Chapter Twenty-Six
The light from the rising dawn outside made its way through the small slits in the stone tower just often enough to become annoying as it repeatedly blinded me. Squinting, I continued up and up and up the steps of the tower I’d found Mother in just a few days ago.
Val and I had stayed in Neokell longer than I’d intended, and now I was paying the price.
My advisors back in Hollis had sent word through a series of messengers over the past few days, practically demanding me to return home.
It seemed the longer I allowed them to stew over our recent loss in the war, the more they wanted revenge.
Not that I was against plotting our next moves—I just had other things that needed my attention at the moment, too.
The stairs leveled out below me as I came to the small landing before the ornate door at the top of the tower.
I looked down at the tray in my hands, which was nearly overflowing with different fruits and pastries and meats.
I wasn’t sure Mother could even make it down to the bottom of the tower in her condition—she was beyond thin and weak—let alone the journey back to Hollis, if she chose to accompany me.
Keeping my steps light, I approached the door. With the tray in one hand and the keys in the other, I realized I should’ve been excited to see my mother again, who laid just on the other side of the door.
But instead, I hesitated.
In that moment, I wished Father were still with me. He’d likely have an explanation as to why he’d done this to his wife.
Instead, I was being forced to navigate the situation myself—with Father’s vague, mostly irrelevant journal entries to guide me, and nothing else besides my wretched heart.
Steadying my breathing, I slipped the key into the door.
Stepping into the space, I used the heel of my boot to crack the door behind me. My eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, quickly spotting Mother sitting against the far wall.
“Good morning,” I said, feeling a tad awkward.
“Dimitri,” she responded, though she made no effort to draw closer.
Cringing internally, I slowly made my way over to her. “For you,” I said as I placed the tray of food on the cold ground before her.
When she hesitated, eyeing it suspiciously, I sighed and sat in front of her.
“This is the food I was served this morning. I brought it straight here—it hasn’t been tampered with.” I leaned over and plucked a berry off the tray, popping it into my mouth. “See?”
Mother waited another moment before also picking up a berry and biting into it. She groaned as the flavors hit her tongue.
“I see they bring you the best of the lot,” she said, picking up a slice of meat next.
“I would hope so. I am their king, after all.” A faint smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
“Of course,” Mother agreed, and we lapsed into a semi-comfortable moment of quiet while she ate to her heart’s desire.
“You know, I thought I’d scared you away for good.
It’s been a few days.” Mother gently pushed the tray back a bit, signaling that she’d eaten her fill.
It hadn’t been much, but if we were going off how skinny she appeared, then I imagined she didn’t get fed as often as she should’ve been in her time locked up.
It would take time for her to adjust.
“I just… needed a little time to think, is all.” I ran a hand gingerly through my hair, pushing it back.
“I hope that helped,” she said, sounding genuine.
I nodded, but didn’t say anything more.
“Have you considered my offer? To train you?” she asked after a moment, her tone as gentle as I’d always remembered it being.
It was difficult, trying to convince my mind that this was the same female who sometimes visited my dreams at night.
She spoke and acted how I remembered, but she looked worse for wear.
Not to mention, there had to be a catch at some point.
She’d been locked away and forgotten about for nearly a decade and a half—there was no way that hadn’t begun to affect her after a while.
Despite my skepticism, she was still my mother, though. And some bonds were not so easily broken.
I had to try.
It wasn’t like I had anything more to lose, anyway.
“Yes,” I responded, “I have.”
“And?”
At that, I stood and began to pace the small space, my anxiety obvious.
“I have some requirements,” I said, not looking her way.
She sat up straighter than before. “Let’s hear them.”
I curled my hands into fists at my side to keep from wringing them together as I paced.
“I would like for you to do more than train me,” I started.
When she didn’t object, I carried on. “I would have you leave this tower and join me at Gatlyn Castle. You would remain there, but unseen and unheard by almost everyone. You’d be a shadow, if you will.
I would keep you clothed, fed, and healed, but you must remain hidden.
Also, aside from training my zirilium, I’d like to consult you whenever I please about anything I please.
You would act as an advisor of sorts. I imagine you must know more about the South and their weaknesses than I, so together, we will defeat them once and for all. ”
I paced as I spoke, the possibilities in my mind becoming endless.
Yes. That would work.
It had to.
When Mother deigned to answer, I paused my steps and cast my gaze towards her.
Her expression had been carefully crafted into neutrality, as though it was a look she’d practiced often. Eventually, her shoulders sagged slightly, and she loosened a soft breath, as if she’d already come to terms with her fate.
“So?” I inquired.
I wanted to know what she was thinking.
It was times like these that I wished I’d had my twin’s gift of naturally being able to read fae as easily as the books she’d loved so dearly.
Ever so slowly, she got to her feet and stood, pushing off the wall so as not to lean on it. The alychite chains around her ankles clattered together as she moved, but she didn’t seem to notice as she tilted her chin up to meet my gaze.
And when she finally spoke, she said exactly what I’d been hoping to hear.
“When do we leave?”
***
Dusk fell over all of Neokell swiftly. The sound of hammers and pickaxes hitting stone echoing off the surrounding landscape quieted as the encampment’s residents made their descent down the mountain.
Each day, they repeated the same routine.
They woke up before dawn and ate before the sun rose, headed up the mountain that housed the old mineshaft, labored the entire day away by collecting the very material used to trap them there, trekked back down the mountain for their second puny meal of the day, and then they were sent to the cabins and the surrounding areas to rest for the night.
And then they rose the next day, simply to do it all over again—adults and children alike.
It sounded fairly miserable, but considering the vast majority of the fae kept at the camp were Southerners, I couldn’t find it in me to care all that much.
Though, I didn’t feel guilty for the Northerners forced into that camp, either.
They were solely ones that had done something wrong and got caught—from petty crimes to murder.
Each Northerner who was there had also had their wings clipped to stop any escape attempts from happening.
After that, there was no chance of them flying to their freedom.
I caught sight of the moon through the tower’s slits, realizing that most of the encampment’s inhabitants had hit the hay after their long day of labor already.
Which meant it was time to get going.
I looked down toward the final stretch of the spiral staircase within the tower, careful to keep a firm grip on Mother—just in case. She was still weak, and the tower was extremely tall; the stairs had been a challenge in themselves for her to get down in one piece.
Once we stepped onto level ground again, Mother let out a soft huff, as though relieved. Val stood next to the only door that led in or out of the structure, guarding it exactly as I’d ordered.
Val and I had both dressed in riding leathers.
Mine were so black I realized I’d blend in against Ziana with ease, while Val’s had been colored a dark shade of maroon—the same as before, but with no brown in her outfit that time.
We both had various weapons strapped to us, and if all had gone as planned on Val’s end, both of our griffins should be right outside with the rest of our things.
My Right Hand’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of my mother, but I didn’t have time to attempt reading into her expression. We needed to get going.
Still gently holding onto Mother, I guided her towards the exit.
The clinking sound of the alychite cuff still around her ankle echoed throughout the space, but I did my best to block it out.
I wanted to trust Mother, but Father’s voice haunted me from the corners of my mind, causing me to still be a tad hesitant.
With the alychite still touching her skin, at least I knew I could get her back to Hollis with little to no disruptions.
When Mother caught a glance of Val in the dim lighting, she said softly, “Thank you.”
Though they hadn’t officially met, I’d filled Mother in on who Val was, how we’d met, and her newfound position as my Right Hand. With that fresh in her mind, Mother didn’t need an introduction to know who the female before her was.
Nor did Val need one to know exactly who I was helping to hold up.
Val dipped her head in response, though I wasn’t sure Mother could make out the movement with so little light. As we came to stand beside Val, she slipped out of the tower to ensure we could get out of there without causing a commotion.
I didn’t want to be present when the guards realized their most dangerous prisoner had gone missing.
Besides, I’d left a note.
Good enough, I thought.
It wasn’t as though I owed those fae anything, anyhow.
“Did everything go as planned?” I directed my question towards Val.
“Yes.” She nodded. “The griffins were easy enough to slip out of the stables, and we should have another few moments before the next set of guards shows up. After that, nobody should enter the tower until after the sun rises. By that time, we’ll be well on our way back to Hollis.”
“Perfect.” I kept one arm around my mother as I guided all three of us out of the tower for the first, and last, time.
Outside in the brisk mountain air, Mother and I stuck to the shadows as we made our way over to Ziana. Looking back briefly, I noted that Val was diligently on task as she secured the door to the tower so it looked as though we’d never been there.
A few feet from my griffin, though, Mother paused, her feet no longer helping to carry her forward. Just as I was about to express how important it was that we keep moving, I saw the look on her face, which was pointed up towards the sky.
“Mother?”
“I wished to the Stars every day to see them again,” she said, her voice shaking. “I guess they heard me after all.”
I swallowed thickly at her words, pushing down the emotions I’d been avoiding since the last time I’d seen my twin.
Clearing my throat after a moment, I murmured a soft, “Let’s go,” and continued walking Mother toward Ziana.
By the time I’d gotten her settled onto the back of Ziana’s saddle, Val was heading our way.
“We’re all set to head out,” she said as she approached.
“Good. Let’s get flying, then. There’s nothing left for us here, anyway.” I turned to face Ziana, but when I didn’t hear Val moving to mount Dax, I turned back towards her.
I was correct—she hadn’t moved. She was looking back over her shoulder, in the direction of the tower and the cabins beyond it. Her expression appeared sullen, though I couldn’t be sure why.
“Valenia,” I hissed suddenly, causing her to jump as whatever trance she’d been trapped in was broken by the sound of my voice.
“My apologies,” she responded quickly, shaking her head slightly as though the movement would help her refocus on the task at hand.
With that, she made her way over to the griffin she’d borrowed from my castle stables back home and hopped up into the saddle.
As I did the same, Mother looped her arms around my middle and held on firmly despite her thin stature. Her face was still tilted toward the sky, and a small part of me was a bit excited that we were about to be airborne, so she could be that much closer to the Stars she seemed to adore so much.
“Hold on tight,” I advised Mother, then dug my heel into Ziana’s flank, causing her to leap into the air and soar upward.
I knew the journey would take longer than it usually did, as I assumed Mother would need more frequent stops than I was accustomed to.
But the resounding awe in her watering eyes each time I looked over my shoulder seemed to make it all worth it as I watched her rediscover the world that had missed her for over a decade.