Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Aripple goes through the crowd as the Mother Dryad suddenly stands up. My friends and I, who were seeing Lavendera’s soul off to Mabona’s evergreen garden, get to our feet as well and move aside as the ancient dryad spreads her arms.
But vines quickly shoot up from the ground, encircling our feet.
When I glance towards the other fae a short distance away, they all have the same vines around their ankles as well.
The Mother Dryad’s imposing dress ripples around her as if on a phantom wind, and the movement is mirrored in the vines around our feet.
This is the same thing she did when she showed everyone that Lavendera was the daughter of the Seelie Queen.
But I have no idea what she plans on showing us next.
“Now, I will fulfill a promise to my friend,” the Mother Dryad says.
“We normally do not let other species into our hive mind, but Lavendera has been one of us for six thousand years, so I made an exception when she wanted to show you the image of her with her family. And now, I will make one last exception to honor her final wish.”
Morning sunlight falls across the soft grass as the new dawn rises over the Seelie Court. I keep my eyes on the Mother Dryad as she spreads her arms wide, her hair streaming out around her.
“Lavendera told me that you know nothing of your own history and culture,” she says.
“That it has been taken from you and forgotten over the millennia. But Lavendera Dawnwalker did not forget. She knew your history and lived inside your culture before the Icehearts took it from you. And because I have lived inside her head, I know it too. Now that I am finally free to access our hive mind again, I can use it to fulfill her final wish. Which is to gift it all back to you.”
I gasp as images suddenly flood my mind.
The faces of our entire royal line. The holidays we used to celebrate.
The style of clothes we used to wear in different eras.
Food we used to make. Games children played.
Stories and legends and entire books. Paintings and maps.
Weird mannerisms that used to be common.
Hair styles. Drinking games. Odd inventions.
Our history with the Unseelie Court. Forgotten prayers.
The alliances we had with the different dragon clans. The war.
All of it flashes through my mind like a massive flood, filling in the gaps where our empty history used to be. Everything Lavendera remembers. Everything from tiny insignificant details about everyday life to the crucial things like our roots to this land.
I stumble back from the sheer shock of it all, but Draven catches me immediately.
Sliding a comforting arm around my back, he pulls me against his side and holds me there.
The Mother Dryad must only be showing this to the fae of the Seelie Court, since Draven could apparently see me stagger backwards.
I lean into his steady warmth while I soak in every detail of my very rich history.
All my life, I have been told by the dragon shifters that we fae have no history worth mentioning.
That we only ever were the wicked descendants of untrustworthy people who broke a truce and ruined this entire world with our cruelty.
That we created nothing. Contributed nothing.
And while I didn’t want to believe them, it’s hard to convince yourself otherwise when that is all you have ever been taught.
But here it is. Our history. Our culture. And it’s rich and vibrant and ours. And it’s worth remembering. It’s worth celebrating. Because this is us. Both the wonderful traditions and the very strange things we used to think were normal. It is who we are.
I smile as the knowledge fills my mind.
Lavendera Dawnwalker, secret Seelie Queen for six thousand years, has given us back the soul of our court. She would have made her family proud.
A pang hits my heart as I think about my own parents. Oh how I wish I could do something like this with them so that I could finally find out the truth. But I guess some regrets last forever.
I blink as the flood of images at last fades, and the world around us comes back into view. Draven is still standing beside me with his arm wrapped around my waist. Leaning my cheek against his muscular chest, I heave a long sigh.
“Wow,” Alistair blurts out. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Isera and I reply in unison.
Across the grass, all the other Seelie fae are looking equally stunned. But when I gaze out at them, I realize that it’s not just shock. Light now fills their eyes, and hope for the future pulses through the crowd like waves of sunlight.
Next to Isera, Orion clicks his tongue while a sly smile tugs at his lips. “You didn’t want to share all your court’s secrets with me?” Pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense, he shakes his head with an exaggerated look of hurt on his face. “I’m wounded.”
My friends and I chuckle. Though Isera tries her best to suppress it and instead jabs him in the ribs with her elbow.
He just rubs a hand over the spot on his ribs and smirks wider as he turns that sly smirk on her. “Is this your way of saying that you like it rough?”
Heat flushes her face again, and she snaps a panicked glance towards the crowd of fae who are still staring at us. Though I don’t think they heard his comment since he kept his voice low.
“Oh, that’s right,” he continues in that deliberately teasing voice.
“You’re the Seelie Queen now.” He arches an amused eyebrow at her.
“Did I just cause an inter-court scandal? Perhaps I should have offered to worship your body instead. Just tell me what you want, little viper, and I will make all your wicked little dreams come true.”
“Orion,” she hisses under her breath. While desperately trying to force the blush away from her cheeks, she turns to the now slightly confused crowd and raises her voice.
“We will figure out how to deal with… the new queen situation and everything else tomorrow. For now, I suggest you all go back home and get some rest. Thank you for your sacrifices and your contributions to this war.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” a cheerful voice calls.
We all shift our gazes towards the sound of it and find Fenriel standing there with Talon perched on his shoulder. He runs a hand over the hawk’s feathers and gives us all a wink. Then he bows to Isera before strolling back towards the city.
His public acceptance of Isera as the new Seelie Queen works as intended, because the rest of the crowd seems to snap out of their hesitation. They all bow to her as well and then start towards the city.
Out on the sunlit grass, Fenriel turns to his hawk and gives its beak a gentle push upwards. “Come on, Talon. Let’s see if we can find some pastries.”
The hawk lets out a cheerful call and leaps into the air.
Another crack in my heart heals as I watch Fenriel stroll away with Talon soaring through the warm summer air above, on their way to fulfil Trevor’s dreams for him.
“I have a gift for you as well,” Orion suddenly says in a serious voice.
I turn back towards him.
And then start in surprise when I realize that he is looking at me. Draven, who still has his arm around my waist, raises his eyebrows at the Unseelie King in silent question while all our other friends watch him as well. Even the two dryads study him curiously.
“For me?” I ask, glancing from side to side in confusion.
“Yes,” he replies.
The gravity in his tone sends a bolt of worry through my spine. Draven seems to feel it, because he tightens his arm slightly around me.
“While Galen and I were flying back here,” Orion begins as he holds my gaze with that serious expression on his beautiful face, “I thought about what you told us all while we were bringing our wounded back from the battlefield.”
My heart skips a beat as another flash of worry hits me.
While we were working to clear the battlefield, I finally told them all about my struggles with the addictive side effects of my magic.
How it started out manageable and then got worse after the grief and regret I felt when my parents died and then how it all culminated when Orion was forced to make me see those memories over and over again to save me from Kander von Graf’s magic.
Orion already knew about it, of course. So I don’t know why he is bringing that up again.
Not that it matters. The only people who are still here are him, Draven, Alistair, Isera, Galen, and Lyra.
Well, and the two dryads, the Soul of Trees, and that entire cloud of glowing golden orbs, of course.
Everyone except the dryads and the floating spheres of light already know everything.
But that serious tone of his voice is making me worried, so I detach myself from Draven’s embrace and straighten my spine to brace myself for whatever this is.
Orion holds my gaze. “And I realized that I can give you the answer you so desperately want.”
I jerk back in shock. Blinking, I just stare at him in silence while fighting down the treacherous burst of hope that tried to flutter in my chest. Because there is only one question that I desperately want an answer to.
But it can’t be that question that he is referring to, because there is no one left alive to answer it.
“How?” I breathe, still trying to keep those fluttering wings of hope from taking flight. “I don’t know if I used magic to make my parents hate me, so there is no memory like that in my head. And my parents are dead, so you can’t access their memories.”
“Yes, there is a memory like that in your head,” he replies, his entire face full of sincerity. “You have just been watching it from the wrong angle all this time.”
Drawing in a shuddering breath, I swallow while my chest tightens with both hope and pain. If this is true…
“Would you like me to show you?” Orion asks.
Not trusting my voice, I only manage a desperate nod.