Chapter 35
Elorie
The sleep quarters in Tempest are a tall square tower of rooms that remind me of cells without bars or locks. A spiral staircase winds up the center, with three wooden doors on every floor. The room I’m given is barely big enough to walk around the bed.
At least my small window offers a view of the valley below.
Firebugs flicker in the night, dancing with the stars. The thick scent of burning pine hangs heavily in the air from the great hearth. After Greer told me about her family, she took me to the center of the mountaintop, where a large fire blazed in a circle of stone.
She said it was the heart of the mountain. That if you stare into the flames long enough, they will show you your path.
After my conversation with Lady Reah, I wasn’t prepared to swallow any more truth, so I looked away.
But that fire, burning all day and night, never weakening in the breeze or snow, sends its essence into the sky, reminding me of its presence like the pyres at home reminded me of imminent death.
I roll onto my back, closing my eyes. But all that does is make my mind wander to the edge of my thoughts, where a thread still hangs ever present. Even as I hold my fist around it, I sense aether.
Wilder is the enemy king.
Responsible for unspeakable things.
And yet I feel this bind of blood and promise between us. As if I’m humming in his veins, and he’s sparking in mine. While the thread to the king is dark and quiet. So different from my tie to Wilder. Empty.
I press my palm over my heart and count the beats like they might provide answers. My lips press tight as I steady my breath. I focus on the warmth that stirs when I’m not paying attention to it.
Magic I’ve been denying.
Truths I’ve been avoiding.
I stare at the door between my conscious mind and what’s inside, and it opens when I release my thoughts.
Until I’m floating in a room full of stars.
My fingers loosen their hold on the thread, and something gold sparks in the obsidian darkness. It’s distant, but he’s there at the periphery. Like he’s been waiting for me to seek him out again.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than wander around at the edge of my thoughts?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Wilder’s voice is lethal and soothing.
Infuriating and utterly calming. But tonight, it’s also strangely distant.
“Are you in the sleep quarters?”
“Why? Planning on venturing up to my room?”
My nose scrunches. “Of course not.”
His laugh sends a shiver through the thread.
“So you aren’t going to tell me where you are?”
“Keeping tabs now, Starfire?”
“No. I’m counting down the minutes until the full moon because then I’ll finally be rid of you.”
“Says the girl who has refused to let me die twice. I’m beginning to think you have a little crush.”
“That couldn’t be farther from the truth. And I saved your life before I knew you killed Isolde. Clearly, I should have just let you perish.”
“Your king killed her; you can hardly blame me.”
My eyebrows pinch. “You gave him the ammunition. He didn’t know how close we were.”
“Because he’s not paying attention.”
“But you are?” My jaw tightens. “Lucky me.”
Wilder doesn’t respond. For a moment, the other end of the thread is quiet. My mind wraps around it, traveling the path to see if he’s still there, and that’s when I’m met with the steady beat of his heart.
“Looking for something?” The roughness in his voice is as soothing as it is chilling.
“Why did you do it?” I ask, shifting my head on my pillow so I can stare out the window and look at the stars. “Isolde already lost so much in this war. She didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“War is rarely pleasant, Elorie. We all lose something. There are no winners, regardless of the outcome.”
“Is that how you justify the things you do?”
Wilder exhales in my mind, quiet for a moment before speaking. “Do you know what’s interesting about history? About war?”
I swallow hard, not answering him.
“There are always two sides.”
“Are you saying I don’t know the whole story?”
“Do you honestly think you do?” The challenge in his voice makes my chest tight. “There’s a reason you reached out to me tonight. You want to hate me for the sake of your friends, but you already know the answer to your own question.”
Closing my eyes, I listen to his heartbeat through the thread, wishing he was wrong. Because Wilder isn’t good—that much he’s proven. But something tells me he isn’t truly evil either. No matter what he’s done.
I feel him smirking through the thread—I can practically see it in my mind. “Is that what you’re looking for, Starfire? Something to make me redeemable?”
“Is that even possible?”
“Live long enough and there is no redemption. Besides, I don’t regret what I’ve done to protect my kingdom.”
“You don’t feel guilty?”
“I didn’t say that. Regret and guilt aren’t one and the same.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to put the pieces of him together. Wishing this was all simpler.
“Do you feel guilty about what happened with Isolde?”
“No.” He answers so quickly, my heart sinks. “Isolde died because she had faith.”
“In what? The king?”
“In you. She knew that if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Greer or Callum.
It would have been someone else close to you.
Isolde saw your strength. She saw the possibilities.
She knew you needed them for whatever comes next, and that’s why she asked me to give her name to the king. Isolde did not fear meeting Sarrow.”
Wilder is implying it was Isolde’s choice.
It doesn’t make sense.
Or does it?
I think back to what Isolde told me. She wanted to give up after she lost her mate in Rohldova; she was only here to keep a promise to him. I was her excuse to finally let go.
“You were,” Wilder confirms. “But that’s not your fault.”
His reassurance does nothing to ease the knot in my chest.
“Would the king really have chosen Callum or Greer if Isolde hadn’t offered herself in their place?”
“To test a theory, yes.”
“And you’d have let him?”
“Do you think I control your king?”
“Answer the question, Wilder.”
There’s a beat of silence through the thread. My stomach knots, and I know the answer before he says it.
“I’m not here for them, Elorie. You know I would have.”
“There have to be limits.”
Wilder scoffs. “You should tell that to your king. He’s the one who wrapped his magic around Isolde’s neck. Who tortured my people and then brought you their mutilated corpses to resurrect. Yet you have nothing to say to him.”
“Because he will save Alyssium.”
“So he says.”
“If he doesn’t, then I’ll do it.” Even in my mind, I’m out of breath. “I’ve given up thinking either of you is looking out for anyone but yourselves, and that’s fine. But at least if I choose King Malachi, Alyssium stands a chance.”
Wilder chuckles, and I feel him retreating before I pull the thread closed. “Just to spite him, I hope you do.”
He fades from my mind, and I let out a breath. My hands unclench as my eyes open. And that’s when I see the glowing white threads weaving from my fingertips, illuminating the room. Magic dancing all around me.