Epilogue
ZADOK
SIX MONTHS LATER
“I t has been fifteen days since his last letter,” I mused from my position at the window, my fingers tapping on the sill as I stared out onto the gardens, my son’s apricot tree blossoming under the noonday sun. “Do you think something has happened? Should we?—”
Strong, familiar arms snaked around my waist, soothing my imminent panic. I still chewed my bottom lip, but the solid chest against my back and the kiss on my nape definitely helped. “You said it yourself, you would know if anything happened to him. Your magic is connected now, yes?”
I nodded. Flick was right, of course. Luca and I shared a bond through our magic. It would alert me if his life force had depleted. I didn’t want to entertain that thought, but I couldn’t help worrying for him.
The missives came regularly. Every two weeks, to the day. My son seemed as fond of routine as I was, and never wavered in his three-page-long narrations of his goings on. That was why it struck me as odd that no communication had arrived yesterday. Or this morning.
Perhaps the courier was delayed? There could be trees obstructing the road… except there hadn’t been a storm in months, so that wasn’t likely. I hadn’t noticed anything amiss on my walk that morning, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t?—
“Zad…” Flick sing-songed, as if it wasn’t the first time he’d called my name. I blinked out of my trance, eyes watering a little as he guided me to face him with a gentle nudge on my waist. He gave me an encouraging smile. “He’ll be alright. Considering how similar you are, he’s probably found a new topic of interest and has gotten absorbed. A letter will come.”
I studied his soft expression, letting his words sink in before I nodded once again. He spread his arms, wordlessly offering an embrace, and I accepted without pause, leaning down and resting my chin on his shoulder. My eyes closed as I inhaled his scent, basking in the feel of his hands stroking my sides, comforting me in the ways only he knew how. Being in his arms, surrounded by the sensation of home never failed to have the tension draining from my body. It was cathartic, a safe space that held no judgment, and it allowed me to think rationally.
Luca would be fine. He was resilient, clever, and if the updates on his magic’s progress were anything to go by, he was powerful too. There would be no complication he couldn’t resolve, and whatever was keeping him occupied now would be no different. I just had to be?—
Knock, knock, knock.
My eyes flew open, my breath catching. I lunged backward, gaze swinging toward the door, and Flick had to swerve just to avoid a horn to the eye—wouldn’t have been the first time. I winced. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “It’s alright.”
I waited as he answered the door, my eagerness buzzing under my skin, making me restless. Flick thanked our visitor, and I rocked onto the balls of my feet, trying to catch a glimpse of their exchange. When he finally turned, I saw the letter in his hand. The same blood-red envelope that would arrive every fortnight.
My heart skipped.
“What did I tell you, starlight?” he teased, waving the envelope. I reached out for it, but he snatched it back playfully. “No kiss for the messenger?”
I hummed. “You’re right. I’m sure if I run, I can catch him at the gate.”
Flick stared at me for a beat, making my throat suddenly a little dry, before sucking his teeth and shrugging in feigned nonchalance. “Well, if that’s gonna be your attitude, guess I’ll keep hold of this, since you don’t want to pay the handling fee.”
I rolled my eyes and brought my mouth to his, savoring his hum of contentment and the pressure of his tusks against my lips. He tasted sweet, like he’d been raiding the pantry again. I withdrew, my eyebrow cocked. “Have you eaten all my jam tarts?”
His gaze flicked to the side then back again. “No.”
I scoffed and plucked the letter from between his fingers. For a moment, I just held it, tracing the messy cursive on the front with my gaze. It was addressed to me as it always was, but I knew it would include a greeting for Flick too. Anticipation got the better of me—no surprise there—so in a rush, I flipped the letter over and peeled off the seal, removing the contents.
My brow furrowed at the single page that came free. I even shook out the envelope in case the rest was trapped inside. There was nothing else, and what concerned me even more was the lack of words written in simple script in the center when I unfolded the note.
It simply read: Dad, we need you.
The implication of the words settled over me, realization dawning.
A war was brewing. I’d known it from his earlier letters only days after he’d gone through the tear, but this was the rallying cry. The king had kidnapped a human, had devised an entire plot to defame his own son, provoke the leaders of Edenglas, and bring the humans to his side. It was madness, and I had known it was only a matter of time before I received this call to action. I had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon, that it would resolve itself before getting this far, but I knew the king would not stand down. If Luca and the others had foiled his plans as they’d set out to do, Naeron would be enraged.
The thought of facing him again filled me with dread, but my son needed me. I could not afford to falter or hesitate, not even for a second. I hadn’t been able to fight for his mother, or myself, but I would fight for him.
With everything I had.
“What is it?” Flick asked, his tone laced with unease. I glanced up from the page, squaring my shoulders as if it would grant me the courage needed for what was to come.
“It’s time.”