Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Nova
We returned to find Rivenholt Palace and its grounds eerily quiet.
A thousand explanations for the silence crossed my mind, each more horrifying than the last.
What if we were too late? What if everyone was dead? What if Aleks had kept killing, even after my magic and I had left this realm?
“Focus,” Lorien muttered.
Somehow, I forced myself to, though the pit in my stomach continued to grow.
We had emerged on the very outskirts of the palace grounds, and the plan was not to get any closer than this; I knew my brother well enough to know that he wouldn’t keep battling to the death if he could help it.
He was far more likely to have pulled back once I’d disappeared, his focus shifting to protecting the royal city and the ones who had evacuated to it.
He would be cautious, regrouping and waiting for reinforcements before he attempted to reclaim our overrun palace.
The eerie quiet all but confirmed this was what had happened.
Or that’s what I was choosing to believe, at least.
After a quick scouting of the immediate area, we made our way into Tarnath. The sun was relatively high in the sky by this point, but a thick fog hung over the streets, obscuring the buildings around us.
Though I couldn’t see everything clearly, the city bore obvious signs of the night’s chaos. The usually bustling market square was eerily empty, its colorful awnings hanging limp in the damp air. Overturned carts and scattered belongings littered the cobblestones, abandoned in the rush to flee.
I cloaked Lorien and myself in shadows as we crept through the streets, hiding us. The dark shroud stifled our footsteps as well, allowing us to pass by the few people we saw with little more than the occasional confused glance in our direction.
The first place I went was the old barracks at the edge of the main square, a large building that had been empty ever since my return to Rivenholt, but which I knew had housed refugees and soldiers in past emergencies; I wasn’t surprised to see plenty of activity bustling around it.
Supplies were being carried in and out. Wounded soldiers were being helped into waiting hands.
Small clusters of people huddled around the edges, talking in hushed voices and casting worried glances about.
I cut my eyes toward Lorien as we approached the entrance. “Not many will recognize you, but it’s still probably best if you wait outside while I find the others.”
“Are you planning on enlightening me about the rest of your plan before you tell it to them?”
“No.”
“Wonderful.”
“Just don’t do anything rash while you wait.”
“Hurry up,” he replied, “and I won’t need to.”
The words were less than comforting, but I didn’t waste time debating with him. I slipped inside the barracks, passing several soldiers who did double-takes before dropping into hasty bows and then trying to clear a path for me.
Even with escorts, it was overwhelming to push through it all. The troubled voices, the moans of pain, the metallic scent of blood mixed with herbs and smoke…it pressed in on me from all sides, making me slightly dizzy.
There were so many wounded.
My appearance seemed to be a welcome sight for most of them, at least. It wasn’t the main reason I was here—and I didn’t truly have time to spare—but I couldn’t help pausing to grasp the hands that reached for me.
Stopping to greet the ones who called out my name.
Kneeling beside some of the more distraught survivors.
I was still scanning the crowd for my brother and the others, but I was constantly being pulled in other directions, and after several minutes, I still hadn’t found anyone I was looking for.
Lorien remained outside as I’d asked, but I would have sworn I could sense his growing impatience with me.
His irritation bleeding into my thoughts, a mental prod that felt distinctly annoyed…
and then I realized I truly was hearing and feeling those things, because he was sending them through our Vaeloran connection.
Annoyed at the intrusion, I twisted around and started to march back toward the exit.
A familiar face caught my attention before I made it back to the door.
“Aveline!”
She stopped in the middle of her task, tossing a basket of bandages onto an empty bed and rushing to embrace me.
Her usual scent of soft rose and clean linen was marred by the strong scent of disinfecting alcohol, but it was comforting, nonetheless.
I sank into her warmth, letting myself relax for just a moment.
“I knew the rumors weren’t true,” she said, her arms tightening around me.
“People talking as if you were gone…” She leaned back, studying my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Her fingers didn’t seem to be able to keep still.
She kept adjusting my collar and hair, going so far as to redo the loose end of my braid, clearly flustered even as she smiled encouragingly at me.
“They don’t know my queen like I do, do they? ”
I breathed in deep, trying to inhale her steadiness, her unwavering faith in me.
But all I could think about as I stared into her eyes was her niece, who, as far as I knew, was still lying dead in the palace entryway.
I averted my gaze, attempting to keep her from seeing the pain in it.
She cupped a hand against my cheek. “You’ll be wanting to speak with your brother, I suspect.” Gently, she forced my eyes back to hers. “I can show you to him.”
I was so overwhelmed with relief I forgot to breathe for a moment. “He…he’s safe?”
She nodded, her hand moving from my cheek to the apron she wore, taking out a handkerchief and wiping something from my forehead.
Blood, or dirt, or the gods knew what else.
Then she switched abruptly into her commanding mode, carving a path through the chaos, guiding me out of the building and pointing to a run-down house at the end of the street.
“Straight on to that house with the faded red door.” She glanced between it and the barracks behind us, fighting off a frown. “You’ll be all right, now?”
It was an affirmation as much as a question, but I still nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good. I’ll need to get back in there before someone bleeds out on my watch.”
I grasped her hands one last time. She gave them a tight squeeze, commanded me to be careful, and then she was back to the business of ordering everyone else around.
I hurried on toward the house she’d indicated, Lorien secretly following in my wake.
Phantom sensed me coming before anyone else; his bark was a beautiful sound.
He appeared a moment later, shifting into dark mist and squeezing through a cracked window, then materializing back into his familiar canine shape as he hit the cobblestone street.
He raced to greet me, but his wagging tail turned to raised hackles and bared teeth as Lorien stepped out of the shadows alongside me.
“It’s fine,” I assured Phantom. “I can explain.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. (I have doubts.)
“Still doubting me after all this time? Really?”
Another growl turned into an uncertain whine, but before he could say anything else, the door was opened by two guards who ushered us inside. They both cast wary looks at the man accompanying me, but neither dared to question what I was doing.
Captain Voss stood in the back of the entry hall.
His face brightened a bit at the sight of me.
“Your Highness.” He bowed his head, and as he lifted it, his gaze fell on Lorien, and he briefly froze—one of the only times I’d seen him speechless with uncertainty.
He clearly recognized who he was, though; my brother had likely filled him in on the details.
Lorien held up a hand. “No titles necessary for me.”
The captain’s lip curled. “I didn’t intend to address you with one.”
I cleared my throat. “Is my brother here?”
With one last cautious look at Lorien, Voss slowly made his way toward a narrow door flanked by two more guards, motioning for me to follow.
The room it opened into was much larger than I would have guessed from the other side. No less than a dozen high-ranking soldiers moved about the space, exchanging information and discussing strategy in low voices.
Thalia and I spotted each other at the same time. She went perfectly still for a moment, blinking in disbelief, before crossing the room in a few frantic strides. She caught me by surprise when she threw her arms around me—surprising herself, too, judging by how quickly she let me go.
She tried to compose herself, to fall back into her usual stoic demeanor. But her eyes were shining with emotion when she said, “I really wish you would stop coming up with new, creative ways to scare me.”
I gave her a sheepish smile.
“And new, creative ways to test your brother’s patience,” she added, glancing at Lorien.
“It’s a necessary evil, I’m afraid.”
“…Come on, then,” she said, ushering me toward a smaller room off to the side, where my brother was deep in conversation with several of his advisors.
Zayn sat in the corner of this room with a tankard in his hand, his shoulder heavily bandaged, his eyes drooping slightly; I suspected whatever was in his cup contained strong pain relief of some sort.
He rose at the sight of me—only to sink back into his chair when he noticed who I’d entered the room with.
It was a grim reminder of the complicated pasts that haunted every step and decision we made.
Doubt crept into my chest as I watched Zayn turn away, all trace of his usual good humor and optimism gone from his expression.
The weight of what I was planning—what I would be asking them all to accept—hit me in full force, making it hard to breathe.
But it wasn’t as if I could turn back now.
Bastian finally looked up from his conversation, stopping mid-sentence at the sight of me. He hastily finished giving a few orders and then excused himself, shaking his head as he stepped to my side.