Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Several other people know the passphrases to the wards now, so by the time Draven and I reach the Seelie Court, everyone else is already there.
While the dragon shifters say goodbye and take off back towards their own homelands, the fae of our court remain out there on the grasslands, glancing in confusion between our strange group and the lone woman who walks out of the thorn forest.
Lavendera keeps her head held high as she strides towards us. But I can practically see the anxious worry and the fragile hope flitting across her beautiful face. She has been waiting for this moment for six thousand years.
Next to me, the Dryad Queen is gliding across the ground, the vines of her hair and dress rippling behind her.
It took most of the night to wrap everything up on the battlefield, find the wounded who could still be saved, and burn the dead we have lost. Afterwards, the rest of Draven’s clan flew to the Unseelie Court to let Orion’s citizens return home, while Diana, Ejnare, and the other dragon shifters who bonded the Seelie fae returned here to drop them off before heading back to their own homelands.
And now, as Draven, Isera, Orion, Alistair, Lyra, Galen, the Dryad Queen, and I walk towards Lavendera, the first rays of a new sun begin peaking up over the horizon.
“So, how was your first dragon flight?” I ask, giving the Dryad Queen an amused glance.
She just glides along in silence for another second before cocking her head in an oddly human gesture. “Surprisingly pleasant.”
Since it would have taken her too long to travel back to the Seelie Court on foot, she agreed to let Draven fly her back instead. I have never seen such a giddy expression on such a normally so wise and immortal face before. She was practically grinning the whole way here.
“Well, you and your people are welcome on the Western Isles any time,” Draven says, sliding her a look as well.
Her brown eyes gleam in the light of the rising sun. “We might take you up on that one day.”
“Do you have it?” Lavendera calls as she runs the final distance to us.
We all come to a halt, forming a semi-circle before her. The rest of the fae from our city edge closer behind us, no doubt curious about what’s happening.
“Yes, we do,” I reply, giving her a smile.
Relief crashes over her features. It’s so heartbreaking to see that I have to force myself not to show it on my face.
A little to my left, Orion pinches the fabric of his fancy shirt and pulls it outwards slightly, opening the pocket. That intensely glowing orb of light pulses inside it.
“Come on now,” he says to it. “Out you go.”
It burrows deeply into his pocket, pulsing several times as if cuddling him, and then finally flows out in a smooth motion.
“I have never been snuggled by a piece of divinity before,” Orion remarks. Then a sly smile curves his lips and his eye glints as he slides his gaze to Isera. “Though I suppose you come pretty close to that.”
Heat flushes her cheeks, and she snaps her gaze away from him. I suppress a chuckle. But Orion watches her with a serious expression that I suddenly can’t read.
Lavendera gasps as the tiny ball of light returns to its original size. The intensity of its light fades slightly as it no longer needs to compress its energy into a smaller vessel, but the deep golden glow is still enough to paint gilded highlights across the grass as it floats towards Lavendera.
The Dryad Queen follows it. Ancient words in a language I have never heard spill from her mouth as she gazes at the Soul of Trees. I don’t understand what the words mean, but they’re filled with so much primal power that it makes goosebumps spread across my skin.
“Uhm,” Lyra begins a little to my right. “Is anyone else seeing that?”
Tearing my gaze from the Dryad Queen, I look towards where she is pointing. Hundreds of small golden orbs are floating out of the thorn forest. They look exactly like the ones who guided us to the right place after the Dryad Queen saved us by opening the forest floor.
“Yes,” Alistair replies.
“Oh good. I was beginning to think it was the sleep deprivation.”
Awed silence spreads over the grass as we watch those glowing spheres flow towards us until they surround Lavendera and the Dryad Queen like a halo of gold. They pulse faintly as they bob there in the air.
The Dryad Queen walks up so that she is standing to Lavendera’s left, with the Soul of Trees glowing in front of them.
“Are you ready?” the ancient dryad asks in the gentlest voice I have ever heard.
Lavendera draws in a shuddering breath, tears of relief in her eyes. “Yes.”
My heart patters as I watch her slowly raise one hand.
Then she places her palm on the large glowing orb.
A surge pulses out from the two of them.
It’s so forceful that all of us stagger back from the shockwave. Blinking, I try to straighten and clear my vision at the same time. My jaw drops when the view before me becomes visible again.
Opposite Lavendera, on the other side of the Soul of Trees, now stands a majestic dryad.
The Mother Dryad. She is an entire head taller than the Dryad Queen, and her flowing dress, made of vines and branches, burrows into the soft grass.
Her pale green skin is weathered like rough bark, and her brown eyes are so deep that I feel like I’m looking in through a hole in the universe itself.
Lavendera drags in an unsteady breath and presses a hand to her head. Another sob of profound relief rips from her throat. “It’s so… quiet.”
The Mother Dryad smiles. Golden light falls across her face as the Soul of Trees floats up to hover above her shoulder instead.
“You have been so brave, my friend,” the Mother Dryad says.
Shivers roll down my spine at the sound of her voice. There is something so raw, so primal and powerful, about her voice that I suddenly feel as if I am listening to a goddess speak. And all I can do is to just stand there, rooted in place, and stare at the awe-inspiring being before me.
Another sob escapes Lavendera’s throat, and her bottom lip trembles as she looks back at the Mother Dryad.
Then a collective gasp echoes across the landscape.
I snap my gaze towards the rest of the Seelie Court behind us before I realize what caused their reaction. Whirling back around, I gape in open-mouthed shock as the thorn forest begins to shrink.
Twisted trees and vines and sharp thorns sink into the ground like a flower blooming in reverse.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I watch the thorn forest that has imprisoned me all my life disappear until all that is left are lush green plains and an open horizon, stretching all the way to the Peaks of Prosperity.
A small noise comes from the back of my throat, and I grip the fabric of my leathers right above my heart as a pang hits my chest.
We did it.
The Seelie Court is free.
A wave of joy explodes across the grass as all the fae behind us whoop and cheer and scream with relief and hope for the future.
Lavendera watches it all, a soft smile on her face.
And I can see it then. Lavendera Dawnwalker. Daughter of the Seelie Queen.
Then her gaze darts to us, as if suddenly remembering that we are all here, watching her.
Letting her hand drop down from her head, she sweeps her eyes over us all. The other fae behind us quiet down, watching her with anticipation.
“Can you show them just one first?” Lavendera asks, flicking a glance at the Mother Dryad. “And the rest later?”
“Of course,” she replies.
I suck in a sharp breath as vines suddenly grow up from the ground and wrap around my feet. Based on the yelps coming from both my friends and the fae behind me, the same thing has happened to them.
But before I can even ask what is going on, an image pulses through my mind.
A beautiful fae woman with flowing light brown hair and eyes that are purple and gold.
Her golden dress shimmers in the light as she sits on a throne inside the Golden Palace, and a breathtaking crown gleams on her head.
To her right stands another fae woman, tall and proud, with eyes that are gold and red.
And to her left is Lavendera. No scar mars her cheek and jaw in this image, and her pink and purple eyes are clear and bright.
All three women, with so very similar facial features, gaze out at a crowd of richly dressed Seelie fae.
I gasp, stumbling back a step as the image suddenly ends.
“I am Lavendera Dawnwalker, second daughter of the Seelie Queen,” Lavendera calls across the crowd of stunned fae. “And because my mother and sister are dead, the title of Seelie Queen now falls on my shoulders.”
Shocked silence rings across the grass as everyone stares at her. But we all saw the vision from the Mother Dryad, so no one questions her.
“I have no children, and I will bear none,” Lavendera continues. “But the royal line must survive. Therefore, I hereby name Isera Shaw, now Isera Dawnwalker, as my heir.”
Everyone’s jaw drops. Including Isera’s.
Clothes rustle as we all turn to stare at her.
Shock pulses across her entire face as she gapes at Lavendera and just blurts out, “What?”
Lavendera smiles. “I have watched you. When you were young, and in the Atonement Trials, and during this war. You have all the right traits for this position.” Sincerity shines in her eyes as she holds Isera’s gaze. “You will make an excellent Seelie Queen.”
“What do you…” Isera stutters. “You can’t just… I don’t know how to… What are you—”
Her words are cut off by a gasp as Lavendera suddenly staggers backwards. We all lurch forward, but the Mother Dryad has already caught her. With gentle movements, she lowers Lavendera down so that she is lying on her back in the soft grass.
Dropping down on our knees around her, we all watch her with worried eyes. The Mother Dryad settles herself next to her and gently holds her hand.
“Lavendera,” I begin, scanning her body for injuries. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” She smiles up at us all, her eyes glittering in the light from the rising sun. “Everything is as it should be.”
A tremor passes through her body, and she drags in a shuddering breath. Closing her eyes for a second, she lets it out and then looks up at us once more. There is an almost sad smile on her lips as she looks from face to face.
“For a while there,” she begins, her voice suddenly soft and fragile. “You reminded me what it’s like to have friends.”
My chest tightens with pain. “Lavendera, why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”
“Because I am. I am over six thousand years old. My body should be ashes in the wind right now. I have only lived this long because of the Mother Dryad. Without her, I cannot survive.”
“You’re dying?” I press out, my voice choked.
“Yes. Don’t look so sad. This is what I wanted.”
“You knew this would happen? You knew you were going to die? And you… you want it to be this way?”
“Of course.” A knowing smile ghosts across her lips. “Why do you think I looked so happy when I walked into the thorn forest where you were waiting to assassinate me?”
Shock pulses through me.
But Lavendera just smiles again. “I was hoping you would succeed.”
Next to her, the Mother Dryad squeezes her hand. There is no judgement on her ancient face, even though Lavendera’s death would have meant that the Mother Dryad died too. As if she knows exactly why Lavendera was hoping for it and sympathizes with her.
Shaking my head, I stare at her. “I don’t understand.”
She draws in a shuddering breath as another tremor rolls through her body. Age-old hurt flickers in her eyes for a second, and she presses her trembling lips together. Then she drags in another deep breath before sweeping serious eyes over us all.
“I was nineteen years old when I was taken,” she says, her voice breaking on the last word.
“Nineteen. My entire life has only been filled with pain. An endless cycle of torment and agony and despair.” A sob rips from her lips, and tears slide down her cheeks.
“I am tired. I just want to rest now. I want to finally be with my mother and sister, who have been waiting for me for six thousand years. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of being alone and in pain. After everything I have been through, I think I deserve peace.”
Tears burn behind my eyes, and I swallow against the thickness in my throat.
Another ripple goes through Lavendera’s body, and her eyes flutter.
The Mother Dryad holds her hand and strokes her cheek, wiping away the tears. “We have had six thousand years together, my friend. And you have been so strong. But now, you can rest.”
Lavendera sobs, her entire chest shaking and tears streaming down her face as she squeezes the dryad’s hand back.
The ancient dryad makes a soothing sound, and draws her fingers over Lavendera’s forehead, brushing away a few loose strands of hair. “Goodbye, my friend. I will watch the sunrise for you.”
Broken sobs full of relief and pain and centuries of friendship spill from Lavendera’s lips.
Still holding her trembling hand, the Mother Dryad cups her cheek. “Daughter of the Dawn, who has seen too much and suffered for too long. Rest now. I will walk the dawn for you.”
Lavendera lets out a deep sigh.
And then she smiles.
Her eyes sparkle in the glowing light of the rising sun.
Then her body turns to ash as the six thousand years of her life catch up with her all at once.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I watch her ashes drift away on a warm summer wind.
They glitter in the golden light as a new dawn rises over the Seelie Court.
.