Epilogue #2
It would have been easier to hate him if he’d been a deplorable leader–and if Evie herself hadn’t forgiven him. He apparently was also a very good friend.
All that was left for me to do was support her decision–and be vigilant in case he was actually a cad dressed in fine, impenetrable leather.
For now, I chose to trust Evie’s feelings on the matter. And Ryker’s, who also vouched for the man.
While Silas had been busy divulging our secrets to the Northern Clans who wanted to end us, I wanted to free Aquila.
Returning to the Protectorate stronghold would be difficult. The battle of my life, even if I was lucky enough to have a long existence.
It also opened up another problem–Aquila was very far away from Solkar’s Reach.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can run very fast,” Ryker teased me away from the avalanche of thoughts.
Always there to carry the burden of them. Actually happy to.
“You can.” I looked up at him. His eyes sparked with a silvery-blue hue, similar to the colors on my crown; they’d been doing that a lot lately when he looked at me, the purple now a tinge reserved for all the other occasions. “But I want to as well. I want that speed. I want to pass the ritual.”
A rush of emotions flooded him all at once.
Pride, because his wife was courageous and strong.
Worried, because the ritual was painful. Deadly, for most.
“The Dragon survived it,” I argued.
“I know you’ll survive it, too. But I am in no hurry to rejoice your pain,” he said. “The agony of your bones and ligaments ripping and then rearranging themselves is not something I wish upon you. But…if you want to try, I will support you. After you’ve recuperated from battle.”
He was right, as usual.
Despite his best efforts and power coursing through me in delicious and decadent ways, an unexplainable soreness lingered within me from overworking my power.
It had never happened before.
Then again, back in Aquila, I’d never pushed myself to the limits as I had now.
“Huntress. Commander.” Zandyr bowed his head. “Dax.”
Dax mirrored him. “Bastard.”
Zandyr’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Evie warned me about your particular ways.”
“Trust me, she left the worst out. She’s nice like that.” Dax flashed his teeth.
“Well, we’ll all be acquainted with our particularities very soon.” Zandyr grinned just as sharply. “We’re all family now, after all.”
“Speaking of family–” I interjected before they kept trading barbs until the sun went down. There was something about Blood Brotherhood men and Dax that just didn’t mix. “You’re right, whether we like it or not, our Clans are connected now.”
“Indestructibly so,” he said with regal ease. His eyes lingered in the distance. “But before we continue, there’s someone here who’s very excited to see you.”
Gallops resounded from the back of the army. We turned to see Evie on her mighty nazdran rushing our way. No saddle impeded their movements. She wore a flowy silk dress of Capital making with ribbons that danced around her in the wind in tune with her hair.
My heart leaped at the sight.
She looked free and happy.
The nazdran stopped a few feet away from us with an aloof neigh, so similar to Sylvester’s haughty attitude.
Evie jumped off his back with enviable grace and ran into my open arms so fast, she knocked the wind out of me.
“I’ve missed you!” she squealed. “Sorry for the delay, Zorin loves the open fields. You came earlier than I expected!”
“I didn’t know you were here!” I hugged her tighter, then narrowed my eyes at Ryker. “Why didn’t I know she was here?”
“I didn’t know, either.” He jutted out his chin at Zandyr. “Why didn’t I know?”
Dax barked a laugh. “The family reunions are going to be glorious.”
“Everybody calm down. Clan people, I swear.” Evie held on tighter to me. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Thought we could all have a little gathering–if you’re in an inviting mood.”
“Of course you can come visit me whenever you like,” I said.
Dax grinned at Ryker. “One Vegheara leaves, another comes to take their place.”
“I have a feeling she’ll be a better guest than you,” Ryker said.
“Just for a few hours, we’re all busy. With our impending deaths and all,” Evie said.
Ryker and Zandyr exchanged a look.
“So the whole joking-about-death thing is a Vegheara trait,” Zandyr said.
Ryker said. “Yes. You get used to it.”
“You two, acting like you’re not obsessed with blood. You’re so–” She disentangled herself from my embrace and looked up at me, radiant. “You’re wearing the crown!”
“I am,” I said, almost bashful. I’d gotten used to its weight resting on my head.
“Wait, wait.” She rushed inside the tent and came out mere seconds later, balancing a heavy crown on top of her own head. While mine had been forged in the Ember Vale, hers looked to have escaped the most infernal fires and still held strong. Even our crowns were stubborn. “Now we match!”
“That we do,” I said softly.
Despite everything that had happened and all she’d been through–faking one’s death and reemerging from the flames was a trick that would have impressed even Dria Vegheara–I still saw Evie as a little sister, full of wonder.
The Capital had changed her. She walked taller, finally aware that she’d become queen of the fiercest Clan in Malhaven. But her ordeals hadn’t managed to suck the joy out of her.
I wasn’t sure I had come out as whole after everything I’d witnessed. I probably hadn’t been like that to begin with.
But now I felt more at peace, no longer a captive of my own debilitating thoughts. And whenever they sprung up again, Ryker was there to share the burden of them.
“You were saying something about Clans,” Zandyr said, draping an arm across Evie’s shoulders. She leaned into him the same way I did with Ryker.
“Our Clans. Our fates are intertwined.” I stood up straighter. The Dragon wasn’t the only one who’d been raised to rule and look effortlessly noble–but I didn’t go around calling myself princess, now did I? “I want to reclaim the Protectorate throne.”
Evie gasped in delight and clasped her hands. “Finally!”
Good reactions were great, but promises were final.
“Can I count on your support?” I forced the words out. Asking for help was still a skill I had to develop, but I was definitely getting better at it.
I knew I could count on Ryker and his warriors, but an entire army tipped the balance in our favour–if all of us survived long enough to see this plan through.
Evie furrowed her brows and exchanged a glance with her husband.
“Honestly?” she asked, making my breath hitch. “I’m a bit miffed you even had to ask.”
The breath whooshed out of me. I wasn’t exactly expecting a refusal–the Blood Brotherhood hadn’t given any inkling they were the ones who wanted us dead–but such a fast show of support eased that knotted tangle of emotions inside of me.
“I promised Evie her cousins would be protected,” Zandyr said. “And Malhaven is safest with you on the Protectorate throne. When you march on Aquila, the Blood Brotherhood army will stand beside you. You have my word.”
“Hate to be the one to say it, but your word isn’t exactly trustworthy.” Dax looked between him and Evie with a scowl.
Evie sighed. “Dax–”
“You’re free to have your feelings about him,” he said and placed a hand on his heart. “But so do I.”
“No worries,” Zandyr said, unbothered, and narrowed his gaze on Dax. “I don’t trust him, either.”
“If we have any chance of winning, trust is mandatory,” I said. “We’re stronger together.”
“We are.” Zandyr raised his open palm. “Allies, in blood and word.”
“Only shake on it if you’re absolutely sure,” I said. “Protectorate powers don’t take kindly to broken promises.”
“I am.”
I took his hand and shook it as hard and controlled as Grandpa Constantine had taught me. “Allies. Officially.”