84. Keldarion
84
Keldarion
L ooking down at the battle from atop the hill, I know we arrived not a minute too soon.
The usually golden field before Coppershire glimmers with white frost. Autumn’s soldiers are pushed to the wall, their own dead rising up against them.
And Perth Quellos still lives.
Eirik Vargsaxa, captain of the Kryodian Riders, comes up beside me, his moose glimmering in silver-blue armor. “On your command, my Prince.”
With the full might of Winter’s most valiant cavalry, I let loose a cry and surge down the hill. The Riders follow me, charging upon the living dead with claw and tooth. An owl screeches from above as its rider lobs flaming arrows. The Autumn troops stagger backward as we flow across the battlefield, their stunned expressions finally registering that we’re here to help. They throw their swords up in cheer.
With one hand, I hold tight to the reins of my steed, and with the other, I hack the heads off any wraiths in my path. There’s no sign of Farron or Quellos amidst the chaos.
A familiar glint of dark metal catches my gaze, and I usher my reindeer forward. With a single swing, I cleave the wraith facing off against Ezryn in two. His armor is streaked with frost and blood.
He tilts his head up at me. “Little late to the party.”
“Fashionably so.”
We hold each other’s gazes for a moment and then he gives that familiar shake of his helm, the one that lets me know there’s a smile deep behind the metal.
“Come on.” I hold down my arm to him. “Let’s find my vizier.”
He swings up behind me on the reindeer. “Is an I-told-you-so in order?”
“If I let you kill him, are we even?”
Ezryn snorts, and I take that as a yes. “I last saw Farron heading for the center high ground.”
I redirect my steed and snap the reins. We ride, weaving between soldiers and wraiths alike.
Ezryn’s breath is heavy. “You couldn’t have told us you were leaving to go get aid instead of just running off?”
My shoulders stiffen, and I’m glad he can’t see my face. “I wasn’t sure I could convince the Riders to follow me. I didn’t want you to count on me if I failed.”
Ezryn sighs. “Come on, Kel. We can always count on you.”
I stay silent, focusing on maneuvering through the conflict. Two giant polar bears crush a small horde of wraiths beneath their massive bodies, their riders swinging flaming swords at the ones that scramble out. My reindeer leaps over a fallen frosted horse.
“We’re never going to find him in this chaos—” I begin when I feel it. That terrible, nagging thing in my chest. That thing I wish I could rip out. She’s here.
I dig my heels into the side of the reindeer, the rest of the battle fading away as I follow that tether.
“There!” Ezryn yells, pointing.
Up ahead, at the base of the central hill, are our brothers. Dayton fights sword to spear with Perth Quellos, while Farron’s got one hand on a scroll, the other desperately clinging to his chest. And beside him, standing radiant and strong, is Rosalina.
That cursed woman.
Fury and terror surge within me seeing her here in the middle of a battle. She was supposed to be in the keep, away from all this!
But Rosalina can’t follow orders if her life depends on it.
Which it does right now.
Cursed, cursed woman!
Ezryn growls. “Let’s fucking kill him.”
I click my tongue and the reindeer lowers its antlers. With a roar, my great steed charges straight into my vizier, sending him flying.
I pull to a stop, and Ezryn and I jump from the animal.
“Kel,” Rosalina breathes, and I turn to her. Gods Above and Below, she is beautiful. And despite the battle that rages around us, there’s no fear on her face, only determination. I fight the urge to grab her in my arms and—
“It can’t be.” Ezryn’s voice. He collapses to the ground beside a body, and my heart tightens. Princess Niamh.
Green glows from Ezryn’s hands, but even I can see it’s too late. She’s gone. The only consolation is that Quellos’s unnatural magic has yet to animate her corpse like the other soldiers.
“You came.”
Farron stands before me, a flat expression on his face. I grip him around the back of his neck. “As long as I draw breath, I will fight for you.”
“Yeah, well, let’s get to fighting then.” Dayton stands beside him, body drenched in blood. I inhale. It’s his own.
Quellos staggers to his feet.
“Your time is over,” I call to him, dragging my sword through the earth.
He bares his teeth and hisses, “Keldarion, cursed one, traitor. Beast of the Briar. I’m liberating Winter from your rule.”
“Liberating it with death.” I slam my foot upon his spear, shattering it. My family comes up beside me, and I feel their presence like a warm breeze. My brothers. My mate.
Quellos’s eyes flash. “Death would be better than serving under a monster such as you.”
I kick him in his chest, drawing my sword up over my head. “Then I shall grant your wish.”
I swing the blade down—
It smacks hard against ice. Quellos laughs, a shield of green frost between me and him. “Always the fool, Keldarion. I am not like you. I am so much more. I need not Winter’s Blessing or the Sword of the Protector, or even life itself. I am beyond it. I am greatness. I am—”
Something shoots forward: a purple thorn vine. I whirl. Caspian? But no. It flies from a coil around Rosalina’s wrist. The briar wraps around Quellos’s crown and draws it toward her. A horrific crunch sounds through the air. I reach for her but—
But I don’t need to. Quellos’s green crown lies beneath her boot.
“Everything you say is poison,” she snarls to the vizier and grinds her heel harder. A green mist oozes out from the crushed crystal. “You don’t get to hurt anyone else.” Her expression flashes with darkness. “There is no future for you in the Enchanted Vale.”
Her vines twist around the gnarled vizier, binding him in a vice of thorns. He struggles against the hold, but without his cursed magic, he’s nothing but a weak old man.
I will not suffer this traitor to live. I rise my sword above my head—
Farron grabs my arm. “Wait,” he says. “We should take him alive to question him about this sorcery.”
With a heavy grunt, I lower my arm. Farron’s right. My former vizier can rot in a cell for the rest of eternity for all I care.
“The crown is broken but the wraiths live,” Ezryn says, drawing our attention back to the fight. Though the cavalry has handled a great number of them, our troops are retreating, the undead too plentiful.
“There’s another crown,” Farron says. “Rosalina and I saw someone else wearing one at the war camp.”
Ezryn spins around. “No sign of him now. You must use the spell to rest the dead again.”
A horrified emptiness takes over Farron’s face. “My magic is depleted. I’ve got nothing left.”
A desperate fear spreads throughout us. I turn, staring out at the battlefield. Our soldiers scream, a new panic lacing their features as they are attacked by their own comrades. Many abandon their posts, sprinting toward the city walls.
No, it can’t have all come to this. My family has given up everything. I brought the Kryodian Riders to their doom. Farron has lost his mother. There has to be a way for us to fix this—
“Take my magic.”
We look to Dayton. Blood paints the blond hair hanging over his shoulders, and his chest heaves, but there’s a strength to him, a strength that reminds me of his older brother, the former High Prince of Summer.
Dayton cups Farron’s face. “Take my magic, Fare. Take it and end this.”
Farron shakes beneath his touch. “What are you talking about? That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.” Dayton’s eyes turn steely. “Make a bargain with me.”
My chest heaves as I look between Dayton and Farron. The air is thick between them, as if the ancient magic of the world senses something powerful is about to happen.
“I can’t take your magic,” Farron breathes.
“Trust him,” I say and look down at Rosalina. “Not all bargains are evil.”
It was, in fact, a bargain with this stubborn, tenacious woman that gave hope to Castletree.
She smiles up at me, eyes shining with tears. “And not all who make bargains are evil.”
The thorn and snowflake tattoo on my wrist seems to sing, and I wrap my hand around it. But my doubt dissipates as I see the expression on her face. She’s looking at Farron and Dayton with pure affection. As if their happiness is her happiness.
There’s the ting of a sword as Ezryn leaps forward, blocking a charging wraith. “You alone can save us, Farron. It doesn’t matter what we say. Trust yourself!”
The wraiths have sensed us, their bodies still fleshy and fae-like. I draw my sword, stepping in front of Dayton and Farron. “We’ll protect you.”
Purple vines erupt out of the ground, roiling like waves. Rosalina shoots a look over her shoulder at Farron as the thorns swallow up three wraiths. “For the Autumn Realm.”
Farron’s eyes gleam. “For you all.” He places his hand over Dayton’s. “Let’s make a bargain.”