CHAPTER FORTY-NINE ISI
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ISI
Addie led us into a parlor that felt more like an embrace than a room.
Worn velvet cushions on elegant frames spoke of a place designed for comfort rather than appearances.
A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light across the polished tables.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through lace curtains, turning dust motes into dancing stars.
I couldn’t stop touching my sister. I traced my fingertips along her wrist, her arm, her shoulder, reassuring myself she was real and not a dream. We settled on a settee, our knees pressed together, our hands clasped so tightly our knuckles whitened.
Trew took the large chair nearest to my side, close enough that I could reach him if need be. He’d placed himself between the door and us, a shield against whatever might come. Lexie, Derren, and Kerralyn arranged themselves in chairs nearby, completing our protective circle.
Pherin perched on my shoulder while Gavelle settled on Trew’s. The other companions hovered near their people, alert despite the apparent safety of this sanctuary.
“You’re different,” Addie said, her fingers tracing a scar on my forearm I’d gotten during the Rite. “Harder.” Her gaze flicked to Trew, then back to me. “But happier.”
“So much has happened.” My voice caught. “A large bird dropped your mutilated body in the middle of the Day of Mercy ball. When the bird disappeared by magic, Father shouted you’d been murdered by Syllavar rebels.”
Addie’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I found your pendant around the person’s neck.” My swallow took a long time to go down. “I went to Syllavar Court to find your killer.”
“And found him instead,” Addie said, nodding toward Trew with only a ghost of her old mischievous smile.
Heat crept up my neck. “I stabbed him, actually.”
“Of course you did.” She squeezed my hand. “Nothing shouts romantic interest like attempted murder.”
Trew’s low chuckle rippled through me like warm honey. “She swears it was an accident. I maintain she planned it.”
I told her about everything. Addie listened with growing wonder, squeezing my hand tighter when I described the torture chamber in the west tower.
“Commander Thorne’s first letter led me back to Caldrith,” I said. “He told me you were alive, imprisoned in the dungeon.” I touched her face, still marveling that she breathed. “But when I searched, you weren’t there.”
“Someone took me to the tower.” She shuddered. “Commander Thorne rescued me. He killed two guards and carried me out when I couldn’t walk.”
The parlor door opened and the commander stepped through the threshold, looking both older and exactly the same, the scar across his chest more pronounced, his eyes infinitely wearier. He froze when he saw me.
“Isi,” he breathed.
I rose and rushed over to him. His arms wrapped around me, and he held me close. He smelled of leather and steel and safety, the scent of my childhood training sessions when he taught me to survive in a world that was determined to either kill me or make me compliant.
He drew back to examine me, his calloused hands gripping my shoulders. Pride and relief warred on his face. “Look at you. A true warrior now.”
“Thanks to you.” My voice trembled. “You taught me everything I needed to survive.”
“No.” His eyes crinkled. “I taught you foundations. You built something remarkable on them.” His gaze flicked over the blades at my hips and the way I stood balanced on the balls of my feet, ready for anything. “I knew you’d find the clues I left behind. You’re clever.”
A throat cleared behind us. Trew stood nearby, his golden eyes watchful but not hostile. The two men assessed each other across the small space, each finding something in the other that must’ve satisfied some unspoken standard, because both spines relaxed.
“King Trewyn.” Thorne inclined his head. “Thank you for protecting Isi.”
“She protects herself quite efficiently.” Trew’s hand found the small of my back as I eased to his side. “I merely provided an occasional sword and several dragons.”
Thorne’s lips twitched. “I’m sure that’s all it was.”
Addie watched this exchange with knowing eyes, her amusement tinged with exhaustion. “I never thought I’d see my sister with the rebel king.”
“Or you with his cousin. I hear you bonded with a drake.”
“I sure did.” Her eyes gleamed.
As if summoned, her small, silvery companion flew in through the open parlor door, landing on a perch stationed near the edge of the room. His scales gleamed like polished mirrors, reflecting firelight in patterns across the walls. When he fixed his gaze on me, smoke curled from his nostrils.
The message in those ancient eyes was unmistakable. Try to harm Addie, and you’ll be ash before your next heartbeat.
I nodded, acknowledging the warning. The same protectiveness surged through me every time someone approached Trew with anything but a friendly demeanor.
Pherin fluffed herself up, tripling in size despite remaining tiny, and launched from my shoulder to hover between me and the drake. Her voice rang in my mind. Mine. Hurt mine? Die.
The drake lowered his gaze first, making a chirping sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Pherin returned to my shoulder, vibrating with satisfaction.
“It appears our companions have reached an understanding,” Addie said, her voice fond but strained.
Tremors ran through her hands, subtle, but constant. Bruise-like shadows ringed her eyes, and her gaze periodically went unfocused as if she was seeing something beyond our realm. Her fingers appeared to flicker, becoming briefly translucent before solidifying again.
“You’ve been crossing the veil,” I said quietly.
“Not by choice.” She took a steady breath. “He discovered what Mother could do. What I could do.”
“By he, you mean our father?”
She frowned, and her head tilted as if she was gazing inward. “I…” Her eyes cleared. “He discovered what I could do. What our mother could do. They turned me into a pack animal, moving supplies from one location to another. Skathes too.” A shudder ripped through her.
I swallowed and met Trew’s gaze. Why couldn’t she confirm or deny our father’s involvement?
“He discovered you could open doors between realms and locations,” I said. The ability I also may have inherited.
She nodded, wincing as if the movement hurt. “He made me open what he called pathways. Again and again, until my body started to unravel.”
“I’ll fetch tea and something to eat while you talk?” Thorne asked. At our nods, he dipped forward in a small bow and left the room, closing the door behind him.
I returned to sit beside my sister, taking her hand and holding tight, as if that would keep her from slipping through the veil and never returning.
Trew sat beside me in the chair, his forearms braced on his knees. “How did you discover the breach?”
Addie’s gaze went distant, her fingers tightening around mine.
Then she blinked, and when she refocused, her voice steadied.
“The disguises Trew created for us were perfect. We looked like Skathes and moved like them. We even smelled like them.” She glanced at Trew.
“Your magic is remarkable. We infiltrated their camp and spent days gathering information. Learning their patterns, their hierarchy.”
“But something changed,” Trew said, his voice steady but his eyes sharp.
“I felt a pull.” Addie’s hand went to her chest. “Like a thread wrapped around my ribs, tugging me deeper into the wasteland. I tried to ignore it, but the sensation grew stronger each day.”
I leaned forward. “What kind of pull?”
“Irresistible. Like my blood recognized something out there and demanded I find it.” Her eyes found mine. “Fenmark didn’t want me to follow it. He said we should return to Syllavar with what we’d learned. But I couldn’t hold myself back.”
Lexie shifted in her chair, Levar adjusting his position on her shoulder. “What did you find?”
“A clearing deeper in Skathe territory. And in the center…” Addie paused, her breathing becoming shallow. “A tear in reality. The breach in the veil.”
I quickly told her about our grandfather’s writings, about how he’d documented his ability to travel between realms and the terrible cost it exacted.
“His journal revealed more after I found it,” I said. “New text appeared. He wrote about accidentally tearing the veil when he forced his way through. About teaching his daughter to walk between realms.” I squeezed her hand. “That daughter was our mother. Velacross was her father, our grandfather.”
Addie’s eyes widened, then filled with tears. “That’s why Mother always seemed to know things she shouldn’t. Why she could be in one room and then appear in another without anyone seeing her move.”
“She was a traveler,” I said softly. “And she passed that ability to us.”
“To you too?” Addie’s gaze searched my face. “You can also see the weave?”
“I don’t know if I can travel, but I can see wards. Unravel them. Break through magical barriers that shouldn’t be passable.” I pulled out the pendant from beneath my tunic, letting it catch the firelight. The crescent moon glowed softly, the pale blue stones matching our eyes.
Addie stared at the pendant, her hand rising. “May I?”
I lifted it over my head and placed it in her palm. She traced the engraving on the back with trembling fingers. “To my fierce star. Shine bright. Mother always wore it.”
“Father gave it to her.”
She looked up at me. “This wasn’t a gift from Father.”
My breath froze in my lungs. “What?”
The fire crackled in the hearth. A tree branch brushed against a window. I heard every small sound in the silence that followed.
“Mother once told me when I was young and asked about it. She said it came from her father.” Addie’s eyes blazed. “She said he gave it to her before he left, to keep her safe when he couldn’t. And they used it against me. I think the pendant helped guide me close to the veil.”
My chest constricted. “You could see it?”