Chapter 26 Violet #2
Alastor released my hand and immediately scanned the trees. “Let’s go,” he said. “And keep watch on your surroundings.”
I nodded, my heart beginning to thud a little harder in my chest.
We walked for a long time beneath the trees, the sunlight breaking apart overhead into ribbons of gold and shadow. Alastor moved with careful precision, every step measured as his gaze swept the trunks and undergrowth.
Sasha stayed several paces behind us.
She wasn’t here to help.
She was here to observe.
To report.
“I know I asked this two days ago,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “but has anyone shown up?”
“No,” he replied quietly. “The sand colossus shifts its position now and then, but the stone guardians remain in the throne room. I avoid the throne room.”
I frowned as we passed between two closely grown trees, their branches brushing against my shoulders as the path narrowed. “Do you think that means… there’s no one left?”
Alastor slowed half a step, though he didn’t stop walking. “No. I think they’re waiting.”
“For what?”
“To see if their Sovereign stays.”
His voice was calm, but the words settled heavier than I expected.
“A realm without its ruler is exposed,” he continued. “There’s no safety when the one meant to anchor the magic isn’t here to hold it steady.”
Guilt pressed against my ribs.
“We’re working on that,” I said, though the words sounded weaker than I wanted them to. Then, more honestly, I added, “But what do I actually have to offer them right now? I don’t even know if I’m capable of protecting anyone.”
He glanced at me briefly.
“I’d rather they stay hidden,” I went on. “Until I know the other realms won’t strike. Until I know I can stop them if they do.” My voice tightened despite my effort to keep it steady. “They shouldn’t feel safe yet.”
“Because you don’t know if they are,” he finished.
I nodded.
The forest thickened as we moved deeper, the trunks crowding closer together while the light dimmed. Alastor’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword as we walked.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked.
Alastor didn’t answer immediately. He slowed his pace, his gaze dropping to the forest floor where thin trails of sand drifted lazily between the roots. The grains gathered in shallow pockets of stone and bark as if they had wandered this far inland with purpose.
“The flower is protected,” he said at last.
I frowned. “A protection flower needs protection?”
The corner of his mouth curved. “There is a faerie who grows it. An old one. Territorial.” His eyes lifted toward the trees ahead of us. “The flower itself was created through her magic. When it blooms, it calls to the creatures of the land. Binds them. Shields the one who carries it.”
That made me slow beside him.
The trees began to thin gradually as we walked, their pale trunks warmed by sunlight that filtered more freely through the branches.
The bark was etched with natural spirals and whorls, patterns that looked almost intentional.
Sand softened the ground beneath our boots—not the loose, shifting grit of the open desert, but packed earth threaded with veins of gold and quartz that caught the light each time we moved.
Then the forest opened.
I stopped without meaning to.
A small house rested at the edge of the clearing.
It was low and wide, built from honey-colored stone that had been smoothed by years of wind and sun.
The roof curved gently instead of slanting, layered with sun-bleached tiles and vines that trailed down the sides in heavy green strands.
The windows stood open to the air—no shutters, no bars, nothing that suggested the need to guard what lived inside.
And in front of it—
Sunflowers.
Not the simple ones I’d seen painted in books or pressed between brittle pages.
These were taller than me, their stalks thick and unyielding, leaves broad and dark green.
The petals burned with a deep molten gold that shimmered faintly at the edges, as though each one held a piece of sunlight trapped inside.
Their centers were dense and dark, pulsing seeds packed tight together.
As one, the flowers turned toward us.
My breath caught in my chest. “Is that them?”
Alastor slowed beside me, his gaze sweeping the clearing carefully before settling briefly on the towering blooms. “Yes.”
“They’re…” I swallowed, unable to look away. “They’re beautiful.”
“They’re protective,” he corrected. “And old.”
I stepped forward without quite realizing I was doing it. The Solaryns leaned toward me in response. Just enough that their golden faces tilted with quiet awareness, tracking my movement like they recognized the Sovereign blood in me.
“She lives here?” I asked.
“She does,” Alastor replied.
I nodded, nerves beginning to hum under my skin. “So… is she just going to give us one?”
“She will,” he said again, his voice calm even as his attention sharpened. “You are her Sovereign. You just have to reach her first.”
“Reach her? I can’t just… you know…” I gestured to the front of the house. “Walk through the door?”
The growl rolled through the clearing as if answering me before he could respond.