CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE ISI
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
ISI
The flight seemed to take forever. Exhaustion had settled on my bones like boulders.
My head throbbed where the wound had finally scabbed over.
Trew’s healing magic, unfortunately, only worked a bit on others, though he’d tried numerous times to help me.
Every beat of Lakast’s wings made my skull throb.
Pherin huddled against my neck, her tiny body trembling with fatigue. Even she was flagging, and companions rarely showed weakness.
“We need to rest soon,” Coralee called over the wind, her voice hoarse. “I’m worried I’ll doze and fall off my dragon.”
Trew’s arm tightened around my waist. “There’s a ridge ahead. We’ll land there and assess our position. We can’t stay long.”
The word carried the weight we all felt. Today was the Day of Mercy. We’d lost too much time.
The sky lightened gradually, oozing blood-red on the horizon. Lakast swooped up over a low mountain range, and the world opened ahead of us.
My mind faltered and all I could do was gape.
An army marched across the valley, thousands of soldiers in neat formation, their armor catching the early light.
Supply wagons extended behind them for cleks, pulled by teams of horses that kicked up dust in their wake.
Banners in my father’s colors, the blue and white of Caldrith, snapped in the wind.
We quickly banked the dragons to the right, spiking down the other side of the mountain range, hoping we hadn’t been seen. No one was shouting or pointing, but that didn’t prove we’d escaped detection.
“Fates preserve us,” Maddox breathed from his dragon nearby.
“I expected something like this after the way we…departed,” Trew said. “Five thousand soldiers, maybe more. They’re force-marching south.”
“Toward Syllavar,” I said, though I didn’t need to say it. “And they left before the Day of Mercy.” My father must be planning to join them after.
While this was expected, the scale of the advance still stole my words. This wasn’t just an army, it was annihilation given form. Endless rows of armored soldiers, siege equipment that could level castles, supply trains stretching to the horizon.
My father had committed everything to this war.
“He plans to erase Syllavar from existence,” I whispered, my throat tight with horror. “Not just defeat it. Destroy it so completely that no trace remains.”
Trew’s jaw clenched as he studied the formations below. “Those aren’t just soldiers. Look at the banners. He’s pulled troops from every province. I bet they left the borders completely undefended.”
Because they knew their only threat lay in the south.
“At this pace, they’ll reach Syllavar in days,” Trew said, his voice tight with controlled fury.
“We have to complete the rescue, return to help prepare defenses to meet their early advance, and somehow seal the veil before they arrive.” He paused.
“And meet Lexie, Derren, and Kerralyn on schedule.”
The impossibility of it all pressed down on me hard.
Trew guided Lakast closer to Malcolm’s dragon. “I want you to return to Syllavar immediately.”
The other man’s face showed no surprise. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Tell Grayson to accelerate the war preparations. Reach out to every border patrol and every scattered unit. Tell them to send who they can. Fortify the main approaches and prepare civilians for a siege.” Trew’s jaw set. “You’re needed there more than here.”
“The rescue team will be smaller,” Naveah said, her companion peering at us with anxious eyes. “More vulnerable.”
“It can’t be helped.” Malcolm was already turning his dragon. “I’ll fly straight through. They’ll have warning.”
His dragon’s wings beat hard as he raced back toward Syllavar. He disappeared into the distance, taking one more layer of our security with him.
We flew to the left, which would put us closer to Caldrith Castle but remain out of the army’s sight, and after we’d soared over another mountain range, we landed in a sheltered area. Gavelle and Pherin shifted to their larger forms and curled together in a protective circle around us.
Trew’s face showed the same fatigue I felt all the way to my bones. “We can rest an hour at most, but then we’ll have to leave for Caldrith.”
I looked down at my hands, which were still stained with the dirt of the wasteland and the weight of the first practice sword Thorne had placed in my grip when I was barely a teen.
I remembered one evening in the castle’s practice yard when the sun had dipped as low as it was now, and I’d been nearly crying with frustration over a parry I couldn’t master.
Thorne hadn’t let me quit, but he hadn’t scolded me either. He’d simply stood there, as patient as the stone of the castle, his scarred hands steady on his own hilt.
“You aren’t fighting the steel, Princess,” he’d said, his voice a low gravel that always made me feel like I was more than just a decorative object.
“You’re fighting the fear that tells you that you aren’t enough.
A king can take your titles, but he can’t take your reach if you refuse to shorten it. ”
I looked out at the horizon where the thousands of flickering torches of my father’s army marked the valley below, an ocean of soldiers led by the man who’d tried to drown my spirit for sixteen years.
Thorne had died so that I could stand here, unmasked and unafraid.
As the wind whistled through the boulders, the weight of the coming battle stopped feeling like a burden I had to carry alone and started feeling like the final lesson he had prepared me for.
I pulled out the map and spread it across a flat rock. The others gathered close, and I traced our route to Caldrith Castle.
“We’ll leave the dragons here,” I said. “We can ride our companions, but they’ll have to shift back before we’re close. We can’t risk them being seen.”
“Agreed.” Naveah studied the route with a sharp eye.
“I have a new plan,” I said. It had been brewing inside me all night.
They all looked at me.
I explained quickly, my fingertip moving across the castle floor plan, pointing out guard rotations I’d memorized during my years living there, weak points in the castle’s defenses, and the timing we’d need to make everything work.
When I finished, silence stretched across the small open area.
“That’s insane,” Maddox said flatly. “You’re going to walk in there alone."
“It’s brilliant,” Coralee said with a grin. “Risky, but brilliant.”
Trew’s golden eyes burned into mine. “It’s too dangerous.”
I gave him the look that said I’d already made my decision, and he could either support me or get out of my way.
He pinched his eyes closed. When he opened them again, the resignation there nearly broke my heart. “If this doesn’t work…”
“I’ll make it work.”
“While you’re doing that, Naveah and I will destroy the west tower and collect food from the kitchen,” Coralee said. “We’ll hide it with our companions.”
“And if you’re captured?” Trew asked me.
“Then you’ll complete the mission without me.” I held his gaze. “Twenty-three lives, Trew, instead of one. That’s what matters.”
“You matter,” I growled. “I hear what you’re actually saying and I need you to hear me. You matter.”
Pherin grumbled, her copper eyes fixed on me.
“If she’s captured,” Maddox said, “we’ll adapt. We could create a distraction. Extract her during the chaos.”
“No heroic rescues,” I warned him.
His mouth quirked. “Look who’s talking.”
We went over the idea while the sun climbed higher. What if guards blocked our route? What if the prisoners were too weak to move quickly or some resisted being rescued? They may not all be eager to leave with us. I’d seen enough zealots during my life.
What if my father discovered us before we could execute the plan?
For every disaster we imagined, we created a response. It wouldn’t be enough. Plans never survived contact with reality. But it was something.
Finally, Trew nodded. “Alright. We move now.”
We climbed onto our companions and kept to the woods, making our way toward the outer aspect of the village below Caldrith Castle, where the Day of Mercy would be held.
We paused behind a long row of bushes in front of a copse of trees, watching the outer road leading toward the village.
Only a few people passed. Most would’ve left earlier to make sure they had a good spot to view the event.
“This is it,” Coralee said as she slid off her companion. Her ermine had become an enormous winter bear, all white fur, claws, and razor teeth. “Next time we see them, we’ll have prisoners with us or we’ll be dead.”
“Let’s aim for the first option,” Naveah said dryly.
I climbed off Pherin’s back, and she shifted back into a minxpip, soaring up into the branches above to wait with Gavelle.
“Be safe, Minx,” Trew said, stroking my cheek with his knuckles. “Please.”
“You too. I—”
Bells started ringing in the distance.
The elders would soon be pouring ashwine.
Within a short time, I walked alone through the outer part of town, keeping to the less-used streets and with the hood of my cape up to hide my face from view.
The castle rose ahead, towers piercing the sky. I’d spent my whole life feeling secure within those walls, and now I was sneaking back inside like a thief. Because that’s what I was. A thief stealing lives my father had claimed for execution.
Slowing as I neared the outer walls, I watched for guards. But the ramparts stood empty. Everyone had either been sent with the army or they’d left for the ceremony. My father was crazy not to leave anyone to watch for intruders.
No, actually, he was arrogant, assuming no one would dare intrude.
I ran to the small postern gate I’d used countless times during training with Commander Thorne. My hands found the hidden catch, and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges.
Someone shouted, and I slipped down behind a cluster of bushes, freezing when three guards raced by on the path. Once they’d rounded a bend, I ran all the way to the servant’s entrance on the back of the castle.
I slipped inside and remained motionless in the shadows, listening but not hearing anyone near.
The castle’s interior corridors stretched empty ahead of me, and my footsteps echoed on familiar stone as I ran. Torches burned in their sconces, but if there were guards patrolling, I didn’t see or hear them—so far.
The bells continued their mournful song, calling the faithful to witness my court’s version of mercy as I took the back stairs, breathing heavy, my every sense alert for sounds of discovery.
On my floor, I hurried down the hall and eased open the door to my sitting room.
One of my ladies-in-waiting stood by the window, her back to me. She must’ve heard me breathing because she spun around.
“Princess!” Joy flooded her face. “There you are. Your father will be so pleased. I suspected you’d return in time.” She waved toward my bedroom. “Come. I’ll help you get ready.”
I followed her into my room, and she opened the closet door.
The gown hung in the back, covered with silky cloth to protect it, while the mask waited in a box on the shelf above.
She carefully brought them out, placing them on the bed. “You’re just in time to witness Mae performing her duty in the village square.”
Ice flooded my veins. “What duty?”
Her smile widened. “She’s drinking the ashwine today, giving herself and her magic to restore her family’s honor.” She clasped her hands together. “It’s so brave of her. The whole court will witness her sacrifice.”
The world tilted beneath my feet.
Mae had no magic. I’d swear it on my life. She’d served my mother and I, and never once shown the slightest hint of being able to use power.
But my father knew I loved her. He knew she’d supported me and grieved with me over the years.
This was punishment for my defiance.
Mae, who’d held me when I was scared after my mother died. The woman who’d never once asked me for anything. She’d now pay the price for everything I’d done.
The bells rang louder.
And I was almost out of time.