Chapter 45
The next morning, Nephele wakes me.
“Hey, Sunshine.” She uses my old nickname, but the light of it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Alexus called a meeting, and he’d like it if you’d attend. Let’s get you dressed.”
I sit up and scrub my face, dragging my hands through my hair.
After accidentally stumbling awkwardly into Rhonin’s room the night before, I found a dark nook at the end of the hall and hid, crying until there were no tears left to lose.
When the wave passed, I blessedly found Nephele’s chambers.
She and Hel shared the bed with me. Neither pried about why I’d abandoned Alexus in the middle of the night or why I couldn’t stop shuddering with aftershocks.
They took turns holding me, and I clung to them, so thankful they were there.
“Where is Hel?” I ask my sister.
Nephele begins rummaging through her wardrobe.
“Downstairs with Rhonin, preparing for the meeting. They’re very strategic people, those two.
I think they’ll make great friends.” With a tunic in hand, she sits on the edge of the bed.
The whites of her eyes are clearer today, but I still see exhaustion and so much sadness.
“Do you want to talk about last night?” she asks.
I shake my head. All we’ve talked about has been so painful.
Our discussion about Mother and Father, the God Knife, and her life here with Colden was so much to endure.
I’m not ready to delve into anything more.
To tell her my heart aches because Alexus’s life hangs in the balance, and that I fear her dear friend captivated me the moment I first looked upon his face.
I can’t tell her that I thought of a million ways to save Colden Moeshka last night, nor that I had to stop myself from sneaking out of the castle and stealing a horse to ride toward the Summerlands alone.
She’s been through so much. Her heart isn’t just broken, it’s shattered.
She doesn’t need to bear my heartache as well.
“It has been a harrowing journey,” I sign. “I am only tired and worried.”
“Yes.” She glances at her hands, fidgeting with the ties on the tunic, but I can see the way her eyes pull tight and her chin lifts.
The way she fights to appear strong. “Colden doesn’t believe that Fia will bend, even with his life hanging in the balance.
It’s been so long. They don’t hold the same feelings anymore.
” She takes my hand. “I also know that Alexus will do his damnedest to get Colden back, and I hold every confidence that the prince, no matter what magick he holds, will not defeat Fia Drumera. Tiressia will not fall into his hands.”
These words are for her own comfort, and perhaps mine, too, but much as I might want to be, I’m not convinced. She may know about the Summerland mage, and the Prince of the East may have touched her magick, but she hasn’t seen inside his soul. She doesn’t realize how virulent he truly is.
“I saw Alexus this morning,” she says, changing the subject. “He stopped to make sure you were all right.”
I sigh and swallow hard. I don’t want to have this conversation. It’s been so very long since I’ve seen her. We’ve so much else to say.
“I don’t really know what happened between you two last night or during your time in Frostwater Wood,” she adds, “but I could sense the magnetism you share. That much was very clear in the construct.” She flits her delicate fingertips across the rune visible in the slit of my gown.
“And he marked you. That’s no small thing, Raina.
It means he claimed you. Alexus has never claimed anyone.
It’s an ancient Eastern rite. It means he shared his power with you.
You might not feel it now, since his magick is still mostly dormant, but eventually, with some practice, you’ll be able to harness his power, and the bond between you two will only grow deeper roots.
If you don’t want that sort of connection, you can tell him. It can be changed.”
I nod, but I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what I want.
Alexus said I could reverse the rune, but I don’t truly understand the implications of all that’s happened yet.
I only know it feels right to have Alexus Thibault’s mark on my skin, though now I must ask myself if I’m being foolish.
I’ve opened myself to a man who has already changed me so much.
I can’t imagine what will happen if I let this go further.
Worse still, part of me wants to find out.
Half an hour later, Nephele and I stroll downstairs and enter a magnificent three-story library with at least a hundred times the number of books that fill Alexus’s room.
I’m wearing my sister’s clothes, a fine, red affair more ornate than anything I’ve ever owned in the valley.
I would love it if not for the fact that, right now, it reminds me of the prince—of blood and death and his creeping, crimson shadows—and I’m so tired of thinking about all those things.
Alexus sits at the head of a long, gleaming table strewn with maps. The old iron key I noticed on his desk now hangs from his neck. His hair is tied back, and he’s clad in black, a dark knight if I’ve ever seen one.
I rip my gaze away the moment his stare caresses me from crown to toe. The mark on my chest warms at his nearness, reminding me that I’m his in an odd sort of way.
A dozen men and women I’ve never met sit around the sprawling table. Another dozen stand along the edges of the fire-warmed room, including Hel and Rhonin. Every spine is rigid, faces drained of color.
Nephele and I sit, and Alexus begins a speech about how powerful the Eastern enemy has grown, about how these leaders can’t blame themselves for the invasion.
They did all they could to stop the Eastland army, but the Prince of the East—with his stolen fire magick—drew Colden Moeshka out of hiding, a king surrendering to save his people from further destruction.
“Finding and taking back the king will not be an easy journey or task,” Alexus says.
“It’s a long way to the coast. If we plan to enter the Summerlands, we’ll be forced to face the traitors of the Northland Watch in Malgros, and if we make it past them, we’ll have to endure the sea.
There’s no passage there, even for Northlanders, and if we make it across, the Summerland ports are heavily surveilled.
We’ll need to be very convincing, very clever, have a windfall of luck, or perhaps all three. ”
“What if the king isn’t in the Summerlands?” Hel asks. I’m surprised when she speaks up, though I suppose I shouldn’t be. She’d wanted to be part of the Northland Watch for a reason. “Raina could check the waters,” Hel continues. “To see where he is.”
When she pauses, Rhonin speaks. “The prince likely took the king to the Eastland Territory, to his palace, especially if his power is weak or gone altogether. He needs his Brotherhood. He doesn’t have Nephele, and the king no longer has magick for the prince to steal.
He must find someone to replace the Summerland mage he siphoned from, or his plan falls apart.
We could go straight to the source. Attack while he’s vulnerable. ”
Alexus eyes the pair appreciatively. “I like your thinking, but right now, there aren’t enough of us to take on the Eastlanders in their homeland.
The prince will eventually go to the Summerlands.
He must, at some point, if his mission remains.
We will have a much better chance against him if I reach Queen Drumera first.” Solemnly, he looks around the room.
“So many of you have given your lives to this land, in some form or another, and though it pains me to ask you to give more, I wouldn’t want to face this undertaking with anyone else.
The grooms are preparing our packs and horses to leave come morning.
I ask that you all spend the day in consultation with your families and consider accompanying me on the journey to the Summerlands. Save for Nephele and Raina.”
The second I stiffen in my seat, Nephele grips my knee, uttering my name through closed teeth, the way Mother used to when warning me to hold my tongue at the dinner table.
I clench my jaw, my glare cutting, sharp as any knife.
Alexus holds up a hand. “You’ve only just found each other. I won’t stand in your way if either of you wants to leave.” He looks at me pointedly. “This is what you wanted.”
I can feel Rhonin and Hel’s attention—this mission needs a seer—but I keep my stare trained on Alexus, something tight coiling in my chest.
This is what I wanted. From the very beginning. To find Nephele and take my family away from war, away from the Frost King, away from the Northlands. Rhonin offered me freedom, too, and I’d thought I could seize it. Thought I could run away from everything.
But this time, I hesitate. Because Finn was right. The kind of freedom I long for doesn’t exist, no matter where I go. Not in a world where the Prince of the East has any power, and Neri the White Wolf roams free.
I turn to Nephele, perhaps for her to make the decision for me. She shakes her head, a plea of forgiveness painted on her face. Even if I’d made it to Winterhold while Mother still lived, Nephele wouldn’t have fled. She has a new loyalty now, and it isn’t to me.
Abruptly, I rise, my chair clattering to the floor behind me.
Nephele reaches for my wrist, but I jerk away from my sister’s touch.
Alexus stands and opens his mouth to speak, but this time it’s me who holds up a hand, silencing the Witch Collector, my soul torn for so many reasons I can’t parse them all.
I march toward the library door, Alexus behind me, but I turn before I leave. He’s so close, towering before me. His nearness takes my breath and heats the mark on my chest.
He lowers his voice, his words meant only for me, though every eye and ear behind him is fixed on us both. “I will not ask you to ride into battle for a man you don’t consider your king, Raina. If you’d rather make your way to the Western Drifts or even off this break, I cannot fault you.”
What was it he’d said? In the cave?
There will be more life after this. You will see your sister, and you’ll figure out your future from there.
If I’m not too late to save Colden, the kingdom and the vale will rebuild.
If I am too late, I guess I’m going on a quest to save this empire, and you’ll probably take to the seas and end up with someone who will make you a very happy woman.
He’s never truly imagined any other outcome. But why would he?
Tears prick my eyes, and heat rushes up my neck and across my face. I don’t know why this angers me so. I only know that I’m scared of what I’m feeling. My already-wounded heart is at risk for more indescribable loss I cannot endure.
But I form the words burning at the tips of my fingers anyway.
“I would be riding into battle for Colden Moeshka, the man who gave all for my sister and me. I would be riding into battle for the future of Tiressia.” I turn to leave but face him once more.
With my hands, I pound out a truth I need him to understand, a truth that’s quickly becoming more than I can stand.
“And I would be riding into battle for you.”