Chapter Forty
ChApter
Forty
The Garrison is just as I remember it: loud, bustling, alive with the clamor of soldiers and the scent of sweat and iron. But as I move through its familiar corridors, my focus is only on one thing.
My uncle’s summons makes me anxious, but the thing that’s clawing at my skin is the concern that he didn’t call me with his telepathy. I need to find out the reason behind the alteration in routine.
I quicken my pace, my boots scuffing against the stone as I push through the last archway leading to his quarters.
My fae speed makes me quick, and Sir Holden is soon far behind me, unable to keep up.
And the only reason I’ve made it this far so quickly is because my squad isn’t here at the moment to slow me down with their greetings.
The wooden door to his office stands ajar, candlelight flickering within.
I step inside to find Uncle Kormak standing behind his heavy, wooden desk, poring over a spread of parchment and maps. He looks up as I enter, and for a moment, the breath catches in my throat.
He looks better. His skin is no longer ashen, his movements steady as he sets down the quill. The sharp lines of his face, once gaunt with illness, have regained their strength. And yet—there is something in his eyes, something distant, as if a shadow still lingers.
Relief floods me so suddenly, I barely know what to do with it. “You’re okay.” I cross the room, throwing my arms around him like I used to when I was younger.
He hugs me in return without any pretenses of formality.
When we separate, he straightens his uniform and motions to a chair. “You must be exhausted, Celeste. Have a seat.”
I don’t sit. I feel like I could jump out of my skin. “Your message has me concerned, Uncle. What’s going on?”
He lets out a breath, his gaze dropping as he turns and drops into the chair behind his desk. “I needed to see you because I’ve remembered some things.”
My breath gets stuck in my throat. “About your abduction?”
“Yes.”
“But why did you send a nightfeather? I haven’t heard your voice in my head in months.”
He takes a long breath and lets it out. “It has to do with my abduction, what they did to me.”
I swallow hard. “What… did they do?” I’m afraid to ask it, but I feel as if I need to know what happened.
The room stills. For a long moment, the only sound is the distant clash of training blades in the courtyard below.
I want to know everything, but I know I shouldn’t push him, so I force myself to remain calm and patient. “Okay,” I say, finally taking a seat. “Tell me what you remember.”
He reaches for a mug that sits on his desk and takes a swig. “The only thing I remember about the actual abduction is the smell.”
“The smell?”
“I was searching the area Lord Stregasi informed us about—the pit. The squad I took with me spread out. The area seemed to be abandoned, but there were traces of things. Spikes. Chains. And the ground was stained with what had to be blood. One minute, I was inspecting the bloodstained ground, and the next minute, my nose and mouth were covered. A chemical smell filled my head, and that was it.” He shakes his head.
“So you didn’t see who it was?”
“No.” He sighs. “And when I awoke, I was chained to a wall in a very cold dungeon.”
Oh, gods. I wrap my arms around my middle, waiting for him to continue.
“They were… cruel.” He averts his eyes again. “I won’t go into that, though. But I remember there was a woman in a hooded, red cloak. Her face was masked, so I don’t know what she looked like. But all she had to do was lay her hands on me, and the pain was inconceivable.”
“What?” I clench my hands into fists. “Who was she?”
“She was his seer. I never heard her name… or at least I don’t remember. But she made it clear she was loyal to the tsar. She’s also the reason I wasn’t able to use my powers. Why I haven’t used them since.”
“She stopped you from using telepathy?” I shake my head. “But why? And… how did she stop you? How did she know you were using it?”
“She’s very powerful. It’s as if she has a sense, like she can feel the energy behind the magic. If I tried to contact you, contact anyone, she would punish me. I can still feel the pain, even if I just think about using my magic.”
“That’s… That’s horrible.” I blink, trying to comprehend what he’s telling me. “What did she want from you?”
“She said the tsar wanted me to give you a message. In person. The seer’s prophecy foretells of an unchallenged dominion, and she believes the person who will rule this dominion is the tsar.
I can’t recall all the words from the prophecy, but there were parts that stuck in my mind.
The prophecy told of seizing power by using ‘the magic gifted by the gods to a powerful descendant.’ And she made it clear that the tsar wants you. ”
“‘Magic gifted by the gods.’ So fae or siren powers, but why me?” My eyes widen. To a powerful descendant. Could that mean…? “Is that why you think the tsar is my father?”
He keeps his eyes on me, inhaling deeply before a long exhale. “She didn’t say it was him, but she was clear that he wanted you. It seemed like an obsession. I believe Torbin was supposed to bring you to him. Not to kill you. Not to break you. He needs you to help him fulfill the prophecy.”
I furrow my brow, grasping the arms of the chair while my mind reels. “But ‘a powerful descendant’ doesn’t necessarily mean his descendant, does it? Maybe it just means someone who comes from a line of powerful fae or sirens.”
“You may be right. But that doesn’t change the fact that the tsar has targeted you, and I can only assume that he’s done so because of the way the seer has interpreted the prophecy.”
I feel sick. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know much about the accuracy of prophecies or even of seers, but I feel like something is off. If only my uncle could remember the entire prophecy, I might be able to pick it apart.
“That’s not all,” he says, bracing himself on the desk as he stands. “The other part of the prophecy that stands out is the whole reason for the carnoraxis attacks.”
I lift my chin. “You mean the third-born fae?”
“Yes. It was something like, ‘one of fae blood, third-born of kin, shall rise as the harbinger of ruin.’”
“Meaning…?”
“Essentially, a third-born fae could destroy the tsar’s plan to take over the world.”
“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “But we knew he was after the those fae.”
What is he not saying? My mind races, piecing together what little I know. The tsar’s campaign against fae-blooded third-borns, the way he has hunted them mercilessly. The way he has torn through entire bloodlines to root them out.
“The attacks had always seemed random,” Uncle Kormak says.
“Which didn’t make sense to me, unless the seer doesn’t know who this special third-born is.
She somehow is able to detect third-born in specific towns, and she must be using some kind of witchcraft to put the images or essences or something of the third-borns she sees into the heads of the carnoraxis so that they know who they’re targeting.
But I was starting to suspect something, and I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t see certain third-borns.
It took me a while to figure it out, but I believe I have a theory. ”
I’m completely confused, but I let him go on.
“I think she can only see third-borns whose powers have manifested,” he explains.
“Okay.”
“I think her powers reach out and grab hold of images of third-borns, and she sends the creatures out to attack those fae. That doesn’t stop the townspeople from sacrificing every third-born they know, just to cover their bases.”
I blink in confusion. “Right. Okay. But… I’m sorry, I’m not following.”
“I was trying to figure out why the seer wasn’t seeing… you.”
“But… what does that part of it have to do with me?” I ask, frowning. “I’m not third-born.”
Kormak doesn’t speak. He presses his lips together, something unreadable passing over his features.
“What?” I ask. “What is it you aren’t telling me?”
Kormak shifts, running a hand down his face.
“There’s more you need to know.” His voice is quieter now but no less heavy.
“Before she met your father, your mother lived in Alphemra, among the fae.” His voice is careful, measured, but there’s something raw beneath it.
“She was young. Na?ve, perhaps. And she fell in love.”
I say nothing, my hands coming together to clasp tightly in my lap. My neck suddenly feels hot, as if he’s about to say something that is going to change my world.
Kormak’s gaze flickers to me before he continues. “The man she loved died tragically in an accident, but when she lost him, she was already with child.”
A sharp breath presses against my ribs, but I don’t let it out. My head swims.
“She was meant for nobility, Celeste. Our family had ambitions for her, plans for her future. A child out of wedlock would have destroyed all of that.” He shakes his head slightly. “So our parents—your grandparents—they kept it a secret. And your mother had no choice but to leave the child behind.”
The world tilts.
My mother. The woman who sang to me, who pressed kisses to my forehead, who stroked my hair when I cried. The woman who never once made me feel like I wasn’t enough.
She’d had a child before Bennett and me. A whole other life.
I clear my throat, my voice hoarse. “And then?”
“She traveled to Delasurvia, a young, eligible debutante. And then she met Axel.”
I flinch at my father’s name.
Kormak exhales slowly. “She fell in love again. Or perhaps she convinced herself she had. He courted her, made promises. He was a prince. A future king. Here was the promise of a secure life. When he asked for her hand, she said yes. But she never told him about the boy.”
My stomach twists violently. This is too much. Too big. It changes everything I thought I knew. And it means that I am a third-born fae.
I force my voice to stay steady. “Is he still alive? My… brother?”