39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sapphire crafted us a portal as soon as I’d returned. My entire body was on high alert, the idea of my witchling lost to some sort of inexplicable bout of magic consuming every sensical part of me.
Calista parted ways with us, promising to fulfill her promise, but I didn’t care anymore. If Lyra died, if Lyren remained a prisoner in the Summer Court, if the entire rebellion fell apart, I didn’t care.
I wanted Aurelie back. I needed her safe. I didn’t have to ask who did this—I knew. There wasn’t an ounce of proof, but I didn’t need it.
I would burn every castle, every town, every bridge until I found the hellhole my brother had her hidden in. She’d told me how close he’d gotten to her—how he’d invaded her space in impossible ways since returning, but I didn’t act in haste.
I let him continue to watch from afar, confident we would resolve this issue before it got out of hand. Yet, here we were—and though I never saw him, I knew it was his doing.
It had to be. Every part of my body was itching to barge into every enemy court and freeze them to the bone until I found Aurelie, until one of them exposed her location. Sólkon was a fearsome man, but I could be worse.
I could be the worst nightmare they’d ever conjured.
“Eero, slow down,” Sapphire hissed as we raced beyond the border. We hadn’t bothered to glamour, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the houses nearest the deadlands witnessed our fae ears and breach of the treaty. Still, I didn’t care. I’d watch war unfurl across every known kingdom—in fact, I’d start it. In chaos, truth prevailed.
And in truth, I’d find my witchling.
When Sapphire grabbed my wrist, I twisted around and pointed at her nose. “Do not tell me to slow down.” My tone was sharper than a blade. Sapphire yanked away and pointed right back, her teeth bared.
“Don’t snap at me like that, Eero. Fighting will do nothing to get her back. If you need to unleash your anger, do it, but do not do it carelessly.”
Azalea jumped in and snatched my wrist. I glared at her hold but let her form a wall between us. “Arguing will not fix this situation, especially not here. Sapphire, are you able to craft us another portal?”
“Not yet,” she muttered and snapped her fingers a few times. She was still glaring at me by the time I scowled and twisted around, continuing forward. The soil slowly darkened, and I could see the Night Court city walls just ahead. My gaze hardened. Part of me—a foolish, dangerous part—entertained the idea of breaking into Novus’ castle and demanding he help bring her back, but that would just end poorly.
Likely with his dick hung over the mantle, head burning in the fire.
I groaned and kicked up some dirt as I screeched to a halt, balling my hands into my hair as I leaned over. “If he has her, Sapphire, then she’s in one of two places. She’s either in the Winter Court, where we found her within days, or she’s in the Summer Court, a place untouchable.”
“We can make it to the Summer Court if we need to,” Sapphire muttered softly, her voice nearing as the dirt crunched beneath her boots. She rubbed my back, and I straightened my posture to look at her. She was trying to be genuine, but I could hear the hesitation in her tone—there were only two ways into the Summer Court. One was by boat—neither of us would make it to shore without getting recognized—or the other by espionage.
Sapphire’s lips trembled, but she smiled at me. “I promise, Eero. We can do it.”
Something about hearing her voice crack and seeing her smile tremble broke me. I sucked in a breath and blinked away the tears, twisting my ahead and stomping down the path again. “If we don’t, then war comes early. That is a promise.”
About three hours into our journey, Sapphire was able to craft another portal, and we landed at the steps of Magyn Manor. I paused.
And I inhaled deeply.
Sapphire did, too—it was only Azalea who seemed clueless, which made sense. She had the nose of a mortal. I, however, caught the whiff of rancid death. It was seeping through the soil; no matter where I focused my attention, I could smell it. I turned slowly, and what I saw was enough to make my gut turn upside down.
“We won’t need to plan a rescue in the Summer Court anymore,” Sapphire said between gags.
I stared at the heads of Lyren, Isaac, and the cartographers, each spiked on thick, sharpened branches stabbed into the ground. They’d been there for days—with blackened skin, sagging, soulless eyes, and viciously violent expressions forever shadowed over their face.
I approached Lyren’s head slowly, hand trembling as I grabbed hold of the letter sticking from his mouth and unfolded it. There was dried blood splattered across the practically illegible text, and I swallowed hard.
It was a continuation of the letter left to Sapphire before all hell broke loose in the Spring Court last time.
She’s back—
It was Casynox’s scribbled writing. I knew it.
—Aurelie’s in danger.
Somewhere between the third and fourth time I read it over, my body had gone from a trembling bundle of nerves to still terror. I was no fool. I knew Yenira was back. Still, a foolish part of me doubted she’d be so involved with Sólkon’s plan.
A very, very foolish part.