Chapter 34
Elorie
Meeting with Lady Reah leaves me with more questions than answers and one solemn realization: both realms are dying, and only one can be saved. Half of all living creatures that were bound together by the Collision are going to die.
Maybe I should have accepted that from the start, but hearing it confirmed leaves a heavy weight upon my chest.
When I walk out of the temple, I take a deep breath.
Thankfully, the guards stayed with the king and Selia instead of waiting for me.
Having a moment of space is refreshing, even if I know it’s because there’s nowhere for me to run to escape the peaks of Tempest. Each side of the mountain is a sharp cliff, and the only way to the bottom is to form a Gateway.
I turn right, taking the same path we took to the temple. The snow-covered street is surprisingly warm with magic casting a shell overhead. Even as it snows, most flakes vanish before they reach me.
The snow here isn’t cold sleet like it is back home. It’s flakier. Lighter.
Warmer.
Priestesses walk past, wearing cloaks similar to Lady Reah’s. Their dresses are simpler, but still stunning. Tempest silk instead of lace.
Letia would give her soul for one of these dresses. Fabric that moves with each step like a wave in the ocean. Fluid and mesmerizing. It shines without being iridescent, as if it holds light rather than reflecting it.
The priestesses watch me as they pass, and I bow my head in respect.
“I was wondering when my aunt would let you go.”
I look up to see Greer walking toward me. “Your aunt? That explains why Lady Reah looks so much like Millicent.”
Greer nods, stopping a few paces away. “Reah is the oldest by nearly a thousand years. Millicent and my mother were twins.”
“Were?”
“My mother died in the siege of Tempest a century ago. Both my parents did.” She glances at one of the buildings, and I wonder if she sees something I don’t. The reflection of her memories haunting her.
I’ve read about the rebel siege of Tempest. It marked Vaelier’s first offensive move.
They snuck into the temples in the middle of the night, destroying half the city.
Glancing around, there’s no proof of that fight.
Time and snow have soothed any signs. But I know better than to think physical marks are the extent of the damage.
“I didn’t realize your family was here during the siege.”
Not surprising when it’s rare Greer tells me anything personal.
“It was a long time ago now.” She glances down the path to where voices filter at a distance. “Callum is unpacking the sleep quarters if you were looking for him.”
“I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. Just walking and thinking.”
“That’s not uncommon after meeting with my aunt. Many come to Tempest searching for answers, only to leave with more questions.”
“I can see why.” While I did get some answers, they were given in riddles. What little I understood did nothing to ease my mind.
“So you grew up here?” I ask Greer when she starts walking again.
“I was born in Echme, but my parents moved us to Tempest after King Erdem was relieved of his throne by his son. They knew Vaelier might see the change on our throne as a weakness, and they wanted to help.”
“By coming to the temples?”
We turn a corner, reaching an overlook at the edge of a vertical cliff. From the ledge, the entire valley can be seen below.
“Wars are fought on many fronts.” Greer leans against the ledge.
“When King Erdem fell, Fae flooded King Malachi’s army, itching for the opportunity to battle the creatures of the Well and prove themselves to their new leader.
They hoped the change on the throne meant we were taking a stronger stance on protecting our realm.
I wanted to join as well, but my parents brought me here, where they thought I’d be most useful if war broke. ”
“How would you be more useful at the temples?” My eyebrows pinch.
Clouds part overhead, brightening Greer’s silvery eyes, and I realize they aren’t actually silver at all.
Just like Lady Reah’s aren’t any color in particular, Greer’s shift with the light.
With the change of night and morning. With her mood and her clothing.
They aren’t one color, simply a reflection of the things around her.
“Are you a seer?” I ask, remembering her ethereal glow in Ruse Village. Magic that was part of her, although she didn’t necessarily wield it.
“A variation of a seer, but not like my aunt. I’m an alchemist; my magic mirrors what’s around me, and I can manipulate the magic of others.”
“So, the light you became in the battle…”
“Was not my magic, no.” Her gaze drifts to the valley. “Seers like my aunt can read the threads to understand the past. A few can peer into the future.”
“What do you see?”
“Within.” Greer’s chin drops. She kicks her boot against the stone wall that separates us from the ledge and death.
“It’s mostly useless. I can tap into the magic of others, strengthen or dull it.
I can heighten emotions and manipulate senses.
It’s nothing that saves a life on its own, even if it is helpful in other ways. ”
She brushes her fingers over the stone ledge. Every surface here hums with secrets. It isn’t just the priestesses who tell stories in Tempest. It’s also the mountains. The creatures. This land is alive in a way that is unlike the Ley Court.
“Is that why the king has you training me? Can you see the magic inside me?”
“There are still many barriers in you, Elorie.” She shakes her head, her tone slightly bitter. “But yes, that’s why I earned my role. I’ll help the Crown however King Malachi sees fit.”
Greer turns to continue down the street, and I follow. Up ahead, laughs come from around the corner, and I assume that must be where the rest of the court has gathered when the priestesses are quiet.
“What made you leave Tempest?” I ask.
Now that she’s given me a hint of herself, I want to know more. But when Greer’s shoulders tighten, I sense I’m pushing too hard.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s fine.” She shakes her head. “It’s better that you understand.”
Greer pauses when we turn the corner. The group is still at a distance. We can see them, but they won’t hear us with how loud they’re being. She scans the street, but there’s nothing around apart from snow-covered roofs and the breeze.
“Before the Realm War, I studied under my aunt in the temples, while my parents traveled the continent, spreading word of the potential war. They helped coordinate the fronts in the event Queen Delayna and King Redsen made a move on Lyrichia. That, and they’d report on the Well.
Letting the king know of its growth and the creatures coming out of it. ”
“So your parents were warriors?”
“Messengers,” Greer corrects. “My mother had a nature affinity. She could hear the whispers in the wind. It came in handy for learning secrets. My father was a shadow wielder who could hide in a sliver of shade. Back when the Arches still allowed free travel between realms, they would spy on the Vaelier front to keep King Malachi apprised of any movement.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Greer’s eyes swirl a touch darker. “It was. Especially after my mother uncovered how Vaelier’s queen planned to use the Well to steal the remaining magic in Lyrichia.”
My eyes widen. “Is that possible?”
“At the time, yes. Each realm’s magic was still independent from the other.
The Well had not yet connected Lyrichia and Vaelier’s ley lines.
The queen had a plan to use her son’s magic to alter the current, so it would drain all magic from Lyrichia to the Well, and then from the Well into Vaelier.
It would have destroyed us.” Greer’s eyes glass over.
“My parents warned the king of Queen Delayna’s plans, and she was not happy about it. ”
Greer swallows hard, not meeting my gaze. The slightest wobble in her voice sends a chill up my spine.
“Vaelier rebels came to Tempest in search of my parents on a night I was at the temple. They ransacked the mountain. When they found them, they forced my father to watch while they tortured my mother. They did everything they could to extract what she knew. At the time, magic was stronger, and Fae could survive many things before they would succumb to a mortal wound. What they did to her lasted for hours.”
A single tear streaks her cheek, and she wipes it away.
“They were quicker with my father. His punishment was witnessing what they did to my mother. He was freshly dead when I arrived home, but the rebels were not gone. A few members of the Guard managed to stop them before they killed me alongside my parents, but not soon enough.”
She looks away, turning her face so I can’t see the scar running through her eyebrow, and I doubt that was the extent of it, but I know better than to ask.
“When they captured the assassins who killed my parents, I asked to be there while they were questioned. I came to the Ley Court to see that justice was served. Before they broke, they said they acted at the will of their queen. That a message was to be delivered that they would not tolerate spies.” She tightens her grip on the hilt of the blade sheathed at her side.
“When the time came to behead them, King Malachi handed me the sword, and he handed me my revenge.”
It's clear now why Greer is cold but extremely loyal to the Crown. She has seen the darkest side of this war, and her losses are great.
“Queen Delayna was ruthless,” I say, a shiver running my spine.
“Not just the queen. Vaelier. Her kingdom.” Greer turns to me.
“When she died, this war did not end. Peace did not follow. Vaelier fights as brutally as before, seeing no difference between guard or civilian. They will do worse than death if it means getting what they want. And their leader is no different.”
“Wilder.”
She nods. “Do not let him fool you. He is no better than his mother. I’ve seen you watching him. Spending time with him. And on the beach at Ruse Village—”
Greer cuts herself off, not saying it. I don’t even want to think it, but we both know.
I let him drink from me.
“That was a mistake. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Through Isolde’s death and Greer’s story.
Wilder is the enemy.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I say as Greer starts walking again.
“That was a long time ago.” There’s nothing hopeful in her tone. Only grief. A mantra of survival.
I’d know when I keep telling myself time heals all wounds. That someday this weight of losing my father—my home—won’t hurt anymore. No matter how often I think it, I don’t believe it myself.
“So you never came back to Tempest after that?”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather do something more than sit around waiting to see what the fates will show me. The king offered me a place within his Guard, and I was grateful to wield a sword instead of books. At least with this, I can make a difference in this war.”
Her palm presses the hilt.
“The queen planned to use Wilder to manipulate the Well, but how?” I ask. “Isn’t the magic in the Well of use to no realm? I thought that was why it drained us.”
“My parents didn’t know how the queen was going to accomplish it, just that she intended to. King Malachi said my parents ran before hearing anything else, as they were at risk of being caught. They relayed to the king what little information they had.”
Greer pauses as two priestesses pass. They glance at us, whispering, but I don’t know if they’re talking about me or her. Only when they turn another corner do Greer’s shoulders relax.
She leans closer. “I’ve heard that’s why the king kept Wilder alive all these years instead of killing him when he had the chance on the battlefield.
King Malachi could have ended his life then, but he didn’t.
Some think it’s because Wilder knows his mother’s secrets.
That he knows how to use the Well to alter what is destined to happen. ”
“Even if Wilder does know, why would the king think Wilder would help him?”
“He wouldn’t.” Greer grunts. “I guess it’s a good thing we found you.”
My stomach sinks as I digest those words. A breeze whips through the street, and I wish I’d thrown a cloak over my leathers.
Greer offers me a sad smile, walking to meet the Guard coming toward us, but I stay and take a deep breath.
It’s a good thing we found you.
I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it.