Chapter 22 #2
Remli’s expression tightens. “Your cover is gone. Kyler did what you asked—he went back under the guise of searching for you. When he reached your mother, he tried to warn her, but…” She swallows.
“She was confused. Said the King’s Guardians had already come for Sirona.
She said someone had summoned her and that she would return with the three of you. ”
My chest goes cold.
“What do you mean, summoned?” Lowan demands.
“About a day before Kyler got there,” Remli says grimly. “They told your mother Sirona was being called to court. Alva thought she had no choice but to send her.”
Lowan’s shadows flare wide for a split second in a harsh snap of feathers. “We were never fucking going back. She—” His voice breaks; he swallows it like glass.
“Kyler told her that,” Remli says. “He explained everything that had happened. And then he sent her away—told her to warn your people, told her to keep safe in case the Guardians came for her next. He’s been trying to figure out a way into the dungeons ever since.”
Lowan’s voice is ragged. “He sent a fire falcon.”
Even Remli blinks. “Gods. That was his once-in-a-lifetime.”
“Yes.” Lowan scrubs a hand over his face, trembling. “So where is he now?”
“Beside himself,” she admits. “He knows he can’t get her out alone. The access you had with Metra is no longer available. There’s no way in.”
Silence crashes over us. The horses shift uneasily. The wards hum in the distance like a heartbeat. Finally, I hear my voice cut through it: “I can get in.”
Every head turns. Lowan’s eyes flare with rage. “No. Absolutely not.”
I square my shoulders. “They’ll let me in.”
“They won’t let you out.” His voice is sharp, like a knife. “You think he’ll risk losing you twice? He will not cage you again. Not while I breathe.”
“I’m not who I was then,” I cut in. “Sirona was like a sister to me. She sat with me when I didn’t even know I needed company. She was always there. There is no world where I don’t save her.” His jaw flexes.
“You asked how we got you out,” Zillah says. “We had Remli and Kyler. They set charges, drew soldiers off. We don’t have that now.”
“Then we make a new plan. I’ll fly,” I say, the words burning out of me like truth. “I’ll fly in on wings of fire and draw them out.”
The idea takes shape quickly.
I’ll blaze across the trees, luring Guardians into the forest. Remli in lynx form and Selene with her nature magic will harry them deeper, tangling roots and branches, trapping them.
Zillah will do double duty—shielding our entry while cutting the Guardians off from their magic, leaving them only steel and fists. Then, Lowan and I slip inside.
By the time Remli returns with Kyler, he’s ragged, eyes burning. No one can dissuade him.
“I’m going in.” His voice is a blade.
Lowan looks at him for a long moment, then nods once. “I know how it feels. We let him.”
The plan unfolds in a blur. I don’t have time to overthink.
I let adrenaline take over and shift, flames engulfing me.
For a heartbeat, they all stare, awestruck, before I launch skyward.
The night erupts in shouts as Guardians scatter, chasing the fire-streak above the canopy.
I dive, vanish into the trees, shift back, running for Kairas’s saddle.
“As fast as the wind, for Sirona,” I whisper.
We ride hard, then split—Remli bolts as a lynx, Selene weaving nature against our pursuers. I circle back, meet Lowan and Kyler in the shadows. They shift, dark wings slicing the sky, then land beside me. Together, we stalk toward the dungeon doors.
The guard smirks as I approach. “Lost, girl?”
I pull back my hood, green eyes cutting like glass. “Do I look lost?”
He leers. “Maybe you’d like to be. With me.”
“Hmm.” I place my finger on my chin in mock consideration. “Can you shapeshift?”
He tilts his head and chuckles, confused by my question. “No, but”—
“Too bad,” I interrupt. “Because I have a type.” My blade arcs. His laugh chokes off.
Lowan and Kyler explode from the shadows, shifting mid-strike. Steel clashes. Screams ring. Guardians pour from every corridor.
There’s no time to think. My sword is an extension of my rage—slashing, blocking, crippling when I can, killing when I must. For a heartbeat, I’m nothing but fury, vengeance—a blazing shadow of death. I move like the wind, cutting them down without remorse, drinking in the terror on their faces.
“Metra!” Lowan’s voice cuts through the din. The Thread between us yanks taut. “Not too far, love.” I blink, breath ragged. I was slipping into somewhere dark. Numb. I force the rage back under control and keep moving.
A cry. My head whips toward a side corridor. I know who it is: Sirona. I blast the door open and rush in. She’s crumpled on the floor, blood drying on her skin. No shackles, but worse—she’s broken.
“Sirona,” I whisper, falling to my knees.
Her eyes flutter open. “Metra… I heard Lowan’s voice call your name.”
“We’re all here. We came for you.”
She tries to smile. “Such a risk. I’m not sure anyone can help me anymore.”
“Yes, we can. I can. Show me how—I’ll take your power, I’ll heal you.”
Her breath rattles. “It hasn’t…I’m still… couple of years from… fully Manifesting.”
Tears burn my eyes. I press my hands to her skin anyway, but all I touch is a wall of emptiness. Images crash into me—Sirona’s laughter with Kyler, childhood summers, the horrors of these dungeons, the shadow of Lowan’s father. Too much, too fast.
“Then we’ll find someone who can,” I choke. “Just hold on.”
The door bursts open again. Kyler. His face crumples when he sees her.
“Give her to me.”
I lift her into his arms. He holds her as if she’s made of glass.
Lowan shouts from the hall. We fight our way out—Kyler clutching Sirona, Lowan, and I cutting through anyone in our path. Zillah is waiting outside, guardians strewn at her feet, her face pale with strain. Shouts echo from the woods where Selene’s chaos rages.
Lowan whistles, and Kairas bolts from the trees. “Take her!” he commands, hoisting Sirona to Kyler after Kyler mounts. “Ride far and fast. We’ll follow.”
Kyler doesn’t hesitate. He kicks Kairas into a gallop, vanishing into the dark with Sirona clutched tight. Zillah mounts behind me, Lowan taking to the skies. Together, we tear into the forest.
The only goal now: beyond the wards. Zillah flares her magic, a streak of violet light arcing into the sky. Only Selene will know what it means.
We ride hard, hooves thundering across root and stone and snow, the wards tugging at my skin until—suddenly—they fall away. The pressure lifts. We are free of the King’s magic.
“Sirona needs to stop,” I gasp.
As if in answer, Selene and Remli burst from the trees, breathless, sweat streaking their faces. They fall into stride beside us. The moment we’re clear of the wards, we rein in just enough to pause. Kyler eases Sirona down, her body limp against him. Her skin is gray in the moonlight.
“I can help,” Selene says, already moving. She vanishes into the trees, returning moments later with leaves and blossoms clutched in her hands. Kneeling, she grinds them into powder against a rock, mixes them into a waterskin, and presses it to Sirona’s lips.
“Drink, little flower,” Selene whispers.
Some of it dribbles down her chin, but most goes down. Her lashes flutter once before sinking closed again.
“That’s all we can do,” Selene says quietly. “We have to keep moving.”
So we ride. Hours blur past, the world narrows to hoofbeats and Kyler’s arms clutching Sirona like she’ll shatter if he lets go. At last, Selene calls a halt near a low cave. “Here,” she says. “Safe enough. We can rest.”
The cave is shallow but dry, with a thin stream trickling nearby.
We carry Sirona inside, lay her gently near the fire that Lowan coaxes to life.
Zillah raises a shield around us, then slips away with Selene to gather more herbs.
Remli paces the perimeter in her lynx form, tail lashing, every sense on edge.
I stand near the mouth of the cave, half in shadow, watching.
Kyler kneels beside Sirona, stroking her hair back from her face. His hands are trembling as he cleans the blood from her skin with a damp cloth, coaxing her to swallow another sip from Selene’s mixture. He murmurs her name over and over like it’s the only tether holding him upright.
I look away, giving him space. Once when I lay broken and suffering, it was Sirona’s company that carried me through. Now all I can do is stand guard and pray she finds her way back to us.
Selene returns with an armful of plants, her eyes alight with focus. She kneels by Sirona, crafting poultices from ground leaves and blossoms, tenderly stroking them across bruises and gashes, then mixing another drink with crushed herbs. We all hover close, watching, waiting.
At last, Selene leans toward us, her voice low so Kyler can’t hear. “Her injuries are very severe.” I nod, my throat tight. Lowan’s face is ashen. Zillah stares at the ground.
“There’s a village about a day’s ride from here,” Selene continues. “If she can make it through the night, there’s a healer there who may help her.”
“Then let’s go now,” I whisper, remembering when it was me instead of Sirona—when I’d chosen to bypass the healer and wait until Moirae Isle, and how I’d struggled because of that choice.
Selene shakes her head. “She’s too weak. A ride now would kill her. She needs rest. She needs time. We can move at first light.”
We all look at one another, and though the decision cuts, we know she’s right. The best chance is to keep her alive through the night.
Hours pass, slow and heavy. And then—miraculously—Sirona stirs. Her lips twitch into a faint smile.
“Most of my favorite people,” she rasps, voice thin but teasing, “all in one place.”
Lowan kneels beside her, eyes glistening. “Anything for you, sister.”
She turns her face to him. “Once, I never imagined Kyler and me would be together… out in the open like this.”
Lowan exhales, shaky, then nods. “I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. You have my blessing. You’ve had it for a while.”
Her smile trembles. “That means more than you’ll ever know.” Kyler presses her hands to his lips, reverent, broken.
I step away, giving them the space of their moment. Zillah and Lowan sit close, fussing, while Kyler drinks in every breath of her. I drift toward the fire, where Selene crouches, hands busy with another bundle of herbs. Remli prowls outside, a silent shadow.
Kyler joins us briefly, his hands shaking. “Selene—thank you. Without you, she wouldn’t be here.”
Selene meets his eyes. “She’s not out of the woods. All we can do is rest and reach the village tomorrow. If we push her now, it may cost her.”
He swallows hard, nods. “At first light, then. I’ll be ready.”
I slip back to Sirona’s side. Her eyes find mine. “So,” she murmurs, “I hear you’ve been on quite the adventure.”
I manage a smile. “You could call it that.”
“A phoenix, Metra? Really?” Her weak laugh is barely audible.
“Word travels fast,” I say, trying for lightness.
She studies me with tender eyes. “I always knew there was something about you. That’s why I stayed close, why I babbled on—I wanted to be part of your story.
I felt you were meant to bring change, if not to the realm, then at least to us.
” Her glance slips past me, to where Lowan waits in the shadows. “And you have.”
My chest aches. “You weren’t just blabbering. Your friendship and company saved me. More than you’ll ever know.”
Her lips curve faintly. “Good.” Her lashes flutter. “I’m tired now.”
“Rest,” I whisper. “At first light, we ride for the healer.”
“That sounds… nice.” She drifts into sleep.
We divvy up the watches. Kyler refuses to leave her side. Zillah and Selene nestle deeper into the cave, exhaustion pulling them down. Lowan takes to the skies, a dark-winged shadow circling. I lie down midway between, waiting for my turn, though I know I won’t sleep.
The night presses in. Remli prowls outside, unseen but present. My eyes blur, my body finally succumbs, and then—
A guttural wail rips through the cave, raw and shattering. I jolt upright, heart racing. Kyler is on his knees beside Sirona, clutching her shoulders, screaming her name.
“Sirona! Sirona!”
The sound splits the night, and I know before I even reach them: she’s gone.