Chapter 50
Alora
The room was dead silent, interrupted by a soft meow. All looked at the winged black cat rubbing against Alora’s ankles. The Vareth purred, blinking at her sleepily, yellow eyes churning with stars.
“That thing follows your every step, for the darkness itself sired you,” Delphi said derisively. “A cursed seed planted in your mother’s womb.”
Alora’s heart slammed against her ribs, and she turned instinctively toward Rune.
The look he gave her was not of surprise, but of regret and resignation.
Vorak was more than her creator.
He was her father.
This dark magic answering to her will wasn’t from Rune. It was hers.
“Shall I remove her tongue, my lady?” Calla asked casually, examining her sharp claws, as if to decide which one to use.
Delphi recoiled, glancing at her sister as if to expect her to step in. But Lady Zinnia merely met her gaze indifferently.
It was not her place to interfere.
Rune looked to Alora, as did everyone else in the room. Her stomach tightened, realizing she was in command now.
“Not yet,” Alora said, drawing in a deep breath. The shadows receded, letting in the light and warmth fill the cottage again. “Caelum?”
He stepped forward with a small smile. “Yes, my lady?”
Alora held the fairy’s gaze. “Escort Lady Delphi back to Argyle. She will remain under watch in her chambers until I determine her fate.”
He clanked a fist over his heart.
Delphi stood with an angry hiss. “I am still the queen!”
“Not anymore, Queen Dowager,” Alora smiled tightly. “I will see to the kingdom until Rihan is of age. But I will never allow a traitor to reign over Argyle.”
Caelum took Delphi’s arm, dragging her toward the door.
She yanked against his grasp, hissing. “You may wear that crown, but you have no right to the throne, Alora. The Lords of Argyle will never pay fealty to you, no matter what demons serve you. Not while Laurent’s trueborn son still lives.”
Alora looked at her frightened brother. “Yes… you’re quite right.”
She approached him, and Delphi’s eyes widened, her complexion going pale.
“Do not harm him!”
Alora ignored her. She knelt in front of Rihan and took his hand. “Do you want to be king one day, Rihan?”
He bit his lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. Mother says…”
“Don’t worry about what your mother wants. Are you ready to rule?”
He shook his head.
Alora smiled gently and brushed the hair from his brow. “Ruling a kingdom is a great responsibility, perhaps not one meant for a young boy. The crown is rightfully yours but allow me to carry the burden until you are ready.”
Rihan’s shoulders slumped with relief as she embraced him. “Will I return to Argyle now?”
“If you wish. But you may return here anytime you want.”
He nodded. “Thank you…”
“Rihan, come,” Delphi said stiffly. “Now.”
But he hesitated, worry and uncertainty clear on his face. Alora picked up her familiar and placed him in Rihan’s arms.
“This is Nexus, my guardian. He is a very special cat who will watch over you,” she said, petting the purring Vareth. “If anyone dares to harm you, Nexus will give them a big bite.”
Nexus flicked his tail, giving a short trill as Alora planted him in Rihan’s arms.
“If you need me, he will let me know.”
Rihan smiled finally.
Her brother carried Nexus away and took his mother’s waiting hand.
Caelum escorted them out the door into the dawn and they headed for the Elder Tree beside the cottage.
He had learned how to awaken the portal.
She watched as Caelum set Tanzanite into the bark, spoke a few words, then the center shone with golden light.
It was usually white when she used it.
Lady Zinnia came to stand beside her, watching as they disappeared through the portal. “You showed commendable restraint today. But take heed, Delphi is not one who yields easily.”
Alora sighed. “I know.”
But that would be a matter for another time. She glanced at Rune where he now sat at the table, and sensed there was more to confront today.
A whisper of silk accompanied Zinnia’s rise, the sigh that followed soft but pointed. “By my arrangement with your husband, no more than three demons are allowed within the Midlands, so long as they disguise themselves and remain near the cottage.”
Alora arched an eyebrow at the unexpected leniency. “And what of the Minotaurs? The Midlands must welcome all fae, regardless of their status or beauty.”
Lips thinning, Zinnia inclined her head in a graceful nod, surprising Alora again. “As you wish.” But she stepped close enough to share breath, her voice dropping to a murmur. “The glyphs of the siphoning array were Hellspeech, goddaughter. Perhaps you should search for your enemies much closer.”
Their eyes locked, Zinnia’s gaze sharp with warning.
Then, with a measured step back, her godmother offered a polite smile. “Well, I take my leave.”
Alora blinked, her thoughts tangling with the implication and announcement. “Where are you going?”
“I must return to the manor and prepare our forces. The Midland Army stands with you, Alora. You will need every blade for the battle to come.”
She frowned questioningly, following her to the door. When Zinnia opened it, she at last noticed the sky. It took her a moment to understand. A red slash had torn across the Heavens like the sky itself had been wounded.
Alora’s breath caught. The air tasted wrong. Magic stirred in her blood like something waking. “What is that?”
Zinnia glanced past her shoulder to Rune. “The God of Shadows holds the answer.”
After patting Alora’s arm, she glided down the path toward the waiting carriage.
Bramble, ever dutiful, held the door open as the Thornbearer stepped inside.
With a nimble hop, he scrambled onto the driver’s box and snapped the reins.
The elk let out a sharp bugle, hooves striking the earth.
Then the carriage rolled forward and vanished into the mist.
Alora closed the door, her mind echoing with Lady Zinnia’s warning and the strange spell Eldrik chanted last night.
She turned, catching the last of Calla’s soft words.
“…we have kept the news from the courts, though I suspect the Dominions have already received word. There is no hiding it, sire. All have seen the sky. They know he’s coming.”
Rune gave a slight nod, his jaw tightening.
“Who?” Alora asked. But she already knew.
Rune rubbed his face. “Calla, could you give us a moment?”
The Harbinger bowed and vanished in a plume of smoke.
“Alora…please stay calm.”
She marched past him toward the back window and flung the curtains open. “Calm? How am I to remain calm when the sky is bleeding?”
Rune retreated to the shadowed corner of the cottage, his eyes grim. “I should have known that not even your eyes could be veiled anymore.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded. “What is this? Who tore the sky?”
He exhaled a heavy breath.
“I did.”
Alora gaped at him in shock. The curtains slipped from her fingers and fell back into place, leaving them in shadowed darkness.
Rune rubbed his face, cursing softly under his breath. “Your godmother is right, the siphoning array is dark magic.”
She held her breath.
“I know… for it is a spell from my archives.”
The confession sent her heart into a wild gallop as she stared at Rune. She was hit with a brief memory of last night when he found her, and his uneasy expression when he saw the array.
Her body went cold.
“It’s your spell?” Alora asked shakily. “Why would…have you used it before…?”
He took a sharp breath. “I have. It requires the source’s blood to function, but carving into your flesh was for Eldrik’s own vile enjoyment.
” A muscle flexed in Rune’s jaw as he looked to the fire crackling in the hearth.
“As soon as you slept… I hunted him. So blinded by my wrath, I had not even stopped to think or interrogate him about how he procured the siphoning array.”
But even without answers, the truth was clear.
The Hellstones, the array, the spell used to keep shadows out of the castle—were all signs that someone from Rune’s court had helped Eldrik.
And they could both already guess who.
The bond shook with Rune’s quiet rage, but he took her hands with a gentleness. His fingers lightly traced her wrists, soothing the distant sting where the crystals had burned.
If the Dominions were involved, Deimos fill find out. The prince, however, paid in full for what he did to you.
Alora’s pulse quickened at the darkness in his tone.
“And… what did you do to him?” she dared to ask faintly.
“I took him apart.”
Her stomach rolled.
Rune’s eyes stirred with flame as they looked at her. “Eldrik lived long enough to watch himself be reduced to mere meat and bone yet that had not been enough. I tore out his soul… and destroyed it.”
The severity made Alora sink on the edge of the couch. Her hands shook as she remembered what he had said about the sacredness of a soul. She saw the shadow of regret on Rune’s face as he turned to face the fire.
“My actions begot the Rift in the sky,” he confessed quietly. “It sent a quake through the Realms, and fissures through every plane… down to the depths of the Abyss …” His throat compressed with a swallow. “Where Vorak is kept.”
An awful chill sent a scatter of goosebumps over Alora’s shoulders and her heart went cold. She heard the faint echo of a song as she thought of the Ruins in the Midlands.
“You loosened the lock on his cage…” she whispered.
Rune nodded once, his expression tight.
“How do we fix it?” Alora whispered. “Is there a way to seal the Rift?”
Rune fell silent and she looked over at him, seeing the war in his gaze.
“Do we have no hope at all?”
He looked away to the fire. “Vorak was the Darkness before the first light existed. He’s what comes after death. For as there is a creator, there is also a destroyer. And he is your father.”
Alora’s heart pounded in her chest. “He is coming, isn’t he?”
Rune closed his eyes.
“How long do we have?”
“Until the Blood Moon.”