3. Chapter Three
Istood at the top of the hill with a slack jaw.
I didn’t anticipate the sheer magnitude of rebels Eero had awaiting his return to power—such magnitude that I doubted they all hailed from this realm. I wondered how many managed to slip beyond the fae barrier to seek refuge away from the prying eyes of mortal queens and kings. Was this refuge?
After all, they were waiting for war.
Seeking it out, in fact.
Eero slowed his pace to stand next to me as Casynox and Sapphire continued onward. At the bottom of the hill, where the ground leveled out into more rows of tents, makeshift campfires, and training grounds, large groups of soldiers communed with smiles so wide, I wouldn’t have guessed we were at a camp designed for creating warriors.
How they shielded the rest of the world from so many bodies was beyond me.
“The rest of them are scattered across the fae realm,” Eero said, breaking the string of silence with a sharp talon. I smacked my lips shut and turned to look at him, watching his dual-colored gaze sparkle. Though his lips twitched into a small smile, something dark shadowed his joy. “I can’t help but wonder if I let them down with my obstinate patience. Some fifty odd years is a long time to wait for a king they weren’t quite sure was still alive.”
“You did what you knew was best,” I said quickly, not an essence of doubt poisoning my tone. He started shaking his head, so I grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. I was still learning so much…about his past, my blood, and this looming tension between the fae and mortal realm. Despite my lingering ignorance, I was positive he was doing these people good. “Casynox knew that, too. How else do you think he rallied all these people?”
When Eero finally turned to me, his eyes softened. All shadows of doubt had faded into the sunlight, leaving nothing but his eternal, intimidating presence to radiate down on me. He’d seen all of me—the good and most definitely the bad—and I was just starting to see all of him, but I don’t think I’d ever get used to…this.
He was just too beautiful.
And when he pressed his lips to my forehead as a silent acknowledgment, as unspoken gratitude for what I’d just said, I was reminded how human he was—not in appearance, but in heart.
“I love you, witchling,” he said against my skin before using my hold on him to tug me down the hill. “But such confessions must wait. Like I said…fifty years is a long time to wait.”
So I followed, the ghost of a smile coloring me pink. He led me out into the makeshift arena, seats crafted of old wooden barrels, crates, and whatever else they could conjure up to form the rows. There was no stage, no podium to make his speech at, but the crowds formed as if it were the performance of a lifetime.
I allowed the soldiers to sit, standing off to the side to watch from afar. None of them looked at me twice; if they did, it was in the way of greeting, not disapproval. For the first time since arriving in the fae realm, I felt mundane enough that I wasn’t worth the gossip, stares, or—worst of all—their touch.
A racing tingle of terror twisted around my spine at the thought. Visions of that putrid night overwhelmed my senses, from the powder and drugs they forced down my throat to the hazy memories of Sólkon’s calloused fingers. I was knocked unconscious long before he’d strung me up with those silver chains to bite at my skin like he was worthy of claiming my flesh, but every now and again, reality would slap me in the face.
Who knows; perhaps in the coming days, I’d have enough recollection of that nightmare to hire an artist and bring it to life. I’d hang it above my bed to ensure that, even when my memory failed me, I would not forget.
Never would I forget.
As Eero stepped ahead of Casynox, the bestial man with eyes that glimmered like a saint, and Sapphire, the crimson sorceress with unspoken bloodlust in her stare, my mind went numb of all the reveries.
The crowd silenced, even as hundreds more gathered in the back when there were no more chairs to be taken.
“Two hundred and fifty years ago, war unleashed across our beautiful world.” A pause, unbroken by even the smallest gasp. “Two years ago, I cost us our home, and fifty years ago…I decided it was time to reclaim what was lost. Our chance at an era of harmony…”
It was so quiet, in fact, that I could hear the fizz of foam from the half-empty beer nestled at the feet of the nearest soldier. The pounding of my heart drowned it out soon enough.
“And for an eternity more, I will be working to rebuild what was lost as a consequence of my failure.” Eero slowly turned his head across the crowd, as if to memorize each stare that beheld him. “Because there is no one but myself to blame for the things we lost.” When he found mine, though, he frowned. “The people we hurt.”
As he twisted to pace to the other side, hands drawn behind his back respectfully, I saw the glimpse of an aristocrat shining through. Once known as Sólvon, King of the Winter Court, Eero was regal in more ways than one.
“I do not ask for your forgiveness, for I am not certain I deserve it, but I ask you to listen. Today, we share one common enemy. It is not one single king, queen, human, or fae. It is the violence and reckoning they seek. We will target those oppressors, tyrants, villains. And then, once we have been rid of those parasites, we will rebuild our snowy wasteland. Renew magic lost to negligent rulers. Rekindle alliances. But to do this, I need you.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and found myself nodding in response, as if I was worthy of being part of this. I knew nothing of war, of the battles between fae and humankind, but I would learn.
“Together, we can see the sun once again.”
The crowd had roared out in agreement the second Eero stepped back to allow Casynox to take over. They’d hung on every word as if he was a god speaking their prophecy into existence. These people were desperate for their homes and their freedom. It made me wonder just how much they lost under Sólkon’s reign.
Too much, that was already for certain.
Despite their unfortunate situation, I’d never witnessed such revelry. It was wilder than the festivals back in the Elkyn kingdom, when the likes of Jon, my most beloved merchant, downed one too many pitchers of mead before slithering his greasy arm around the nearest bar maiden. The reek of sweat made my nose curl, but there was something comforting about it. Like I was home, amongst people who didn’t care or have the means to be cleaner. Once upon a time, I would have recoiled in retreat or suggested the nearest soaper to rid them of their musk, but it was a welcome nuisance today.
It felt like home.
Sapphire had been pulled aside by one of the soldiers no more than ten minutes into the mayhem, and although Casynox’s hunting eyes followed my trail as I ventured away from the crowd, he didn’t move to step away from Eero.
I hadn’t a clue what part of camp I’d managed to get lost in, but eventually, I found dull metal swords and slashed sparring dummies. I dragged a finger across the coarse burlap that hung loosely over the post as I passed one before facing something I hadn’t thought I’d see again since fleeing the Night Court. The barrier, which had been all but invisible to the naked eye, glistened in the cracks with snapping clusters of stars filling voids in the mostly invisible barrier. The reality beyond the magic was trying to break through the thin veil of protection.
I reached for it, much like Eero had helped me do in the planetarium at Novus’ castle. I hadn’t even touched the star before the warmth bled onto my fingertips.
“Sometimes, broken things are beautiful.”
Jolting out of my skin, I spun around to catch the inquisitive glare of a blonde female soldier. She was plated in fighting leathers, a sword strapped over her back. Unlike the rest, she looked ready for battle. Her skin was olive-toned, with striking amber eyes that could outshine the moon above.
“What?” I breathed, stammering on my words.
She laughed, her boots crunching beneath the twigs and dried leaves as she neared the starry cracks. After dropping my hand, I watched her grab hold of one as if it were no more challenging than plucking petals from flowers.
“I spend hours locating these clusters. This magic is finickier than one might think. Hungrier than an orphaned baby.” She let the star bounce between her fingers before suffocating it. With it, the light dwindled. “And it’s my boot that stomps on their necks.”
Hairs raced across my arm with a lingering instinct to run. Ever since Eero rescued me, there was this constant buzzing of paranoia flitting around me. “You think about pressing your boot to the neck of babies often?” I asked, trying to push beyond my instinct.
The most genuine of laughs slipped past her lips. After taking a long look at me, she offered a hand. Residual glittering magic remained on her skin, but her touch was cold when I accepted the handshake. “Lyra,” she said. “Say, aren’t you the witch our king keeps under lock and key?”
I cleared my throat, allowing my hand to float back to my side. “Aurelie. If you know about me, he isn’t doing a good job keeping me tucked away.”
Lyra grinned cheerfully. She tugged at her leather corset before flourishing her hand toward the cluster of stars. It was crackling, small rivers splintering across the barrier. If somebody happened upon it, would they notice? Would they find a way to break through, or run off screaming what would forever be considered a conspiracy?
“Do you know how to glamour your way out of trouble?”
I stifled my chuckle. “I don’t think I know how to do much of anything.”
Lyra shook her head, but her smile remained. She jerked her head toward the barrier, ushering me closer. I could feel the starlight sizzling against my skin as I let my fingers dance over the surface, recalling how euphoric it was back at the planetarium. That may have been my lowest point, but life felt simpler, in a way. Perhaps it was my denial guided by the handsome hand of my bodyguard. Or, perhaps, I was fascinated with the more toxic sides of life. Did it make me feel alive?
“I have to admit, I’ve never met a halfling who didn’t know their way around magic, especially the kind who had access to sorceresses, of all people.” When I gave her a sidelong glance, she smirked. “Word travels fast around camp, Aurelie.”
My heart dipped into my stomach at the thought. I didn’t know if Azalea was still in prison, nor did I understand how far gone Yenira was. Yenira and Sapphire were sisters, yes, and it was likely that my longest-standing friend not only had relations with the most vile, sick excuse of a male I’d ever seen, but also had a hand in Eero’s attempted assassination. Or who Eero used to be.
“Ignorance is bliss,” I fibbed. If only it were my choice. At least then, I could call myself a fool—somehow, that was easier to swallow than being this fragile little thing. I would learn to fight with my wits and hands, but would my magic keep up?
“Ignorance is a means of death during war. Would you like me to show you?”
I swallowed the lump and nodded, allowing my hand to fall back by my side. The chill in the air was icy against my skin compared to the warmth that bled from those stars. To think that this glamoured barrier was nothing more than a collection of fractured stars, mended together by the hands of this…guard?
“You’re able to do that?”
Lines formed in her smooth cheeks with a kind smile. “More than capable.” Lyra glanced at me, eyes glittering with the starlight before her. “You, too, Aurelie. We are one and the same.”
Warmth bubbled deep inside me. The fae referred to halflings as if they were almost above them, at least in opportunity and power, but never had a true explanation been given. Perhaps they didn’t know and blamed it on magic or the stars, but I even saw it in Eero’s eyes. He thought me to be this almighty, powerful thing.
Truth be told, I had never felt more vulnerable and weaker in my life. It was like a snake was draining me of my ability to push through…this, whatever this was. I was out of my element, and it was only getting hazier as the days passed. Eero would always be a light in this darkness, but I wondered how long it would take to wholly consume me.
Would I make it out of the shadows as the same person?
“You see, the fae are connected to the elements, most often those associated with their individual courts. Much like the ones you grew up around, sorceresses harness chaos and bend the very fabric of time to their mercy. It’s simple, really. Those with fae blood are bound to the nature that birthed their origin. Those with mortal blood, however, have no business interfering with magic. So instead…they corrupt it.”
“Are you saying that humans didn’t always have magic?”
“I am saying exactly that,” Lyra muttered, her smile fading. She touched the crackling void within the barrier, and as her fingers glowed, the fissures slowed their race. Eventually, they mended together, and the starlight faded until the hole was closed. “But no sane human would allow the fae to merely exist with all that power, even in peaceful times. So, they took them prisoner.”
My lips parted, watching as she knelt to address the next crack in the barrier. This one was smaller, and it vanished before I realized she was using magic. We were fully protected behind the barrier now—but I oh-so desperately wanted somebody to approach from the other side.
Just to see what it felt like to be a fly on the wall.
“They bred half-fae, half-human offspring over and over, raising them until they were at maturity, at which time they tested their…magical prowess.” Lyra scowled and reached for the gloves hanging off her belt. After sliding them over her hands, she tightened the fabric over her fingers one by one. “Those who were too similar to one side were executed. Babies with pointed ears, young girls who failed to summon even the simplest magic…gone. It was that way for years.”
“If humans were the ones to take them prisoner, then why was I raised to fear fae?” I asked quietly. Lyra took a long look at me, all that glee and mischief masked behind a shadow in her eyes.
“Easy. Even the most obedient prisoners become a threat when they start fighting back. Silver can only contain us for so long.”
I thought back to the way silver burned my flesh as my body was strung up for display, bitten…scarred…ruined. I was only a halfling, but it had brought me to my knees with the gentlest slice. I didn’t want to know what it would do to a full-blooded fae.
“Enough stories, Lyra,” a deeper voice called from our left. The thrumming music returned to focus, and for a moment, I hadn’t realized how enveloped in this conversation I had become. The soldier was the first to turn at the voice, immediately bowing her head. Her hands went firm at her sides, lips flicking into a frown.
“Apologies, my king.”
My brows knitted together. Looking to my left, I found Eero with two glasses in hand. His eyes were hooded, an amused, feline smile dancing across those lips. He wasn’t displeased, angry, or even frustrated, but I knew this was no different than getting caught gossiping in a castle.
“No need for that. Just return to your post. I will ensure Aurelie gets a proper introduction to our history another day.”
Lyra lifted her head, silently thanking him before giving me another look. “Remember what I said, Aurelie. Ignorance is your enemy.”
And then she was gone into the night, not even the wind whistling her goodbye. I blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. Eero slipped beside me a second later, offering me the chalice of wine before pressing a kiss to my temple.
“It isn’t safe being so near the barrier, witchling.”
My lips twitched at the moniker, angling my chin up to stare him in the eyes. “I would apologize, but I’m not in the least bit sorry.”
Eero’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t expect it any other way. You’re just lucky Lyra looked twice before sending you to your knees.”
I brought the glass to my lips and took a slight sip of the wine. I walked toward the training posts, letting my hand drag against the burlap again. “But now that I know about this place, surely I will be able to return.”
Eero hummed, not in disagreement, but rather, contemplation. “Training some place a bit more refined than the Magyn Manor may serve you well.”
I rarely heard him speak of our temporary home by its formal title. In the few books I’d read regarding the grounds, it was a safe haven for the sorceresses to convene prior to the war. Before the barrier severed the two realms, they could go to and fro as they wished. Knowing what little I did about Prince Evander and his family, I was almost positive he would still welcome the Circle of Sorceresses into his domain, even though he wasn’t one for war—none of the Spring Court was.
That said, he wasn’t taking the most neutral approach when allowing Eero and his troops to set up camp at the border. It was so near the Winter Court, but he could thrust these people out if he genuinely wanted to. Force them into hiding until they had another place to train. Given the monstrosities I’d met so far, there weren’t many contenders Eero would put his trust in.
“Aurelie, how are you holding up?”
I paused, spinning on my heel to look at him. He’d leaned against a post, one hand in his pocket while the other rotated the cup to aerate the wine. If I had known him any less, I would say he appeared indifferent, but the lines forming around his downturned lips and the subtlest squint in his eyes screamed at me to ease his nerves.
Eero wasn’t often vulnerable, but once he’d opened up to me, it was like I could do nothing other than fixate on his pain. His anxieties. His guilt.
The latter was greater than ever after he saved me from that…night.
“I am fine,” I said.
“Fine?”
“Hmm,” I squeaked, body stiffening when he straightened off the post to approach me. Those dual-colored eyes darted up and down my body in response, his frown harshening. I watched him set the glass down on one of the posts nearest us before pulling me into him. I let out the tiniest gasp, allowing my head to bury into his chest. He smelled of warm, evergreen bark and tobacco-sweet smoke. When we weren’t tucked amongst the lingering chaos of a party, he was like a campfire in the wintry woods that I got lost in time and time again, but tonight was different. Tonight, my mind wandered.
Even as his arms, long and strong, wrapped around my body, I spiraled into a darker place. Flashes of that night resurfaced—and the only thing that pulled me over the crashing waves was the gentle kiss atop my head.
“I want you to speak with Lyra more,” he muttered against my head. “I don’t quite know what my brother exposed you to that night, witchling, but I can see the darkness in your eyes. I need you to be more than fine.”
My breath hitched in my throat, and tears were threading across his eyes when I dipped my head back to look up at him. He’d cried so few times in front of me, and it felt like the most recent of them was in response to my night terrors and panic attacks. I didn’t want Eero to worry so much about me when something so much greater than my trauma loomed over him, but it was a battle I’d fought and lost thrice already.
Passionately, too. We’d never argued so heatedly before. And to think, he was fighting for me when I wanted nothing more than for him to ignore what was consuming my mind, body, and soul.
“I have told you I will be just that—fine.”
Eero’s eyes narrowed into slits, and I could see the tempest bubbling within him. I stepped away from his embrace, taking a longer swig of wine and twirling away from him.
“Now, can we please return to the festivities? We can speak about Lyra later.”
Eero had been quiet the rest of the night. He didn’t dally far from me, but as the alcohol warmed my cheeks and eased my nerves, he smiled little at my silly jokes. Casynox, Sapphire, and I were cracking up over the tiniest, most mundane things, but Eero sulked. I knew I’d upset him, but I didn’t have the energy to fix that right now.
The ride home was a blur as I dozed in and out of slumber. Every time I checked, the others had their heads drooped down with their eyes closed. Casynox had his hand over the pommel of his blade, as usual, but Sapphire and Eero seemed relaxed, utterly lost in sleep.
And I had been too, thanks to the faerie wine. At least, until the carriage jolted to a stop. I flung forward, hand gripping onto the seat across from me to stop from completely falling into Casynox’s lap. I’d never hear the end of it if I let myself fall onto his secondary weapon.
When the darkness faded into focus, I looked up through strands of my hair to see if Cas or Sapphire had woken from the jerking movement, but they had vanished.
I gasped, twisting to my left to grab hold of Eero, but another replaced his dark tunic and slender frame. I immediately fell back against the carriage walls, slippery hands frantically reaching for the bronze handle to find a way free. My heart was failing me, pounding so loudly I thought my chest bone would snap in two just to make room. The carriage hadn’t stopped; it was moving faster than ever. It was much worse than a bumpy ride forcing me from reality.
“Hello, Aurelie,” his deep voice hummed around the carriage. It was like he was both within and without—a wraith of my greatest nightmares. Sólkon, the Summer King, was within arm’s reach for the first time in months. The stronger side of me wanted to pummel his face, perhaps even burn this entire carriage to the ground with me in it, but as his frame flickered like a drunken apparition, I knew he was not real. Not real, I repeated to myself, over and over and over.
It only made me question whether Eero, Cas, and Sapphire could see my panic, or if I was still fast asleep.
“I hope our time apart allowed you a full and swift recovery,” Sólkon continued with slits for eyes. He leaned forward on his knees so casually, forearms braced against the muscular thighs with hands cupped in front of him, a nonchalant beast awaiting the perfect time to attack. “But I cannot permit you to play fiancée any longer.”
“Fuck off,” I sputtered, curling a finger over the handle. If I pulled it, I would tumble out of this moving carriage—perhaps to my demise, but it would be a fatal end without the chokehold of King Sólkon. “How are you here right now?”
His thin lips spread into a wide, toothy grin. “Do not worry about that. It is just you and I, witchling.”
I wanted to throw up. Eero made the term endearing, but coming from his brother, it was worse than soot to the lungs. “Don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer halfling?”
I spat at his face, watching the drool fling through him. He cackled, jolting forward and taking hold of me. I reached to tear the hair from his scalp, but I could not touch him. He, however, had his hands firmly around my throat. It’d bruise, best case scenario—and worst, he’d cut off my airflow permanently.
“Listen closely, halfling. I spent a lot of precious resources that night ensuring this went right to plan. I could have killed you, but”—he made a tsking sound—“then I’d sacrifice the easiest way to my brother. Sólvon is so terribly trusting of you, Aurelie Cane.”
I thrashed my feet, tightening my hold on the handle. Reality was slipping from me faster than the air in my lungs, but if I flung myself free onto the road outside, I could save myself.
I could also possibly get impaled by the rocks and thorny bushes lining the road.
His breath tickled my skin when he leaned in further. My hands warmed with magic, the handle burning with starlight, threatening this carriage. I couldn’t erupt—no, not with the others here. I couldn’t see them, but I had to hold onto reality. I had to keep them safe. So I clicked the door open, squeezing my eyes shut to prepare for my leap of faith. I didn’t care about my body. I only cared about keeping the others safe from Sólkon. If he could touch me, there was no end to what he would do to them.
Sólkon laughed, his footwork unfazed by the shift in weight as I leaned backward. The air hitting my skin was so natural. The moonlight shone into the midnight shadows, and although I couldn’t turn to look, the wheel scraping against rough rock and gravel warned me about the landing I would face. Just as I started to let my weight give in, he forced me toward his chest and held me upright.
“I’ve been watching you, you know,” he whispered into my ear. “Your will to live is waning, and as much as I’d love to watch how your untimely demise impacts my brother, I cannot allow it.” As if he were challenging his own words, he removed his hand from my neck and grabbed hold of my tunic’s collar. He pulled me in so close, I could feel his pounding, icy heart. I could not touch him, but the Summer King defied all logic. He could harm me, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing about it.
If he let go, I’d fall. I reached for the door behind me, but he shook me before pushing my body against the carriage wall, one arm brushing the wind outside the carriage, the other pinned.
Phantom hands were grabbing hold of me now, ones I could not see. My tunic was tearing at the sides, stretched by desperate attempts to pull me in. The door slammed shut, finally—but then, an impossible blast of magic swung it open once more. That was reality. Not Sólkon, but the friends who were probably screaming at me to stop, to get away from the door so they could force it shut again.
“There are two ways this will end. You will agree to my plan, and I will tuck you safely against your lover, unharmed, as they battle to figure out what got hold of you. Or…I will let you fall. You’ll tumble down the hillside into a pit of rocks that will plunge into your eye sockets, and your wrists will bleed as your flesh is torn apart.”
“What do you fucking want?” I wept, forcing my focus back on the wretched Summer King. “Let me go, you cocksucker!”
“It’s simple, Aurelie. You’re going to come with me and finish what we started. Your creator grows…impatient.”
My heart leaped into my throat at the thinly veiled threat.
“You’re full of shit,” I muttered, spit spewing from my mouth as I fought against the strain in my voice. I refused to let him see my weakness, my fear.
Sólkon tutted as he shook his head, the most pathetic excuse for sympathy crossing his features. Though he pouted, his eyes were void of human emotion. He was a vessel of a man—soulless, heartless, cold. He loosened his hold of my collar. I howled out when those phantom hands, belonging not to Sólkon or my own, grabbed my waist. It had to be Eero or Sapphire. Hell, even Casynox. I wouldn’t doubt they were all screaming at the coachman to stop, muffled by the rocky roads ahead.
Or perhaps Sólkon bought them out, too.
That was when my eyes narrowed, anger broiling deep in my chest. “My creator?” I growled. Sólkon’s sympathies vanished into a raw rage as he balled my neckline into his fist. “You’re delusional.”
“Oh, don’t take it personally, witchling. If times were different, I may have battled my brother for your affections.”
I spat in his face again. He reached his hand back as if to hit me but then stopped with a curled lip.
“So what’ll it be, Aurelie? Will you make this easy, or will you make it a fight?”
“I will never succumb to your plans, Sólkon. I don’t know what you’re doing or have done, but it will be your end. I will be your end.”
“Is that so?” he cooed, leaning in close. He smelled so real—like war amid the woods—and I wanted to squash him with the underside of my boot. I wanted to watch the smoke lift from his remains until there was nothing but ash. I, more than anything else, wanted him to crumble.
“Perhaps in another life, then.”The most feline, cruel smile I’d ever seen came over his face. Magic blossomed from my fingertips as instinct took over. “Yenira was right. You’re too weak to fight for yourself.”
Sólkon’s eyes turned to fire, wholly chaotic and crazed. No, he wouldn’t let me tumble out of this carriage with a way to survive. He was going to burn it from the inside out. I screeched, the magic swelling in my palms like the wick of a hot candle. Flames bled from his nose, embers drifting into the air, but before the vipers of fire could engulf the wooden shell of this very carriage, I shoved my palm into his chest. Finally, it collided…flesh to flesh.
His red-hot rage vanished as his body slammed through the carriage door. No more solid than a ghoul, his image slipped through the walls as mine impacted with the wooden frame. The horses shrieked as the entire thing went tumbling, rocking off its wheels from the force of my magic.