CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“HOW DID THEY brEACH THE water? They haven’t been able to do it in twenty-one years!” Talyn spits, slamming his hands down on the table that holds a three-dimensional carved map of the realm.
Amethyst is focused on the map, her brows narrowed together and her lips pursed. “The currents are too tumultuous to build a bridge, as you all know. The reports coming in from the front line state that they had dragons use cages to fly and drop their troops behind our lines.”
“The boxes they used for the second trial,” I murmur, peering up at the others. “Those hold entire troops and supplies. The dragons had no issues carrying them, either.”
Aemon rubs his chin. “That doesn’t explain why they haven’t done it before. Why now?”
“Well isn’t it obvious?” Jesper scoffs. “Our little beastie declared herself the long-lost and thought-to-be-dead Princess of Damorleia. Well… Queen now.”
My body stiffens as I realize the consequences of my actions. “This is my fault?”
“This would have happened eventually, Little Warrior,” Killian murmurs. “We need to pull back and redraw the line. It’s not about protecting the border any longer. We need to go on the offensive and evacuate the local villages.”
Talyn nods, moving the blue flags that represent the Vathians. “Get them to start digging the trenches here and setting up traps as they fall back. If it’s fine by you, Amethyst, we should get the citizens to evacuate to Derfene—it’s our most defensible city.”
“I’ll send a pixie message to our generals,” she states.
“Now that we have that figured out, I need to go write letters to the families that lost fae during this battle.” I always thought Amethyst was stunning, and she is, but with this escalated war she seems beyond her age. She dips her head and leaves the room.
“We should head to the front line,” Talyn says after a moment, looking at Aemon. “The troops would benefit from seeing their future Lord fighting at their side.”
“I’ll be coming too,” I state firmly.
“No,” Talyn snaps while Killian growls. “Not a chance in the void will you be on that battlefield.”
I level my gaze at both males. “I’m the reason the war escalated—”
“We don’t know that,” Talyn states.
My hands rest on the curve of my hip. “If I’m to be their queen one day, I want to be the type to lead from the front. Not from behind. I’m not the kind of female that’s happy with males doting on me and doing everything for me. I will be coming.”
Aemon gently turns me towards him and uses a shadow tendril to lift my head up at him. “If this is what you want, then you’ll get it, but you’re not going to the front without a sword.” He grins mischievously.
“The smith agreed?” Jesper asks excitedly.
He nods. “He did. We were supposed to meet him in the morning, but he agreed to meet in an hour.”
I slowly glance between them all. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”
Aemon wraps me in his arms. “About five years ago, Evisdor and I were messing around with shadow fire and we learned that’s how dragonstone is made.
When silver is heated that fast with Evisdor’s flames and iron is added it creates this unbreakable material.
I found a smith that was willing to work with us, and me and the others all had swords made from dragonstone. ”
My eyes dart down to the beautiful sword Aemon always carries at his side.
“It cuts like butter, too. Just make sure not to touch the blade; there’s not much iron in it but it can still do some damage if not handled with care,” Jesper adds, tilting his hip out so I can admire his blade.
The red jewels and intricate metalwork are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
In fact each of my males—well, are they mine even if one of them is an asshole and the other has been sort of avoiding me?
—have one. Blue jewels for Aemon, red for Jesper, orange for Killian and green for Talyn.
“And I’m getting one? Like yours? Why haven’t I seen them before now?” I ask, running my finger over the bright blue gem on Aemon’s sword. “Well other than Aemon’s after I jumped to Vasari after the whole Phixmery debacle.”
“We left them here; we didn’t want to risk bringing them to Phixmery,” Talyn states with an edge of boredom. “Let me know when you’re done and we can go deal with this problem.”
Aemon dips his head in acknowledgement before addressing me. “We will have to leave for the city now, he’s expecting us.”
Excitement begins to bubble up inside me. I’m getting my own blade!
ACCORDING TO JESPER, the smith is located just on the outskirts of the city, but still close enough to walk to.
Aemon’s family castle is located about a half hour walk from the city of Kraryn, and since I haven’t really been out of the castle grounds, we decided that the short flight would be pointless, especially because by the time we get to the Keep and ready our beasts, we could have been almost there.
I watch the sky as Nero swoops around us, dive-bombing the ground only to pull up at the last moment.
He soars low enough to rustle my hair, and watching Jesper and Aemon try to dodge him is hilarious as they blink or roll away from him.
Killian watches him with an amused gaze, not even flinching when he flies close to him, like they have some sort of mutual understanding.
It shocked me—but in a good way—when Killian stated he was joining us.
Lately he’s stayed away. More emotionally than physically, but this bond in my chest settles when he’s near.
My hand absentmindedly rubs my sternum and in the back of my mind I know that pain is from Talyn deciding to stay behind.
It’s fine. We will either figure out this bond between us or we won’t. Even as that thought crosses my mind, I grieve for the male I remember from childhood, and wonder what went so wrong that turned him so bitter.
“My offer still stands,” Nero quips as he dives towards the ground again, this time landing and hopping around in front of us.
“No eyeballs from any of my bonds. We’ve been through this.”
He sighs dramatically and takes off again. My eyes shut briefly as I shake my head in amusement. I swear this obsession has only got worse since we’ve attended Phixmery.
Jesper threads his fingers through mine and pulls us down the trail, while the others stay closely behind. It doesn’t take long before we arrive at the blacksmith and the smell of slightly sweet yet acrid smoke.
Aemon knocks on the wooden door and a haggard elder fae male pops the door open with a scowl set on his face. “You’re late,” he mutters. “Is this the female who wants one of your fancy-arse swords?” His eyes roam over me, not in a leering way, but more curiosity.
“This is my mate,” Aemon announces with pride. “She—”
He waves him off. “You said she was important. Mate or not, it takes a lot of work and magick for this kind of metalwork. She’s tiny, I doubt she’ll be able—”
Jesper moves before I can blink, pinning the male to the doorframe with a blade to his throat.
“That female is the missing princess,” he hisses.
“Princess Maeven Pendroko of Maleen, last Gallalaus fae, and she is our mate. Yes, all of us. I would watch your tongue if I were you, or I’ll cut it out of your mouth.
You don’t need a tongue for your craft.” He presses the knife into his neck more and I watch in morbid fascination as a bead of ruby red blossoms and rolls down his neck.
The blacksmith’s eyes widen in shock as he glances between the four of us. “My apologies Princess Maeven. Please forgive me,” he stutters, even though his gaze seems to be full of skepticism.
“Please, call me Ravina. I don’t go by Maeven anymore,” I tell him.
“It’s part of your birthright,” Aemon states into my mind. “There’s no shame in taking that name again.”
My heart seizes as I glance over at him. His gaze would be unnerving if I didn’t know who he was, but I do. “There’s too much darkness linked with that name. Just leave it be. Please,” I add firmly.
He stares a moment longer before his head dips so slightly no one but me would have caught it. “Can we get on with this?” he asks, addressing the blacksmith again. “I’m sure you heard what is happening on the border, and I won’t be sending my mate anywhere near there without a proper weapon.”
The male straightens. “We will have to work into the night, but by morning you’ll be able to head north.” He opens the door fully and gestures for us to join him inside.
I take a breath and enter. The aroma I scented outside is much stronger in here—and it’s humid. Anvils, vices, hammers and various other tools are strewn about, and the forge is glowing bright with orange flames.
“I hope you don’t mind doing hard work, your majesty,” he says gruffly. “This will only work with you infusing your magick into the blade as we craft it.”
“But I don’t know how to forge a sword, or anything!” I say, slightly panicked, glaring at my mates.
He nods as if it’s obvious. “I’m here to do most of the heavy lifting. You just need your magick and a good swinging arm.”
Jesper chuckles from behind me and my glare narrows. They knew—they could have at least warned me.
I straighten my spine. A little hard work and pain is nothing. I’ve been through worse and I think I would take more pride in this weapon if I had a hand in crafting it. “Where do we start?” I grin eagerly.
Surprise lights up the male’s eyes as he tosses an apron at me. “Well first we need some shadow flame. Best call your dragon, if you are who you say you are.”
I smirk. “Vasari, want to light something on fire?”
Her excitement comes through our bond. “Are you finally tired of your familiar?”
My eyes roll, unable to help it. “No, we’re crafting me a sword.”