Chapter 46
Reyla
“Will you hold court today, my queen, my king?” Lord Briscalar asked when he joined us for breakfast the next morning.
Faelith had taken Farris outside to play, and they’d recently returned. While Faelith was tidying our bedroom and bathing area, Calista was puttering around the sitting room, straightening this and that. Doing almost nothing to hide that she was listening to our conversation.
I nearly smiled at how obvious she was being.
“We’ll hold court in a few days.” Lore took a bite of a horig cake, groaning with his eyes closing as he chewed.
When his eyelids opened, he cocked an eyebrow at my frown.
“Nowhere near as good as yours, my pretty bride. In fact,” he laid it back on his plate, “I find I can’t eat any but the ones you make for me. ”
That lifted my mood.
The lord went through his plans for Lore’s birthday celebration, but I only half-listened. I kept running through all the possible clues I’d more or less discovered, trying to see if any might actually tell me what to do.
I ran through the three riddles from Ember’s Shadow, plus all the other bits people had spit out then stared off into the distance as if they’d said nothing at all.
My head was spinning with all the fragments of information. I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to make sense of it all.
“Can you think of anything else we might need, my queen?” Lord Briscalar asked, his twinkling eyes telling me he knew very well I wasn’t listening.
“Don’t forget to include Farris in the celebration,” I said, just to see how the lord would respond. I could do more than one thing at a time.
My pet sat beside my chair at the table by the window, his snout resting on my thigh as if he was utterly devoted to me. He was, to some extent, but I suspected he was equally devoted to the slices of rusher lying on my plate.
Leaning back in his chair, the lord gave me a doting smile that held only a hint of tease. “You’re so right, my queen. Such a delightful idea. Should we dress him to match the theme?”
What was the theme?
“Would Farris enjoy that?”
Lore snorted.
“Well, I’d initially thought of the theme, ‘The Very Serious…’” While he rattled on, I thought about the riddles, only resurfacing when the lord spoke again. “Do you believe Farris would be willing to participate in that?”
“Oh, um, yes, I’m sure he would.” The fates knew what I was committing my pet to. “We could hold the party in the ballroom.”
“That was my thought as well, my queen.” Lord Briscalar ate a bite of horig cake and chewed, swallowing. He directed his pen and paper to take a few more notes before he sat back in his chair and studied them both. “You look well. Yet you also look strained.”
“We’re worried about the curse. We only have one more day,” I said.
He stared forward blankly. “Please don’t fret about this.
One day is plenty of time to sure this party is the best any court has ever seen.
” His eyes drifted to the wall behind me.
“One hand only may turn the key, who bears the shadow and the sea. Speak not of what you long to see, but ask where the beginning be.”
His focus returned to his plate, and he picked up his horig cake and took another bite.
I met Lore’s gaze. Does that relate to fusing the talismans?
“Tell me more,” he said to Lord Briscalar.
“More about your party?” The lord grinned.
“Oh, my king, it will be glorious. I’ve worked with the sprites.
Did I tell you that? They’ve agreed to provide lighting.
And let us not forget all the sumptuous dishes our very own Chef Dulvade plans to craft in your honor.
” He went off on a tangent about the magical decorations.
He won’t or can’t say more, I said.
Another clue or an odd rambling?
Let’s finish eating, send him on his way, and then we can talk about what he said.
I glanced at Calista, but she was staring into the fireplace, seemingly not listening.
Or, if she had been, her mind had blanked along with Lord Briscalar’s.
Once they’re gone, we can plot how we’ll fuse the talismans.
Hopefully the third can give us the most vital clue.
Agreed.
We finished, then sent everyone away.
We waited until even the sound of Calista’s footsteps faded.
Only then did I move, sweeping a few books from the low table in front of the sofa and setting them aside so we could work. Lore followed, his expression tight. So much was at stake, and we didn’t have much time.
I pulled the talismans out of my pocket, secure in a soft pouch, and untied the top, tugging each out gently.
When I laid them out on the table, they looked entirely unremarkable. A blue-stoned key. A circular filigree gold pendant with a red gem. And the featherdorn no bigger than the end of my thumb, fragile and glowing in the morning light, its wings twitching.
Lore sat beside me on the sofa, his broad hand resting on the cushion, his body angled toward the table.
Farris leaped off the sofa, his nose twitching, and his gaze on the talismans. He didn’t touch them, but circled around the table as if inspecting them, his puffy tail shifting in a slow rhythm. When he stopped, he sat and laid his snout on the table beside the featherdorn. He released a soft huff.
Lore’s brows drew together. “That can’t be random.”
I glanced from the featherdorn to Farris, whose eyes remained fixed on it, unblinking. “Are you trying to tell us something, little one?”
His tail thumped on the floor before stilling.
“Maybe,” I said. “But what?”
Lore shrugged. “He’ll find a way.”
Alright, then.
“Essence,” I said, touching the key. “Devotion.” I moved my fingers to the pendant with the blood-red gem.
“Dominion.” I touched the featherdorn last. I retrieved my pen and paper, the one that transcribed whatever I willed, laying them on the table near the talismans.
“Write our talisman analysis, please.” The quill twitched, then began to write in smooth, looping ink at the top of the page.
“If we can understand what the traits represent, we might gain insight in how to fuse them.”
Lore sat back, resting his arm on the sofa behind me. “Essence. Evergorne. This court has long prized wisdom, inner strength, and reflection. The key was hidden beneath the throne room. It took our love and caring for each other to reveal it.”
“‘Seek within to find the parts of yourself that are missing,’” I said. “That was Justifar’s first prophecy, at my coronation. Perhaps Essence is tied to self.”
“To the soul,” he said softly. “The essence of who someone is. Identity, truth, the raw materials of the self before anything else gets added. That’s how I see Evergorne. Us.”
“I wasn’t born here.”
“You’re Evergorne and Evergorne is you.”
Perhaps.
“Every lesson begins with ‘know thyself.’” I lifted the second talisman, the golden pendant with the red gem. “Halendor. Devotion. King Tallin forgot that devotion would control the labyrinth, but I imagine he’s learning now.”
“Devotion is an emotional weight, which ties into our love.” He laid his hand on my thigh, squeezed it.
“Perhaps before the three were split by the curse, Halendor was the court of loyalty, sacrifice, and protection. The labyrinth was supposed to provide balance, but he corrupted it. Isodine’s diary said blood kept the artifact intact.
Devotion might not just be about love, it could be about binding, the kind that can’t be broken without consequence. ”
Lore tilted his head. “That’s what broke the artifact in the first place. Devotion used to control rather than protect.”
I exhaled, my breath stirring the wings of the featherdorn. “Dominion. Irridain.”
“Dominion sounds like control. Leadership. Rule.”
I nodded, but slowly. “But the featherdorn grants wishes. It doesn’t follow orders. I don’t believe it’s tied to tyranny. It’s guidance. Permission, maybe. Or will.”
He narrowed his eyes, considering. “Maybe Dominion isn’t about power over others. Maybe it’s about agency. Power over one’s own fate.”
The quill scratched rapidly over the page, recording every word.
“‘You seek a forge, but what you need is a mirror,’” I whispered, remembering what Justifar said last night. “They’re not just magical objects. They could be mirrors, reflecting something inside us. Essence shows us who we are. Devotion shows what we’re willing to suffer for.”
“And Dominion shows us how we choose to act on that knowledge.”
I sat back, folding my legs beneath me on the sofa. “Prager split the original artifact. It’s a device older than her bloodline, one that was fused by…grief and love?”
He ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “And now we’re meant to fuse it again. How? With a spell or fire or blood?”
“With understanding?” I asked.
“Or surrender.”
I paused, looking up at him. “Surrender to what?”
He met my gaze. “To each other. To what we fear most. Whatever we love most is also the thing that could break us.”
I swallowed hard. The red gem in the pendant gleamed like a fresh wound.
He stared at the three talismans. “Justifar said, ‘Pour yourself into it. Bind not them, but what they represent.’ Maybe we’re not fusing artifacts. Maybe we’re fusing what they ask of us.”
Farris barked from where he sat on the floor by the table. He stared at us with that eerie stillness of his, his eyes gleaming in the light. With a huff, he padded into our bedroom, returning with Ember’s Shadow, of all things, dropping it onto the floor by my feet.
“No bedtime stories in there,” Lore said with a low laugh.
“This book gives when it feels I need it most.” I lifted it and laid it on my lap, flipping through it, pausing as ink scrolled across the page, reading aloud.
“Where dragon tears fell into the sea, the tide remembers.” The words disappeared, and when I pawed through the book again, I found nothing but blank pages.
Sighing, I glanced toward Lore. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged
“Too many clues without any way to link them together,” I growled.
He cradled my face. Kissed the tip of my nose. “We will find a way.”
Except his death was looming closer all the time.
I laid the book on the table.
“Essence asks us to accept ourselves, fully,” Lore said. “Devotion asks us to make a vow freely, not by force. And Dominion asks us to act on that vow without fear.”
We sat in silence. Only the pen still whispered over the page before it stilled as well.
“Lord Briscalar’s words,” I said. “‘One hand only may turn the key, who bears the shadow and the sea. Speak not of what you long to see, but ask where the beginning be.’ What do we think he meant?”
Lore’s brow furrowed. “One hand only could mean only one of us can use the featherdorn’s wish, which makes sense. One wish, one of us.”
I nodded slowly. “We should decide what the wish will be. I assume we can’t wish for the curse to be broken.”
“If someone could, they would’ve done so by now. Remember, even nullification can’t end an Era’s Spell.”
Which Prager had cast.
“What good is a wish if we can’t ask for what we want?”
“I assume like all magic, we’ll have to find a way to manipulate this into it giving us what we need.” He frowned. “The sea and the shadow. I don’t know what that means.”
“I can call shadows and ask them to do things for me. Not sure what that has to do with the sea.” I lifted a small smile. “Except you, who took to the sea from the time you were small. So which of us asks and what should they wish for?”
“You should ask.”
I blinked at him.
He met my gaze without hesitation. “I was broken in ways I didn’t believe could be mended. Torn in two, and still you saw something worth saving. You didn’t just love the pieces, you called me back to myself. If I have any peace now, any wholeness, it’s because of you.”
I started to shake my head, but he leaned closer.
“You’ve seen all of me, and you didn’t look away. Not once. That’s why I trust you to ask. You won’t wish for something reckless or selfish. You’ll ask the question we most need the answer to.”
My throat tightened.
His voice dropped off. “If only one person should make the wish, I want it to be you.”
Alright. So what should I ask?
“As for fusing them, let’s pretend we know where to begin,” he said.
“And offer a choice,” I whispered. “I don’t think we want a magical binding without consent. Aricor stole Prager’s choice.” My eyes blurred. Leaning forward, I touched the talismans one by one, finding them warm.
My fingers drifted back toward the featherdorn, hovering above it.
“The riddles from Ember’s Shadow,” I said, “have been gnawing at me. Each one feels separate, but they all point to something broken that wants mending. Something that needs us to choose carefully—”
Lore’s gaze sharpened. “—and feel carefully.”
I nodded. “The first one warned of choices. Joy’s path. Sorrow’s gate. The danger of being ensnared by magic. Of hearts stolen before we even knew we wanted them.”
“Sounds familiar,” Lore muttered, but his voice held no humor.
“The second spoke of a golden ring. A cusp between dark and light.” I looked toward the pendant on the table, but my thoughts stayed with the featherdorn. “It said to unite earth and air, but the featherdorn feels like sky, not earth.”
“And the third,” Lore said, “was about twin-born hearts. A bond cast under moonlight, rivers, betrayal. That one’s about what we’re dealing with here, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “And something older. A binding done in blood and flame. With… dragons? Remember the drawings on the altar beneath the throne room. They all showed dragons.”
Lore exhaled. “The talismans could be connected in some way to the bond.”
“That’s what I think too. And then there’s what Ember’s Shadow just revealed. ‘Where dragon tears fell into the sea, the tide remembers.’ “
Lore sat back on the sofa. “It sounds like a place, but it also sounds like memory. Emotion. Water holds both.”
“So does blood,” I said. “So do the talismans. Maybe this isn’t about unlocking doors with keys. Maybe it’s about unlocking us. Or what’s been lost in the lines of our blood.”
“You could be right.” He tapped the featherdorn pendant. “This may reveal the key to it all.”
If so, I needed to choose my wish wisely because I only had one. Messing it up… Well, I wasn’t going to think about that. I was going to do this, fix this, save him.
Or I was going to die along with him.
Easing closer, he stroked my back. “What if the only way to fuse them is to love without fear? That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it? You loved me when no one else ever could, and you did so with your fearless heart.”
I snuggled into his shoulder, putting my arms around him. “If we need to fuse them with our fearless love, then that’s what we’ll do.”