38. Chapter 37
Chapter 37
W hen I tell Keeper Enaria I am leaving, she threatens to lock me in the very shelter we built to protect our people. Even as I explain my reasoning—that The Grove will never truly be safe until The Golden Son is destroyed—she begs me not to return to Baev’kalath. But there is no other choice. All Fae have fled, only the Mordorin remains, and the humans of the Sundered Kingdoms either join the ranks of the Legion or die at the edge of their swords. I could never muster a human army strong enough to challenge him.
This is the only path forward, but it is fraught with challenges.
To take control of the houses, Kaelus and Lanneth must be dethroned, and an heir must ascend. I had hoped it would be Daedalus, but once again, I find myself torn between my love for him and the knowledge that he is a volatile weapon, one that could turn on me at any moment. But the thought of Zyphoro as queen gives me pause.
Convincing Solena is nearly as difficult as persuading Keeper Enaria.
“I thought you would want to return to see Orios,” I say, sitting across from her in my room while Ashen weaves between her legs.
“I do,” she replies quickly, as if uttering anything else would be blasphemous. “But I’m scared, Amara. What if it doesn’t go as planned? What if Lanneth captures us?” Her voice trembles. “I do not want to die.”
Her words strike me hard, pure and heavy, making me question whether I’m doing the right thing. Solena told me that Fae are not immortal. That they die quite well, and I have seen that. Souls have I seen that, and so has she. That is when I truly understand the difference, that immortality and invincibility are two different things.
“Do you want to stay here? In The Grove?” I ask. “You’re welcome to. The Tenders will gladly take you in.”
She shakes her head abruptly. “No. I can’t stay. I am Fae. I don’t belong here. Not really. I’m just scared.”
I reach out and grip her hand. “So am I. But I can’t let that stop me. If anything is going to change in this world, I need to be the one to change it.”
Solena exhales wearily. “How can you be so brave?”
I shrug and offer her a comforting smile, hoping to ease her worries. “I never had a choice when I was named Jewel of the Tenders, or when I became a Sister of the Vine, or when Keeper Tovar sent me away to marry a Fae prince. Even now, I still don’t have a choice. I have to be brave. Otherwise, all is lost.”
“Aren’t you tired, though?” Solena asks. “Tired of having to be?”
My smile falters, but I force it to remain. “I’m exhausted. But I can rest when it’s over.”
Slowly, her expression softens. “ We can rest when it’s over.”
I nod. “ We .”
As I leave the room, I find Daedalus standing on the rope bridge, nursing his swollen jaw. His eyes, now clear swirls of gray, draw me in.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice muffled by the swelling.
“I know you are,” I reply, leaning against the doorframe. “But how many more times do we pretend this is normal?”
He dips his chin, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Every time, if possible.”
I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.
Daed releases a heavy breath, his tattooed fist gripping the railing of the rope bridge. “I promise I will do better, Amara. For you and our baby.”
His gaze drifts to my belly, and I instinctively shield it with my hands.
“It’s still early,” I say. “Anything can happen. I don’t even know for sure. Zyphoro could be wrong.”
“She’s not,” Daed says confidently, sending a shiver down my spine. “You carry an heir of the Mordorin with you. But I can’t tell yet if it’s a prince, a princess, or both. Twins run in my family.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” My eyes widen with worry at the idea, my face tightening.
A light laugh escapes Daed’s lips, and he bows his head. “No. Never.” He looks up from beneath his brow. “Never again.”
I exhale, shaking my head. “Never for now is all you can promise me.”
A lump forms in his throat, and he fights to swallow it. “Never for now, then.”
That will have to do. If I am to achieve the revenge I crave, I need Daed by my side. He is the most formidable warrior ever to step onto a battlefield, a powerful ally for my cause. I will see him crowned king of the Sundered Kingdoms.
“Shall we go claim a crown?” I ask him.
Daed’s fingers lace behind his neck. “My father won’t abdicate easily, and you know what Lanneth is capable of.”
“You’re the commander of the Ebon Flight. Will the Reapers and Blades take your side?”
Daed’s brow furrows as he considers. “Perhaps. But I can’t be sure. We may need reinforcements.”
“Who?” I ask. “From where?”
“Leave that to me,” Daed replies. “The remaining Blades and I will prepare the ship. The sooner we return to Baev’kalath, the better, before the king and queen receive too much information about what has happened here.”
“Yes. Let me say my goodbyes, and I’ll be ready to leave.”
Daed turns to go, but in an instant, he spins around, closing the distance between us in three strides. He cups my face in his hands, drawing me to his lips. He kisses me deep and long, stealing my breath and leaving my knees wobbling. What power does this man wield that I can shift from despising him to desiring him in the blink of an eye?
“I love you,” he whispers, and all sense slips away from me like dust in the wind.
“I love you, too,” I say.
He smiles, a radiant expression that lights up his entire face, his slate-gray eyes glimmering beneath the dappled sunlight. Stepping back, his wings burst from his back with a resounding snap, and he launches into the air, soaring high above, breaking through the canopy and showering me with a cascade of leaves.
As I reach the clearing and close my eyes, I’m transported to the shrine where my sisters are already waiting for me.
“You’re leaving,” Saren says, her voice a mixture of disappointment and concern. “Again.”
“I must,” I reply, desperation creeping into my tone. “I wish you could understand.”
Lira shakes her head in disbelief. “You have everything here, Amara. You are the Jewel. There is no greater honor among the Tenders.”
“There will be no Tenders if I do not go,” I assert firmly.
Mirael’s expression hardens with anger. “Then we forbid it. You cannot leave.”
“I’m not asking for your permission,” I counter, determination steeling my voice. “I came to bid you farewell and feel the warmth of our circle one last time.”
Mirael turns her back on me, a clear sign of her refusal, while Saren and Lira begin to relent.
“Will you return?” Saren asks, her voice softening.
“If everything goes well, then yes,” I reply with a light laugh, trying to bring some cheer to the moment.
Lira reaches for me, and I rush into her arms without hesitation.
“We love you, Amara,” she says, glancing over my shoulder at Mirael. “Especially Mirael.”
Reluctantly, Mirael turns and links hands with Saren, joining the circle. Our arms wrap around each other, our heads resting on one another’s shoulders. Energy surges through us, and once again I feel the power of our unbroken bond.
Mirael jerks back, startled. “Your power, Amara, it’s greater than I’ve ever felt.”
Lira frowns. “It’s that rune on her neck. Perhaps we should get one too.”
“It only works if you use High Fae blood in the ink,” I explain.
Saren grins. “Maybe we should get ourselves one of those as well.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” I laugh. “They’re very troublesome.”
“You love him, though?” Lira asks quickly.
I nod. “I do.”
“Then it’s worth all the trouble in the world,” Mirael says.
We hug once more, and as I step away, another ache settles into my heart, adding to my growing collection. When I return to The Grove, Zyphoro and Solena wait for me, and a sorrow falls over the Tenders as I farewell them a second time. I can barely meet their eyes, reminding myself that what I do is for their safety, no matter how much it pains me to leave.
Zyphoro grows impatient, tapping her heavy boot on the ground, and I wonder if she’s more eager for this fight than I am.
Bending down, I lift Ashen into my arms. He lets out a small cry, as if he too feels the weight of our departure. He crawls onto my shoulder, sinking into my hair, his little purrs tickling my ears.
“Ready?” Zyphoro asks, and when I nod, she sweeps me into her arms, her wings unfurling majestically behind her.
With a powerful push off the ground, we rise, watching as my people below shrink into tiny specks. We break through the canopy, emerging into the brilliant blue sky. The sun blazes down on me, and I close my eyes, allowing its warmth to seep into my bones. I will hold onto it, knowing that in Baev’kalath, the sun seldom shines to light the dark places.
The ship remains anchored where Arax dropped us, and it takes everything in me not to fall apart at the thought of him standing at the bow. I feel the ribbon tied around my wrist—a touchstone, a reminder of him during these hardest moments. I wonder if he knows that even now, he is protecting me.
Daed and the seven remaining Blades wait for us, and with the combined power of the siblings, the ship surges forward at twice the speed, waves of smoke racing alongside us across the still harbor toward the perilous Untold Sea.
As night falls, I lean against the railing, staring toward the approaching storm. The rain begins to fall lightly, but I know soon it will pour. Part of me feels a thrill at the thought of its icy sting against my skin once more.
Daed joins me, his arms snaking around my waist from behind, pulling me against his chest. He buries his face in my neck, his lips brushing softly toward my ear, until a screeching hiss sends him stumbling back.
Ashen leaps from my hair, landing deftly on the deck, his back arched, smoky fur bristling.
“How long has he been doing that?” Daed asks, clutching his chest.
“It’s his favorite spot,” I laugh as Ashen scuttles away in search of a more peaceful place to sleep. “When you made him for me, I assumed he was just a kitten, not a giant cat with tentacles.”
“He is neither,” Daed replies, cautiously returning his arms around me, wary of any other surprises lurking in my hair.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“He isn’t a kitten. He isn’t a lion. He’s something else entirely. A creature of the void. But he’s loyal to you, at least. I didn’t expect him to attack when I arrived in The Grove that night, but I did tell him to protect you when I made him, so perhaps that’s my fault.”
“He didn’t protect me from Lanneth,” I say, my voice tinged with frustration.
“Sometimes it takes longer for them to understand their form. He’ll grow stronger and shift forms more often now that he knows how.”
As we speak, the rain intensifies against my skin. The boat begins to rock, the waves pounding harder against the bow. Daed closes his eyes as the rain drips from his forehead down the bridge of his nose, and when it trickles onto his lips, he licks it away.
“It’s been some time since I’ve felt the rain.” He opens his eyes, looking down at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod without hesitation.
He smiles. “Very well, wife. I will see you soon.”
With that, Daed’s wings erupt from his back, and in an instant, he soars into the air, disappearing into the silvery-gray clouds.
Time passes slowly in his absence, but when an eternal night falls over the ship and thunder cracks overhead, splitting the sky with flashes of lightning, I know we have arrived.
The rain beats down relentlessly as the fortress of Baev’kalath looms on the horizon, a jagged silhouette waiting to swallow me whole. My heart thrums in my chest, a wild drumbeat of anticipation and dread. Death could very well await me within those stone walls, yet I can’t let fear take hold. No, I won’t allow it. I have come too far and lost too much to turn back now.
The cold wind whips through my hair, but the chill I feel is not from the elements. I remember Arax, and the pain of his loss aches in my chest. I can’t let his sacrifice be in vain. The thought of revenge fuels me, igniting a fire in my belly. I want to make The Golden Son pay for the destruction he’s wrought. I want justice for my people, for Arax, and for myself. The Mordorin have the power I need, and there is no other option but to take it from them.
With each passing wave, my resolve strengthens. I will not back down. I will not falter. I will claim my destiny. The fortress looms closer, and I can feel the energy crackling in the air, the anticipation building. I am ready.
I cast my eyes to the stormy sky, anxiety coiling in my stomach as I wait for Daed's return. His absence gnaws at me, and the worst fears creep in—what if something has happened? But I refuse to believe that any force in this world could take him down or keep him from me. My doubts about his loyalty may linger, but not his love. That Fae’s heart belongs to me, fractured as it is.
Zyphoro slinks across the deck, smoke enveloping her with each step, transforming her leathers into black-scaled armor adorned with jagged pauldrons and vambraces, a flowing cloak of midnight billowing behind her. Her moonstone necklace glimmers against the dark steel, and for the first time, her hair isn’t a mass of ebony curls but tightly braided against her scalp.
She stands beside me, her gray eyes fixed on Baev’kalath, before shifting to the seven Blades at the bow, their gaze darting back and forth between us, whispers escaping their lips.
“They mean to betray us,” Zyphoro says, a grin curling her lips. “As soon as we dock, they’ll flee to the fortress.”
“They’ve sworn loyalty to Daed,” I argue, but Zyphoro’s conviction doesn’t waver.
“They’re still the king’s Fae. As long as my father wears the crown, he commands the Ebon Flight.”
“But they fight alongside Daed in battle. Does that count for nothing?”
“The Blades are the finest warriors in the Sundered Kingdoms. Their strength is forged in loyalty. They couldn’t fight like they do without being devoted to their cause. They followed Daed in Valorne because he was sovereign there. But until he takes the crown from our father, Kaelus’ power is absolute in Baev’kalath.”
As the Blades turn their backs on us to cast their gazes toward the fortress, doubt settles in my gut. If the Ebon Flight doesn’t rally to their prince’s side, it leaves just the four of us—Daed, Zyphoro, Solena, and me—to face the might of House Mordorin. How can we possibly succeed?
Another crack of lightning splits the sky, illuminating the night like day, and a wall of Blades lines the courtyard, their faces obscured in the flickering dark, rain spraying against their armor. Solena emerges from below deck, her eyes wide with fear as she surveys the formidable presence of Baev’kalath's army.
“They knew we were coming,” I murmur.
“They knew,” Zyphoro replies. “And they feared it enough to be ready.” She glances up at the sky. “If my brother is waiting for a dramatic entrance, now would be the time.”
“He will come,” I assert, my voice ringing clear against the thunder. “All I need to do is call.”
Zyphoro exhales mockingly. “Then be quick about it, or we’ll be slaughtered before we even set foot off this damned boat.”
The ship rolls into port, and the smoke that guided us evaporates into nothingness.
“What should I do?” Solena asks, her usually steady tone trembling.
Zyphoro rolls her eyes. “Nothing. Stay below deck and pray that we survive.”
Solena shakes her head, determination burning in her gaze. “I want to fight.”
“You’re a low-caste maid. Unless you plan to hurl your feather duster at them, I’m not sure what you can offer.”
“Zyphoro,” I scold, narrowing my eyes. “If she wants to fight, then she will fight. Give her a weapon.”
Zyphoro glares at me before reluctantly extending her hand toward Solena. A slender black blade with a silver hilt materializes in her grip. “A weapon from the void,” she says, a hint of mockery in her voice. “May it serve you well.”
I refuse to let Zyphoro diminish Solena’s already dwindling resolve, especially since it was Solena who helped me escape Lanneth with nothing but her wits and bravery. Solena takes the sword, and as she holds it, I’m reminded of Arax and his words about Estra—not a noble or a High Fae, but a low-caste Fae, much like Solena. Estra rose to become a Blade, and if Solena wishes it, she can do the same.
“We will win this battle together,” I say, gripping her forearm.
“Or I will die by your side,” she replies solemnly. “Unafraid.”
I nod, a smile breaking through the dread tightening around my heart. “Unafraid.”
“Amara. Jewel of the Tenders,” a voice booms through the darkness. “Welcome home.”
I turn to find Kaelus standing on the balcony, the very image of authority.
“This is not my home,” I yell.
“Then why have you returned?” Kaelus taunts.
I muster my courage, feeling my resolve strengthen with the weight of everything that has brought me to this moment.
“For your crown,” I call back, venom lacing my words.
Kaelus laughs, but I refuse to be underestimated.
“Then I’m afraid this will not end well for you, my dear. But you still have worth. The bargain still holds, and you remain a desperately treasured princess of the Mordorin. Put aside this futile squabbling, and we will receive you with open arms.”
“You plan to kill me to further your own power!” I scream.
Kaelus pauses, lightning illuminating his face in a fleeting flash. “In this life, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. You know this better than most, Amara. But I promise, it will be without pain.”
“There is always pain,” I yell through gritted teeth. “But I have learned to embrace it, and I will gladly share it with you.”
Suddenly, my boldness falters as another lightning strike bathes Lanneth in an otherworldly, spectral glow, revealing her silhouette behind Kaelus.
“Daughter,” she hisses, her elegant face shimmering, her glamor intact. “Igniting this conflict is dangerous, and we cannot risk losing you—not with the precious cargo you carry.” Her hand stretches out, and even from this distance, I feel her malice reach for my stomach, chilling me to the core.
“How does she know?” I mutter.
“The void knows,” Zyphoro replies.
Solena furrows her brow. “Knows what?”
“Zyphoro. Daughter,” Kaelus calls, his voice steady amidst the rain.
Zyphoro turns her head toward him, droplets cascading down his face.
“You are welcome here, too. Join me, and House Mordorin will be the strongest house in all Fae history. Forget this foolishness and rule by my side.”
Silence hangs in the air, and I suddenly fear Zyphoro is wavering. She glances at Solena and me, doubt etched on her face.
“I still love you, daughter. Return to me, and be greater than your traitorous brother ever dreamed.”
Slowly, her gaze returns to Kaelus, and I hold my breath, waiting for her response.
“Why rule beside you when I can just take the whole fucking thing?”
With a swift motion, Zyphoro extends her hand, and an arrow of smoke streaks through the air, aimed straight for Kaelus. He barely has time to react as the sharp tip pierces the side of his neck, blood erupting from the wound and spraying Lanneth’s face, soaking her ivory gown.
“Damn it. Missed,” Zyphoro hisses.
Kaelus drops to one knee, clamping a hand over his neck as Lanneth screams, her voice a high-pitched wail that echoes like a chorus of tortured souls, hollow and endless, as if drawn from the void itself.
“Bring her to me!”
A wave of black wings erupts into the air, the thunderous snap drowning out the storm as the Blades take flight.
“This is it,” I murmur, swallowing the last vestiges of doubt that threaten to choke me.
There’s no time for hesitation now.
The Blades on the bow turn toward me, and I brace myself for their treachery. But instead, they draw their swords, the metallic ring resonating in unison.
“For Princess Amara!” one bellows as they unleash their wings, soaring to meet their brothers and sisters in battle.
Zyphoro’s lips curve into a smirk. “Guess I was wrong. Excellent.” Her eyes widen at the flood of Blades pouring from the fortress, surging toward the ship. “But now would be a good time to call for Daedalus.”
To delay the attack, Zyphoro conjures a wall of smoke that erupts between the advancing Blades and the ship, soaring skyward and halting them in their tracks. But I know it won’t last.
I look to the stormy sky, rain pelting my face and wind whipping through my hair. With every ounce of my heart—my fear, my passion, my strength—I call into the night, “Daed!”
Suddenly, the sound of wings on the wind silences everything else, and when I glance east, I see a wave of warriors descending upon Baev’kalath, with Daed at the forefront and a Fae lord sporting a shock of copper hair at his side. Lord Reon and the warriors of Eyr’Drogul have joined our fight, and as they clash with the Ebon Flight, their fury tears apart the night, forcing the storm to tremble before them.