Chapter 25 – Isolde
ISOLDE
With my sister at my side, I stood outside the gates of Myrr, my body and heart weary from travel and blood loss.
Though Astril’s ministrations helped, King Tholin’s injury had been so dire that Thyra and I had required the constant use of Sassa’s Blade to keep the wound shut as we traversed the mountains. We’d both given much of ourselves and were feeling the repercussions two whole days later.
Not far away, Bavirra and Thordur assisted the injured soldiers of Dergia on Rynni’s back.
There was no denying that these dwarves were among the few with injuries so severe that they’d never fight again.
Much like their king, their lives had been forever changed by the battle with the frost giants.
The dead? They were going too. Wrapped in soft, white linen, they had been placed in a large wooden box that the dragon would carry through the clouds.
We hadn’t even faced off with King Magnus yet and already my first allies had experienced great losses. And that wasn’t the only alliance that had been affected.
Lord Balik had yet to utter a single word to me or Thyra.
Right after the battle, he’d made it clear that he was flying ahead of the armies—getting a severely concussed Filip back home.
No one questioned that the lord had wanted to help his heir, though I suspected that wasn’t the only reason the high lord had left Sian in charge.
My stomach soured at the memory. Had our failure to trust Lord Balik with the truth cost us everything?
Vale assured me it had not. After all, Lord Balik had not kicked us out of his city, and the Warden of the South couldn’t deny that our magic had turned the tides. No, the stoic Lord Balik was simply ignoring us.
The final injured dwarf mounted the dragon and Bavirra and Thordur fell back to stand with my twin and me. Together we watched as the dragon and the gryphon riders rose in the air and banked east, back to Dergia.
Bavirra sighed. “May the winds take them swiftly home.”
“Indeed.” Her brother’s eyes were red, as they had been so often these last days.
My throat tightened. I’d apologized to the prince and princess many times for their losses. They’d expressed pain for the deaths of their people, but also acknowledged that casualties were expected. They’d agreed to war.
It was Bavirra who spoke the most haunting words. That in the end, we’d all lose someone we loved.
Thinking in that vein brought up another question. One I’d smothered time and time again, but it continued to flare to life whenever something went wrong. Back before I’d known who I was, back when a vampire prince hunted me, I’d bargained for Anna’s life.
What was that price for her life? Had I already paid it?
The past moons had been difficult. Sometimes heart-wrenching. But something told me that the answer was no. My debt remained and when I did have to pay, it would be awful indeed.
“Let’s go back.” Thyra’s hand brushed mine.
I glanced to the dwarves. They did not look inclined to leave. More like they wanted a moment to themselves.
“We’ll see you two at the castle,” I spoke softly.
“See you there,” Bavirra replied, her gaze still firmly on the dragon and the gryphon riders escorting her in the distance.
My twin and I turned to leave, and in doing so had to pass through a crowd of Dergians. Most were watching their friends leave, but some stared at us, anger on their faces. My stomach hardened. In the days since the battle, I’d overheard a few conversations.
Some from Dergia were already questioning if they should have left the safety of their rock. No such talk had come from Thordur or Bavirra, but I couldn’t help but wonder what the king thought.
“We need to go to the healing sanctuary,” I said once we passed through the city gates and our Valkyrja formed a circle around us.
“Why?” Thyra’s eyebrows pinched.
“The King of Dergia awoke this morning, and we need to speak with him. To make sure he’s not having second thoughts.”
“Don’t you think approaching Lord Balik would be more prudent?”
“When he’s ready to talk, he’ll let us know.”
“Not like you saved his heir or anything,” Thyra muttered.
True though her words were, I understood Lord Balik’s anger. Understood the frustration of anyone we’d kept secrets from.
Halladora had wanted an apology, which I thought brave of her, considering that she was under my command, but she wasn’t the only one. Sian, too, had demanded answers. Had questions. Of course I’d given them both whatever information I could.
And finally there was Thordur, who had watched me place a shadow wrap on his father’s leg. After his father had been placed in the healers’ sanctuary, he’d sought me out too. Bavirra at his side.
Others who’d seen had not approached me, but instead spoke to Sian or Vale, two trusted warriors.
They had been sworn to secrecy for the time being, and Vale assured me that it wasn’t many fae.
Our forces had been separated from the larger battle, and life-threatening situations had a way of keeping fae focused on the fight in front of their faces.
When we reached the castle sanctuary it was quiet. Peaceful. Thank the stars for that. After returning to Myrr, the place had been a madhouse, the healers frantically seeing to the injured, others helping wherever they could.
I scanned the front room, the less private portion of the sanctuary where healers brewed potions and performed other tasks related to their work.
On the right side of the vast space was a large wooden carving of the eight-spoked wheel and four stars, the symbol of the healing goddess. No healers were readily available.
“Hello?” I called out, not wishing to go wandering and earn a healer’s ire.
“A moment!” someone replied from a private office reserved for the more senior healers. A short time later, none other than a Master Healer appeared.
She blinked when she saw us and hurried over, only to fall into a deep curtsey.
Her white chain necklace, complete with the healers’ wheel, swung in the air.
I’d learned from Rynni that a Master Healer needed only to wear the white chains, but they often added the wheel and stars to their attire to please their dead god.
“Princesses, I apologize for keeping you waiting.” The Master Healer was far younger than the one I’d met previously. With dark raven-wing hair and a youthful vigor about her, I doubted that she was even a century old.
“No apologies are necessary.” My cheeks warmed.
No longer was I unused to being called a princess, or others showing me deference, but when someone like this, someone who had worked tirelessly for turns to achieve a great title and to whom I owed quite a lot, and would likely keep owing with a war on the horizon, paid me the courtesy of my title, it always felt a bit silly.
“Has Rynni flown off already?” the healer asked.
“She has. Everyone is safely aboard her back,” I assured her. This healer had been one of the fae to patch the dwarves up enough so they would survive the flight.
“She was such a help to us. Astounding mind, that one.”
“We were hoping to speak to the King of Dergia,” Thyra cut in. “Is he awake?”
The healer smiled, and I sensed a fondness for the king that I could relate to. “I’ll show you to his room.”
We followed her to the far back of the expansive sanctuary, to a private room, as befit a king. She stopped at his door and knocked.
“Yes?” King Tholin’s voice came through the wood.
The Master Healer poked her head inside the room. “Princess Isolde and Princess Thyra are here to speak with you.” She cast a glance at our Valkyrja. “Possibly others too?”
“Just us,” Thyra said. “Our guard will wait outside.”
“Let them in.”
The Master Healer opened the door and waved us through. Thyra went first, but I paused and leaned closer to the healer.
“Is Filip well?” I hadn’t dared ask to see the heir to the southlands. Not when his father was still so furious with us.
“He was moved to his own quarters this morning. Two healers are by his door, but I doubt he’ll call for them. The lad is feeling fine and has never been one to have others pander to him.”
“Thank you.” I made a split decision to ask another question. One that had been weighing on me since we’d inadvertently freed King érebo. “Do you see many babies born in the castle?”
The healer blinked at the odd question. “A few. Three were born in the last two weeks, a set of twins and a single youngling, all to servants.”
I had a hunch that the Shadow King had been helping to strengthen the blight by pushing his darkness into the network of Drassil trees—a great source of magic.
When my family had fallen from power, the blight had gotten worse, maybe because Magnus had not known of the darkness woven into our realm.
Maybe because King Magnus hadn’t had the proper tools to protect the kingdom.
Or perhaps he was simply too weak or not favored by the Faetia to keep the magic balanced.
“Those babes were born without issue?” I asked, not wishing to get too deep into my theories with a healer I didn’t know.
“Yes.”
“And in the wider city?” I hesitated to ask one more question, but I needed to know. “Have babes been born healthy? Younglings remained so?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” the Master Healer answered slowly.
“We’ve had quite a run of healthy births.
Fewer illness too. I haven’t seen anything like it in many turns.
” She tilted her head in a manner that made me think she was considering what else to say, but what she said next, I never would have guessed.
“Did you know I worked at Frostveil Castle?”
“How long ago?”
“Ten turns back I came here, but before that I worked in the capital.”
“You knew my family then.”
“Your mother in particular. She studied at the White Tower at the same time I did. We weren’t in the same classes, but seeing as she was from a prominent noble house, I knew her. Everyone did.”
I cast a glance at Thyra, who was listening.
“When I began working at the castle, your father had been king for some time. I didn’t know him well, but well enough to see some of them both in you.
To compare you to the current king, as well.
” She inhaled deeply. “I wasn’t sure, you see, because of how King Harald ended, but these questions and your care for others helps to relieve my fears that if you win the war, more will be hurt in that castle. In that kingdom too.”
“You mean hurt in the way my father did?” Stars, more than anything I wanted to tell her the truth, but I held my tongue.
“And King Magnus. I was charged with patching up many more of his victims than the late King Harald. The fae in the royal harem, mostly.” She shuddered. “In the early days of Magnus’s reign, those poor females were horribly used and abused.”
I swallowed, remembering the time I’d been to the harem. How awful it had been to bear witness. Even Roar had thought so, and though he’d twisted a lot of truths, I did not think he’d been pretending that night. “I’ve seen it. And I hope to free those fae. End that practice.”
“That’s very good to hear.”
“Sister?” Thyra interjected. I’d taken too long.
“Thank you,” I said to the healer as I entered the king’s quarters.
The door snicked shut behind me, and I found the King of Dergia sitting up, a tired smile on his face. He appeared cleaned up and groomed, his blond hair brushed back and tied with a leather strap.
“I’m afraid I can’t welcome you properly, but please, take a seat.” He gestured to two of the four chairs that surrounded his bed.
I settled into one next to Thyra and smiled at my ally. “How are you?”
“Alive, and thankful for it.”
My throat tightened. He wouldn’t have been injured if we weren’t allies. If he hadn’t yoked his fate to mine.
“I’m so sorry.” I glanced briefly at his leg, lost at the knee. It felt impolite to look, even if it was raised to avoid swelling.
“For saving my life?”
I blinked.
The king laughed. “You think I don’t know exactly what you did, Isolde? How your shadows held me together, and your vampire helped? I know and, despite my state, I do not regret my actions. Nor what you did to save me.”
Thyra’s lips pursed. “You’ll never fight again, King. Might not do a lot of things you relished. I can’t understand not regretting that, at least a little.”
King Tholin’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and I was reminded once again how easy he was to like. To want to be friends with. “You’re young and have much life left.”
“You do too,” I said. Fae could live for centuries upon centuries, and while there was gray in his beard, he was nowhere close to ancient.
“I recognize that my life will not be as it once was. Truth be told, the moment I allied with you, I hoped it would not be. To lose something so small for a new life, a new world—for my people to walk beneath the sky whenever they wish—it’s worth this small price.” He gestured to his leg.
“So you will still call us allies?”
The king’s lips parted, but he recomposed his features quickly. “You thought I’d change my mind?”
“You lost so many, and the war hasn’t begun.”
“Yes it has,” Thyra countered. “Just because we haven’t met Magnus on a field of battle doesn’t mean we’re not already at war, sister. The wheel has begun to turn. There’s no going back.”
“She’s right,” the king said. “And I knew, as every soldier who joined me in the tunnels knew, that we’d lose some among us. Despite that sad fact, no Isolde, I do not regret my choice. I’m a dwarf, as steadfast and loyal as the rock I have lived beneath for all my life.”
He’d said something to that effect before, back when things had been easier. When the losses had been less. I’d believed him then, but since then, I’d wavered. I’d questioned.
But the king in the bed had not.
Looking upon the king’s face and seeing Thyra study me, I realized I had only one choice. To move forward.
“Thank you.” I reached out, took the king’s hand. “Thank you so very much.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you fill me in on these shadow powers you have acquired? I’d like the whole story.”
“Thordur was the one to tell you?” I asked.
“I would not believe that vampire blood alone saved me. I forced the prince. Don’t blame him if he wasn’t supposed to.”
I shrugged. Blaming Thordur was the farthest thing from my mind.
“It started in the cavern where you saved us,” Thyra said, and I leaned back, content to let my sister tell the tale.