Chapter Eight
The instant I landed, my feet barely scraping the lip of the cave, I felt Matea materialize next to me.
“What was that?” she asked loudly, shoving my shoulder and causing me to fall back a step.
“Hey! Back off,” Rayven responded after appearing next to me and resting a hand on my shoulder gently, as though to stabilize me.
Shrugging off his hand, I regained my step forward.
“That,” I said, “was me doing my best! You both saw how they’re living out here. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing!”
Matea looked stunned, but a moment later, she began laughing. “Do you really think that handful of silver is going to help? You’re delusional, Aviva.”
My heart sunk at the thought. I knew, realistically, that the coins wouldn’t make a dent in the kind of help the fae of Genisyn needed, but I had thought it was better than doing nothing.
“You don’t truly mean that, Matea,” Rayven said.
“I was there, I felt your shadow itching to help her when those two males showed up. You aren’t upset with Aviva for wanting to help that female—you’re upset with her for putting herself in harm’s way.
” He stepped up to my side again. “Or does that hit too close to home for you, little wielder?” He nearly sneered the last part.
The amount of emotion written on his face as he spoke shocked me. The spy was always so calm and collected, but Matea got to him so easily.
Turning on her heel without another word, my sister ducked into the small cave, hopefully to cool off.
Watching as she disappeared from view, I couldn’t help the creeping feeling of helplessness that snuck into my mind. What could I do for my people?
In the South, I’d gained power and I’d had a say in what happened, what moves we made. But in the North, I didn’t have those privileges—my twin did.
I wished to the Stars that Dimitri didn’t know the state that the North was truly in. And if he did, that he was doing what he could to fix it.
Before my mind could spiral any farther as I began to think about my brother, Rayven stepped into my line of sight, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hey, Your Majesty? I think we’re safe now. You can let go.”
“Let go?” It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how utterly exhausted I had become in such a short amount of time. And how windy it had become.
“The storm, Aviva. Let go of the zirilium, before you lead them to our location,” Rayven said, firm but gentle.
I gasped as realization hit me, and my face tilted up to look at the gray clouds that had followed me all the way here. Thunder rumbled, and I could see the rain and hail not far off from where we were hiding out.
Panic began to eat at me as I thought about the last time I’d created a true storm—back at Echen Bay—and how I’d needed Byn’s help to release the hold I’d had on my zirilium.
This time, I didn’t have him.
It was just me.
I’m here, a tiny voice inside me whispered. Always with you.
Even with so much distance between us, and the emptiness in my chest, I could still pinpoint where my soul met Byn’s.
And that would have to be enough.
Closing my eyes, head still tilted toward the sky, I focused on that tiny glow of green buried deep in my chest. I used it to center myself around, keeping myself grounded to the present moment and not letting my zirilium overpower me, but the other way around.
Weather zirilium felt like thunder in my veins—like pure power. I took a deep breath and swiftly severed the connection with it before the urge to use that power got the best of me.
The thunder ceased instantly, and as I opened my eyes, I watched as the clouds began to disperse within moments.
I was smiling to myself with pride when the first wave of exhaustion hit.
“Hey, Rayven?” I asked, my eyelids drooping.
“Yes?” he responded, turning away from where he had been looking at the sky above.
“Catch,” I said, right before the next wave of bone-deep exhaustion hit, taking me into its dark abyss with it.
The sensation of falling followed me into my dreams.
***
I slept until late in the evening.
When I awoke, Matea and Rayven were—once again—arguing. Only this time it was over how much rest I needed in order to carry on, since we were on a bit of a time crunch.
Once I’d diffused the situation between them and reassured them both that I was fine, that I had just pushed myself too hard, too quickly, we focused on what our next steps were.
We were less than a day away from Hollis now, but if there were patrols at the border, we reasoned that there were likely more around the North’s capitol, too.
With this in mind, we divided the last of our rations, covered any traces of us we left in the small cave, and headed toward Hollis in the dead of night.
We traveled by foot while it was dark and hopped from shadow to shadow during the day.
There had been a number of patrol groups surrounding the outskirts of Hollis, but none of them seemed to be looking toward the swift, dark shadows gliding by in the edges of their vision.
As we neared the edges of the town, I could feel the energy waning more and more in my sun stones. I could only imagine Matea and Rayven were feeling it too. Not to mention, my moon stones were nearly depleted after the storm I’d wielded yesterday.
My theories were confirmed once we reached the very far edges of Hollis, where we materialized and paused in a rundown, abandoned looking griffin stable.
“We’ll have to charge them now, before the sun sets,” Rayven said, slipping his left glove off and setting it on top of a rock in direct sunlight.
Matea and I followed suit, sliding our sun stone holding gloves off and setting them next to Drayven’s. Mine held five stones, while Matea’s held three—shadows, crystals, and plants, if I remembered correctly.
All nine stones were dim, drained of their color and so unlike the usual golden stones I was accustomed to seeing. Sun and moon stones didn’t require a charge too often—it depended more on how often they were used. But even the moon stones on my other hand were dull without their silvery sheen.
“We’ll have to stay a little while after dark, too,” I mentioned while motioning to my moon stones.
“Right,” Rayven agreed, nodding.
I looked towards Matea, who had not yet said a word since we arrived, and noticed she was looking toward the tavern in the distance.
“Is that it?” I asked. Tammy’s Tavern—the place where my sister had seen a portrait of our mother after being told for years that she had died in the war.
The portrait that changed everything for her.
Matea nodded, and I could tell by her expression what it was she needed.
“Let’s go,” I said softly to her.
At that she turned to me, a quizzical look on her face.
“I want to see it, too,” I clarified.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea…” Rayven said hesitantly.
“Stay or go, it affects me little, Rayven. But we are going.” I looped my arm through Matea’s and headed out of the stable.
I heard Rayven sigh, then felt his shadow clinging to me a moment later.
It wasn’t that wielders needed their sun or moon stones to wield, or to even sense the elements around them.
The stones simply helped with control and strength over what zirilium a fae wields.
And as shown by his mastery tattoo that snaked over the skin of his right arm, Rayven was an expert in shadow wielding—with and without his sun stone.
Matea and I crept our way to the edge of the tavern, standing along the back wall of the building.
There was a small series of windows, thin but tall, that Matea waved me over toward.
Following her lead, and wishing to the Stars that she knew what she was doing, I met her next to the first window, where we both crouched into the shadows of the slanted roof overhead.
Rayven stirred, then quickly departed—he stayed near enough that if we needed him, he’d be there, but he seemed to understand that we would need a private moment.
Matea, deliberately ignoring Rayven’s departure, peered into the window, her hazel eyes instantly catching sight of what we came here for.
Coming up to the other side of the glass panes, I followed my sister’s line of sight until I, too, saw it.
Father and Mother’s portrait was hung near the fireplace on the far wall, closer towards the entrance of the tavern.
They were both dressed in royal attire—crowns, multiple layers of clothes made of silk and satin, and both had a broach pinned to them with the Heartshire family crest on it.
What stood out the most, though, was their expressions.
Father didn’t look quite as harsh as I remembered him—as though being in Mother’s presence put him at ease, to a degree.
The opposite could be said for Mother. I always remembered her as relaxed and calm, but next to Father, she looked like she’d rather chew her own arm off than stand beside him. She looked anxious, on edge, and knowing what I knew today about how Father was, I couldn’t say I blamed her.
After a few moments of us both silently studying the portrait from afar, Matea asked softly, “What was she like?”
I wasn’t entirely stunned by the question, but I still took my time answering.
“One time, we had a wild female griffin show up just outside of the castle grounds. Her and I found it while playing in the forest behind the castle. It seemed violent at first, but upon closer inspection, we found that she was in the early stages of labor—she was about to welcome her grifflings to the world. Mother immediately set off to help. She sent me to gather a small list of supplies—stuff that nobody would notice went missing—and she stayed for hours, helping the griffin in any way she could. Mother constructed a small home, dug out from the ground, for her to give birth in, and stayed for hours even after she’d had all her babies.
Meanwhile, she kept me busy with small tasks, so I could feel helpful, too.
“Mother wasn’t Northern—she had no connection to our griffins, and even then, she’d never met this griffin before that moment, anyway.
But she saw another living creature in need, and she stepped up.
She did that with everything and everybody she came across—she stepped up and helped in any way she could.
” I paused. “She’s who I thought of when I gave those pieces of silver to that female.
She was gentle, and kind, and so, so caring.
Even after whatever happened to her for her to end up as the Queen of the North, she didn’t lose those qualities.
And I aspire to be more like her each and every day. ”
By the time I finished speaking, a single tear had streaked down my sister’s cheek.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Thank you,” Matea said, cutting me off and meeting my gaze. “For sharing that piece of her with me.”
She reached out and lightly gripped my bare hand in hers before standing and carefully making her way back to the abandoned stable.
I watched her go as the sun began to set, then looked back toward the portrait inside.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been crouched there, but eventually, as twilight set in, Rayven materialized next to me. He slowly, as though giving me the opportunity to stop him if I so pleased, poked his head into the frame of the window and peered toward the portrait.
Looking back to me after a moment, he said, “If your sister is right, and she really is still out there, we’ll find her.”
“I know,” I agreed. “I won’t stop until we do.”
A little while later, we found ourselves back at the stable.
The three of us had once again adorned our gleaming sun stone gloves, while my moon stone one took their place.
And while my moon stones gained energy from the moon above, I gained energy from the determination settling into my bones.
With each of our next steps we planned, my resolve solidified.
I’d find my twin soon.
And that interaction would change everything, one way or another.