered to step into my dream so he could mine for information that served his agenda?
Was it possible I was paranoid, looking for missteps and plotting when there were none?
If that was the case, then I’d be remiss to forget the times when I’d seen him, the real Endymion.
The one I suspected he kept locked down.
He couldn’t fake the vulnerability he’d shown when confirming the residence adjacent to mine was his—or how we’d stripped each other bare with our words and silent understandings on that dancefloor.
And what about our—
The floor beneath me wobbled, and my steps staggered like someone spilling out of a tavern in the wee hours of the night. Lightheaded, I reached out to grab for Endymion and missed, falling from the effort.
He was at my side in a flash, the movement so fast it made my head spin.
“Nyleeria, what is it?”
“It’s nothing. I’m okay,” I lied and made to stand up, only for the room to spin twofold, forcing me to abandon the effort.
“What’s wrong?” His tone was demanding, like he needed to know who his enemy was.
“Give me a second,” I murmured, and pressed my hands hard against my temples.
The ground still moved below me, and I felt like an acorn bobbing on the waves, but as I got used to the sensation, my powers stretched outward, waiting for permission to search for the source of the disturbance.
I obliged its request.
It cast out in every direction before quickly narrowing down on the source of its curiosity. While I couldn’t see with my eyes, a picture formed in my mind with strings of energy, and I was surprised at my ability to interpret exactly what it had found before receding back.
Still disoriented, I looked up at Endymion, who was vibrating with the need to act. “The wards,” I said, “they’re being rebuilt by a woman of mixed heritage, is that correct?”
He didn’t answer at first, taking a moment to look me over, and I couldn’t tell if it was out of curiosity, scrutiny, or if he was choosing his words. “She’s of Summer and Autumn, and yes.”
I shuddered, uncomfortable with how accurately I’d known the truth.
“The wards clicking back into place,” he said. “You didn’t just sense it—you felt it.” His words were more statement than question, and I mulled it over.
“Yes, but it wasn’t an internal feeling. It was as if Lumnara herself was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.”
“Like a plate shift?” he asked.
I nodded. Growing up in the Nettorian Mountains, I was no stranger to quakes. “Yes, albeit magnitudes stronger than I’ve ever experienced before.”
His brows furrowed, scrutiny sharpening.
“What is it?” I asked.
A flicker of something unreadable passed over his features before he said, “Is it better now?”
Not missing him deftly avoid the question, I narrowed my eyes.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He stood and held his hand out. “Best we get to dinner before Artton comes to collect us.”
Despite myself, a ghost of a smile played on my lips picturing the fae stumbling in on us—me on the ground, Endymion towering over me, arm outstretched. I could only imagine what ridiculous comment he’d undoubtedly throw Endymion’s way.
Even though dinner was an intimate affair, I’d excused myself as soon as I could without causing a fuss.
It was all too much—the low thrum of conversation, the scented spices mingling with wine, a thousand notes of Summer’s presence singing in dissonance.
It was overwhelming, and I needed air, space, solitude—or possibly something I couldn’t name.
Endymion had stood offering to walk me back to my residence, but I was craving solitude, so I politely declined.
I also wanted to test my boundaries. The Summer Court was a promised safe haven, but at what cost?
There was always someone by my side, other than when I slept, and even then, it was possible someone was stationed at the doors.
Finally finding my way to the gardens, I walked down a half-moon, milky-white staircase that seemed to glitter from the last vestiges of dusk’s light. I wondered then if the exterior staircases had always held that detail, one lost on human sight.
In the distance to my right, a high whinny split the night, and my heart fluttered a fraction before I bolted toward the stables.
The instant I saw Luca in a stall, a soft sob escaped me as an overwhelming relief washed over me.
“Luca,” I breathed. Releasing the latch, I stepped in, rose to my tiptoes, and wrapped my arms as far as they could reach around his sturdy neck.
He nuzzled in for a long moment before lifting his head and snorting. Wiping tears from my eyes, I stepped in front of him and rubbed his muzzle.
“Hey you,” I said, my words broken.
He closed his eyes and pressed harder against my hand.
“I’m here.” I soothed.
His nostrils flared, and he breathed the scent of me in deeply as if sensing something was different. I blew lightly in his direction, and he breathed it in before letting out a few short puffs, then settled again as if to say, “Yes, it’s still you.”
“Shall we go for a ride?” I said, and he gave me a like you have to ask chuff in a mixture of indignant approval only Luca could achieve.
Chuckling, I poked my head out of the stall looking for his tack and found it neatly hung to the side—along with my rucksack.
Three strides later, I clumsily unfastened it and peeked in to find it untouched.
I wrapped my arms around the rough canvas and bowed my head, allowing a moment to feel its realness against my chest.
In a life where I’d had little, I’d somehow managed to lose it all. Even Eithan’s dagger was gone, lost in my futile defense against the na’li. So, I clutched onto what remained.
Luca’s clopping hooves echoed as he came to check in on me. Realizing I was fine, he nudged me hard enough that I had to step forward to catch my balance.
Chuckling, I slipped the rucksack on as I faced him, then tapped him on the nose. “That’s enough out of you.”
He snorted and looked toward his tack—and the container of treats next to it.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
He huffed and gave me his most innocent look.
“Yes, you,” I said, stepping past him. I grabbed a handful of treats, shoving most of them in my pocket, then held one up as ransom. “And don’t even pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
His ears shifted back as he stubbornly stared me down. Putting one hand on my hip, I drew the treat back a fraction, letting him know that he wasn’t the only stubborn one in this barn, and I currently held the power.
When he realized I wouldn’t relent, his ears swiveled back in mock innocence a fraction before he lunged for the treat box.
“Luca!” I yelped and grabbed the box away just before he closed his mouth around it. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He chuffed and heeled the ground.
“Absolutely not. You can wait until I damn well feel like giving you a treat. Stars, I can’t imagine you tried this shit with Tarrin.”
Tarrin’s name on my lips stole away the levity, and the horror in my friend’s eyes as Nevander slashed his throat flashed in my mind. It was just a dream. I reminded myself. Tarrin is okay. I’m okay. It was just a dream.
Those words repeated themselves in my mind like the cadence of a soldier’s march—steady and relentless—as I absentmindedly gave Luca the damn treat and tacked him in silence.
He must have sensed the shift in me, as he didn’t test me with his usual antics.
Mounted, I stared across the foreign landscape now lit only by moonlight, knowing I had no idea where I was going or what I’d find.
A bitter scoff escaped me as the sentiment from earlier echoed in my mind, and I knew in that moment—with more clarity than I possess on anything else—that familiarity and comfort were long-lost companions.
A strange peace settled over me as that truth seeped into my marrow, and I understood then that if these things no longer existed for me, I no longer had the luxury of informed decisions. No, only blind choices awaited me. Which was freeing in a way.
Smiling, I gripped the reins, leaned over, and whispered, “Let’s go.”
Luca didn’t hesitate before he unleashed the full might of his body, both of us delighting in the freedom.
Blissfully, nothing else existed as Luca found his stride.
With the sound of hooves digging into the lush land beneath us and my hair whipping in the wind, I released the reins, closed my eyes, and put my arms to the side, letting myself fly.
Each stride lightened my burdens until they were a mere feather that flitted away into the night. A choked laugh escaped me as happiness filled my heart; a genuine warmth I feared I’d never feel again.
We reveled in the tiny sliver of peace we’d found, both content to hold it as long as we could.
Eventually he slowed, pulling me back to reality as he fell into a trot before stopping, breaths heavy. We’d come to the end of the open valley, forcing us to choose between trudging through an unfamiliar forest in the dead of night, or turn back.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a treat for Luca. “Here,” I said and reached over, arm fully stretched.
Luca craned his neck, greedily took my offering, and then gave me a side-eye as if saying, “That’s it?”
“Fine.” I chuckled and obliged his request—two more times.
“Well,” I said, patting the side of his neck before sitting back in the saddle.
“What do you think, Luca? You up for some completely irresponsible, one hundred percent irrational, could probably wait until daylight, but I don’t want to, exploration of a strange forest in a strange realm with no weapons or backup? ”
He swung his head back, and I could have sworn he looked at my pocket, sizing up how many treats remained.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What—you’re not even a little curious?”
He looked ahead, then back, staring at the pocket again before he snorted.
“Atta boy,” I said and slid him another treat before prompting him forward. “Man, Tarrin and Eithan would have both our hides for this decision.”
Luca’s tail flicked, and for a moment, I thought he might change his mind. But then, with a step toward reckless curiosity, he took us into the unknown.