Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Rydian
We moved through the forest as the light bled out of the sky.
Callan kept up a steady stream of low-grade complaining—about the lack of horses, about the quality of our nonexistent food, about the injustice of his current wardrobe.
Aurelia humored him with the occasional jab.
I ignored them both and focused on the path only I could see.
The Emerald Forest wasn’t just trees and dirt. It was layers—old roads buried under roots, streams diverted and remade by shifting magic, pockets of wild sorcery that didn’t care whose banner flew on which castle.
The Spring Court had wrapped its camp in some of that wildness. I’d felt it when I’d woken there after Nali’s naiad had pulled me from the river—half-conscious, half-drowned, more shadow than flesh.
We walked until my legs started to feel the weight of the last few days—a battle, a wedding crash, a god-summoning, almost dying—and then kept walking anyway. The moon slid lower between the branches. Shadows grew thicker. The Emerald Forest wrapped around us like a living thing.
In the deepest dark of the night, Callan’s stomach growled—again. When no one answered it, he made a disgusted noise. “Remind me again why I didn’t go north with Slade to meet my own army?”
“Because Heliconia will look there first to find you,” Aurelia said way more nicely than I would have.
Callan was not mollified. “This whole arrangement is deeply offensive.”
“If you have enough energy to complain, you have enough energy to keep moving,” I told him.
He scowled but did as I said.
Brat. I had no sympathy for him.
Heliconia was out there, sitting on the throne of her stolen court and dreaming of the god-magic imbued into that throne. She’d turn the realm upside-down for Callan. And if that didn’t work, she’d set her sights on the next victim.
We had one shot to convince Spring not to be next.
I didn’t care how badly that goal inconvenienced Callan.
By the time the first gray hint of dawn brushed the horizon, Aurelia was swaying on her feet. Callan’s steps had lost their kingly swagger. Even my shadows dragged a little.
It hit me then—the exhaustion I’d been outrunning.
Not just in my muscles. In my bones. In the place beneath my ribs where the Furiosity rune burned low and steady, like banked coals waiting for a gust of wind.
I pressed my palm flat over it.
“Not today,” I muttered.
The god who’d branded me didn’t answer. He rarely did unless I forced him to.
I thought of the throne room. Of the moment Aurelia had gone to her knees, ice and death creeping over her skin. Of the sound her breath had made when Heliconia had started to siphon her power.
I’d moved before I’d thought.
Shadows, teeth, rage. The rest was blood and instinct.
Now, in the quiet of the dark woods, the memory crawled under my skin in a different way.
She could have died.
If I’d been one breath slower.
If the naiad hadn’t dragged me from the river. If Talthis hadn’t agreed to shelter me. If I hadn’t gone to Ire, if he hadn’t defied the rules of his treaty and told me what I’d needed to know about the thrones, about Aurelia’s location.
Too many ifs.
I was done with ifs.
And I was done staying away from her.
We pushed deeper. The air cooled. The sounds of the forest changed—less underbrush rustle, more distant, crystalline notes like someone plucking glass strings.
We walked another twenty minutes before I felt it—the faint hum along my spine, the way the shadows around us sharpened, not mine this time but something older.
“Stop,” I said.
Aurelia halted immediately. Callan did not. He took one more step, opened his mouth to say something snide, and ran headfirst into an invisible wall.
He bounced off it with a curse, stumbling backwards. “What in—”
“Ward line,” I said. “I’ve been looking for it. Congratulations. You found it with your face.”
Aurelia’s mouth twitching told me she’d appreciated that more than she was letting on.
The forest went very still.
Not quiet. Just… listening.
Callan scowled but dropped his hand pointedly away from his dagger.
I stepped forward alone, stopping just shy of the unseen barrier, and let my shadows slip ahead. They touched the ward—recognizing the taste of it from before—and eased a thin opening.
“Rydian?” Aurelia murmured.
“We’re here,” I said.
Leaves rustled overhead. A soft, melodic whistle cut through the air, as if someone had plucked a note out of the breeze itself.
Then figures stepped out of the trees.
Spring guards, two of them, in green-and-gold leathers that seemed to grow from their bodies rather than be strapped onto them. Bows drawn, arrows nocked, aimed at our chests.
“Identify yourselves,” the taller one said.
Aurelia looked at me uncertainly.
I nodded at her to go ahead.
“Aurelia Valeen, heir to the Summer Court,” Aurelia called out.
The shorter guard’s eyes widened. She lowered her bow.
“And the rest?” the taller one asked.
“Rydian of Midnight,” I said.
The guard’s eyes narrowed. Not at me.
“And him?” he asked, gesturing with his chin toward Callan.
My half-brother straightened instinctively, like his body couldn’t help responding to being challenged.
“His Majesty King Callan of the Autumn Court,” he said coolly.
The guards exchanged a look. Their magic rippled, conferring in a way words didn’t. Finally, the shorter one lifted two fingers to her lips and let out a high, trilling whistle.
A minute passed.
Then the forest shifted.
Branches bent aside of their own accord. Roots drew back, revealing a faint path lit by a glow that came from nowhere obvious. The scent of jasmine thickened in the air.
Talthis stepped out of the green.
The Spring emissary looked fresh considering he was camped in the forest—braided hair threaded with new leaves, armor polished, eyes too knowing for someone who smiled as much as he did.
He wasn’t smiling now.
“Talthis,” Aurelia said.
“Aurelia.” His gaze swept over her as he cut a short bow. “This is unexpected. We received word you were headed for Grey Oak.”
His gaze flicked to me, his frown evident.
“We’ve just come from there,” Aurelia told him. “Heliconia has taken control of the court.”
“Yes, we felt the surge yesterday from here. Frost and… something older.” His eyes flicked to me and lingered. “I see you survived it.”
“Disappointed?” I asked.
“The opposite,” he said mildly. “Come. We’ll talk at camp.”
The camp was just as hidden as before, half-grown, half-built. Tents stitched from living leaves. Platforms nestled in the branches above, vines woven into ladders. Lanterns glowed from high in the canopy. The ground itself felt softer underfoot, like a mossy rug, cozy and welcoming.
Spring soldiers watched us as we passed—bows lowered but not put away, hands near blades, expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
One young woman near the center whispered Aurelia’s name. I couldn’t tell if it sounded more like a prayer or a curse. More than a few glared outright at Callan.
Talthis led us into a large tent where a low table had been set up, maps spread across its surface. A couple of his advisors followed us inside but remained silent near the tent wall. Nali was nowhere to be found.
Talthis turned, crossing his arms.
“All right,” he said. “Tell me why Heliconia’s curse bearer and Autumn’s runaway king are standing in my camp.”
I glanced at Aurelia.
She lifted her chin and spoke, laying out the facts with that calm, steady voice I’d come to recognize as the one she used when the ground was falling out from under her.
The war camp. The Frostwights. The valley burning. Lesha. The thrones. The wedding. Heliconia trying to use a marriage to take the throne’s power for herself. Callan yielding his court to save his people.
By the time she finished, Talthis’ expression was troubled.
He exhaled. “And you’re certain,” he said slowly, “that what she took from Concordia’s throne could be taken from ours as well.”
“Yes,” Aurelia said.
I stepped in before he could argue. “She’s not guessing,” I said. “Whatever the gods left in that throne, Heliconia stole it. And now she wants more.”
His gaze sharpened. “And you know this how?”
“Because I spoke with a Furiosity before I left this camp,” I told him quietly. “And he confirmed it.”
I could feel Aurelia’s gaze burning into me, not to mention Callan’s, but I didn’t let myself look. Instead, I held the Spring fae’s gaze while he studied me, considering it all.
“Assuming all of this is true…” Talthis rubbed his jawline thoughtfully.
“It is,” I cut in.
He ignored me. “My queen is cautious. We protect our borders. Our people. Our throne. We do not go courting trouble.”
“If you don’t go to her,” Aurelia said, “she’ll come to you. That isn’t a threat. It’s just where the path leads once she fails to retrieve Callan.”
Talthis stared at her a moment, then tilted his head. “And what exactly are you offering, besides warnings and doom, if my queen chooses to involve herself?”
I bit back a snarl at that. He was a diplomat, I reminded myself. He couldn’t help it. Everything was a trade to him. A gain and a loss.
“An alliance,” Aurelia said.
“With what army?” he asked, blunt now. “Summer is cursed and out of reach. Autumn has just lost its king but gained a usurping queen. Midnight is… whatever Midnight is these days.” His eyes flicked between us. “You are three fugitives with no army and no allies.”
Heat crawled up my spine. Not anger. Something colder. Sharper. And then the words were out before I could decide if it was wise to utter them.
“Three fugitives we may be,” I said. “But we are also three crowns.”
Talthis frowned. “I count two; am I wrong?”
Aurelia shot me a frantic look. She knew what I was about to do. Callan, on the other hand, stiffened at my side.
I met the emissary’s gaze head-on.
“I am the son of King Duron of Autumn—and Queen Cadira of Midnight,” I said. “Rightful heir to the Onyx Throne. And I pledge the full force of my armies to this fight.”
Silence fell like a stone.
Talthis stared at me. Then at Aurelia. Then at Callan.
Callan’s expression closed so fast it might’ve shattered something behind his eyes. “You’re joking,” he said flatly.
“I speak the truth,” I told him.
“When,” he asked, voice dropping, “were you planning to mention that little detail? Before or after we all spent our lifetime thinking we knew you at all?”
“I told Aurelia,” I said. Not apologetic. Just honest.
“You told her,” he said. “But not your own brother.”
I met his anger without flinching. The old guilt was there, yes—but it had teeth now. I’d lived too long with secrets carved into my bones to pretend they hadn’t kept me alive. That I wouldn’t do it all again the same way. For the people who needed me.
“Duron cared only for the power he could gain from me,” I said quietly. “Telling you would’ve painted a target on your back long before you were ready to see it.”
He laughed once, harsh and humorless. “Don’t act like you did this for me. If you had, you would have brought your army to fight with mine to keep Heliconia from getting as far as she did. Instead, you continue to protect your own kind while mine suffer.”
“Enough,” Aurelia said.
We both looked at her.
“This isn’t about who should’ve told whom,” she said. “The only thing that matters is this: Heliconia wants to drain every throne in this realm and remake herself into something we won’t be able to kill. If we keep arguing, she’ll get what she wants.”
She turned back to Talthis. “You asked what you’d be getting,” she said.
“The answer is three courts who will stand with you when she comes for your throne. Summer, Autumn, Midnight. Autumn’s army is gathering now under a shared banner between Callan and me.
” Callan huffed but didn’t argue it, though I was sure it pained him.
“They will march where we send them and fight bravely.”
“And Midnight?” Callan pressed. “Will they march for anyone but themselves?”
“Yes,” Aurelia said gravely before I could offer up any kind of answer. She met my gaze steadily. “Soon,” she said, echoing my promise to her.
And I knew I would not be able to stop her from trying to open the gates. Not for much longer. The danger be damned.
Talthis studied her. Then studied me again, like my confession had rewritten some equation in his head.
“I will take this to my queen,” he said.
He wasn’t promising anything. But it was more than we’d had when we walked in.
“She doesn’t have to pledge troops,” Aurelia said. “Not yet. Just guard her throne. Use whatever magic she has to make sure Heliconia can’t get near it. If that means closing borders, do it.”
“And if it means painting a target on our backs because we chose a side?” Talthis asked softly.
“You already have a target,” I said. “You just can’t see it from inside your walls. Concordia didn’t think they’d fall either. Ask them how that went.”
Finally, he inclined his head. “You have given us much to think about. It will take some time for me to hear her answer, but you are welcome to remain while we wait for word.”
“We’re not staying,” I said. “We’re headed northeast.”
His gaze flicked to the mark on Aurelia’s throat, then back to mine. “To your court?”
“Until we know where we stand,” I said.
Talthis dipped his head.
“Thank you,” Aurelia told him.
He gave her a long look. “You’re different than you were when we last met,” he said quietly. “Your power has grown. I can feel it in the air.”
“I am becoming more myself,” she told him.
“Indeed.” He glanced between us. “You’re all welcome to take rest and refreshment before you depart.”
“We could use both,” she said.
Callan looked visibly relieved though he actively avoided looking at me as the guards led us to tents of our own.
I didn’t bother trying to speak to him again.
Not when exhaustion left me without any words that would have changed things between us now.
Instead, I slipped into the tent beside Aurelia’s, shucked off my boots, and slept hard enough to forget this world.