Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Aurelia
In the graying light of dawn, I stood at the base of the foothills and watched Keres, Daegel, Vanya, and Lesha until they were nothing more than a speck on the horizon.
After three days, we’d finally made it to the Autumn border.
This morning, we said goodbye to the others and sent them on their way back across the Broadlands to Frithhold.
Lesha would be safe there. And, gods willing, Keres would find a way to heal the wounds on her body—and maybe even the wounds on her soul.
Leif stepped up next to Eirnan, jaw clenched, his hair still singed at the ends from where my furyfire had gotten too close. “We’ll bring as many as we can,” he said. “Just… don’t do anything reckless before we get there, all right?”
Slade snorted. “When have we ever been reckless?”
Leif’s mouth twitched—not quite a smile. More a grim acknowledgment that he had no doubt we would indeed be reckless before it was all over.
They weren’t happy about splitting up, but we all understood what was at stake. Slade could carry only so many with him before it drained him dry. And if we had any hope of reaching Grey Oak before the wedding, we had no time to lose.
Eirnan leaned heavily on the crutch Daegel had made for him, but his voice was steady as he made his goodbye. “We’ll spread word along the road.”
“Carefully,” I added. “Do not bring trouble or attention to yourselves.”
“We have many friends along this route,” he assured me. “And there are still Autumn fae who will fight for their own freedom if asked.” His gaze held mine. “They’ll fight for you.”
“I’m not their queen,” I said quietly.
“No,” he agreed. “But you’re fighting for them anyway.”
I swallowed. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Leif shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… don’t die. I’m tired of losing friends.”
Friend. The word hit harder than I expected.
I hugged them both—Eirnan stiff but accepting, Leif clumsy and bright-eyed—and then Slade set his hand on my shoulder.
Thorne pressed in, a hand on Slade’s shoulder, and murmured a low warning at me to “get ready.”
And the world vanished.
Shadow-walking wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t like slipping through darkness or drifting like mist. It felt like being yanked through a crack in the world by something with claws. A cold rush, a stomach-lurching drop, a dizziness that made me scramble to know which way was up.
Now I understood why Thorne hadn’t looked thrilled by the idea.
Slade exhaled sharply as the world blinked back into place—gray sky, tall pines, the tang of damp moss.
“Halfway,” he said, already breathing harder than he wanted me to notice.
Halfway? That was it?
Thorne steadied me. “You good?”
I nodded, though my head was spinning. “You?”
“I’ve had worse,” he said. “Being burned by furyfire, for example.”
I snorted.
Slade flexed his fingers. Shadow leaked between them like smoke.
“You okay?” Thorne asked him.
“Just taking in the sights,” Slade drawled.
He grabbed our arms again, shadows swallowed the world, and we lurched into another clearing. My stomach roiled, but I clamped down on the nausea, shut my eyes, and let the world shift to greet us.
By the third jump—shorter, rougher—Slade’s knees buckled, and he dropped to all fours.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Unless you want my corpse as a travel companion.”
Thorne handed him a flask. “Tempting. But I think I’ll pass. You’d stink, and I’m not carrying you.”
Slade took the flask and drank.
When we’d all regained our balance, we set off on foot through the trees, the leaves drifting down in gold spirals. The air smelled like pine and early frost, and every mile closer to the palace felt like time slipping through my hands.
The others felt it too. Our steps were too quick. Our breaths too sharp.
Slade finally broke the silence.
“So… question.”
“Seven Hels,” Thorne muttered. “Here we go.”
He ignored Thorne and nudged me. “Why the theatrics? Why bother with a wedding? If Heliconia wants Autumn, she could just kill Callan and take it.”
“I wondered the same,” I admitted.
Thorne answered first, voice low. “Maybe the throne won’t unlock for her if she takes it through assassination.”
I frowned, ignoring my own discomfort at the word. Technically, out of the pair of us, I was the assassin of kings—not her. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Thrones are imbued with old magic gifted by the gods. And don’t the gods all love their rules? The kind you don’t break so much as work around.”
“And marrying the king counts as working around?” Slade asked skeptically.
“If she’s queen,” Thorne said, “she sits beside him. Or on the throne when he’s away. Maybe that’s all she needs.”
“Or,” Slade said, “maybe Callan’s harder to kill than we gave the brat credit for.”
That made my throat tighten unexpectedly.
He was a brat. Spoiled, arrogant, manipulative. But he’d helped me. And he’d tried—tried not to be his father. Tried to stand between Heliconia and his throne.
More importantly, Heliconia didn’t waste time on preserving a life if taking it was an option.
“Maybe,” I said softly, “she needs him alive.”
Slade’s expression shifted—not joking now. “For what purpose?”
I shrugged. “The throne’s magic. The courts’ recognition of her as queen. Who knows?”
“Maybe she wants the wedding night experience,” Slade said, and Thorne groaned.
“I’d rather not imagine that scenario, if you don’t mind.”
I couldn’t help but make a face of disgust. “Agreed,” I muttered.
“And if she gets the throne’s power for herself?” Slade asked, serious again.
“Then Autumn falls,” I said quietly. “And she moves on to the next throne.”
A shiver ran through me.
The more thrones she drained, the more unstoppable she’d become.
My fingers brushed the rune at my throat. Tender. Sore. As if something ancient inside me had clawed to the surface that day. As if it wouldn’t be buried any longer.
Thorne must have seen something in my face. “You’re not alone in this.”
I breathed slowly, trying desperately not to think about how Rydian wasn’t here. Or that I had no idea where he was. Or if he was okay. “Feels like it sometimes.”
“You’re not,” Slade said quietly. “Keres, Daegel, Eirnan, Lesha. Rydian. Us. You’ve got more people than you think.”
It helped, those words. More than I expected.
We camped for an hour under a dense cluster of pine boughs while Slade regained his strength. Somehow, I managed to doze off. Boots rustling jolted me awake. Slade stood over me, Thorne beside him.
“Ready?” Slade asked.
I nodded and let him pull me to my feet.
Thorne rolled his shoulders. “Let’s go save your ex.”
Slade grinned. “And ruin a wedding—again.”
“And stop an unstoppable queen,” I added.
“And not die,” Thorne finished dryly.
Small goals.
Slade took our arms again.
Shadows surged.
The world folded.
We stepped out into the world again near the edge of the forest. And there, through the trees, stood the walls of Grey Oak. Tall. Weathered. And wrong. Ice veined the stones like frostbite, creeping outward from the highest tower like a beacon. A thin layer of snow coated rooftops.
My stomach hollowed.
“She’s already here,” I whispered.
Slade wiped his nose—blood streaking his thumb. “That’s it for shadow-walking. I’m done.”
Thorne scanned the tree line. “Her soldiers are patrolling the roads. We need a place to lie low.”
“What about the townhouse?” I asked.
The two of them exchange a look. “We’ll need to make sure she isn’t recognized. But you and I should be safe enough,” Slade said.
Thorne nodded. “We’ll have to take the river path and come up from behind. Less visible.”
The river path.
The last time I’d been on that path, it had been to attempt escape.
Rydian had caught me. I’d been angry enough to blast him with my furyfire.
He’d been immune to it then. But not to me.
It had been the same night he’d come to my room through the secret passage.
We’d shared a bed, and I’d officially lost my heart.
It had belonged to him ever since.
I forced the thought down before it could unravel me.
Focus. Survive. Stop Heliconia.
We crept closer through the underbrush, moving slowly so we wouldn’t crunch dry leaves. My furyfire thrummed beneath my skin, but I didn’t let even a spark escape.
Not here.
Not now.
The closer we moved, the more wrong the air felt. Heavy. Chilled. A kind of cold that didn’t come from any season.
Heliconia’s power was inside those walls.
For the first time since the valley, I felt something sharp and dangerous settle in my chest. Not fury. Not fear.
Resolve.
“I’m stopping that wedding,” I said.
Slade cracked a wicked grin. “Well, you have experience with that.”
“Let’s hope, this time,” Thorne said, “you don’t burn the whole palace down.”
My mark pulsed once—almost offended.
I squared my shoulders.
“Let’s go,” I said. “We don’t have time to lose.”
Because somewhere beyond those icy walls, a prince of Autumn was about to give away his throne. And somewhere beneath a river far behind me, the man I loved was fighting his way back to me.
I wouldn’t let either of them down.
Not tonight.
Not ever.