Chapter Eight
Skylar Cathal
The three days spent sailing to Solace were not wasted.
Winds were in our favor, almost like Valdor itself was helping us along the journey. No storm clouds threatened our passage, with only blue skies and warm winds to whisk us through the Narrow Sea.
And so, I trained from sunup to sundown. So exhausted that I couldn’t keep my eyes open come nightfall, sinking into a dreamless sleep each time my head hit the pillow.
A part of me wished I could dream of Daxton again, but I also knew it was for the best. I needed to focus on the trial, and the temptation of drifting off with him was far too alluring.
I concentrated on working through the various movements Daxton and Gunnar had taught me during my time training in Silver Meadows. I knew I wouldn’t be able to overpower the alpha with brute strength. I would have to use my head.
The question was, would the alpha be Alistar or Gilen?
Alistar had been our leader all my life. He was well-versed in combat and had access to his animal. But Gilen was on his way to take his father’s place. His power had likely grown since my departure, and if I were to wager who I thought held the position, it would be Gilen.
I hated the thought of challenging my childhood best friend. I hoped and prayed to the Gods that he would see reason and listen to me.
The scroll had deemed this task a trial of the soul, and I had to admit, before ever setting foot back on the mainland, I knew this would be the most difficult trial yet.
A long, high-pitched whistle sounded from a sailor high atop the crow’s nest, signaling land was in sight.
We were here.
Solace.
I climbed the mast, wrapping a rope around my wrist and jumping onto the pristine white railing to lean over the starboard side of the ship. My heart leaped in my chest, seeing the shoreline I knew so well. The scent of the familiar forest, even at this distance, made my spirit soar.
Just as we rounded a cluster of sea rocks, revealing the cliffs plummeting into the waves, sheer dread replaced my joy.
“Dear… Gods,” a nearby High Fae whispered and gasped in absolute horror.
No. I sucked in a sharp breath.
The cliffs between the green sand beach and the shoreline closest to Solace held threads of the wilt. Like ink spilled on parchment, it congregated near the sea and slowly spread across the land.
Black veins snaked along the shoreline, intruding into the forest that held trees resembling burnt skeletons.
The once vibrant greenery now mimicked the territory overrun and controlled by the creatures of the dark magic in the Inner Kingdom.
They were blackened with a lifeless sway from the sea breeze.
Bare of any bark or leaves, even the pines farther inland were brown and wilted.
The decay of our world was no longer a threat but a reality. The wilt had finally made its way onto the mainland.
Valdor was in grave danger.
It was clear now, if I failed—if I didn’t win the trials—everything would be lost. We would not survive another hundred years.
The High Fae queen’s magic might fend off the creatures and the progression of the decay in the Inner Kingdom, but the mainland would not be safe.
We had no defenses against this. Nothing to combat the wilt that suffocated the land and everything in its path.
I swung back over the railing, sailors lining up along the side, gawking at the shoreline.
“I can’t believe it,” one of the High Fae females stammered. “How? How did this happen so quickly?”
That was the same question I had. It had only been three months, and when we left, the black veins of death did not yet cross into the mainland.
What made this progress so quickly? Did the human lands to the south hold these threads as well?
Fjorda appeared at my side. “You said the veil felt… different? That the magic at the crossing wasn’t as strong?”
“Yes,” I answered.
The others surrounding us nodded their heads as well.
“Gods above,” Fjorda cursed.
I gasped. “Oh no!”
“What does this mean, Captain?” a beautiful blonde female asked, striding to his side.
I recognized her as Fjorda’s first mate. The companion Castor had taken to his quarters on more than one occasion while we sailed to the Inner Kingdom.
“You want to tell them?” Fjorda inclined his head toward me, knowing I had reached the same awful conclusion he had.
“It means,” I began, refusing to allow my voice to waver, determined to be strong, because, well, there was no other option at this point. “It means the veil is losing its power. It’s weakening.”
“How?” someone shouted from the crowd. The winds began to shift, bringing the Opal closer to the shoreline, revealing more evidence of the wilt’s destruction.
“The veil has stood for five hundred years! How is it now failing?” another shouted.
I looked at Fjorda, and he gave me a curt nod, his eyes churning wild like the turquoise seas. He understood exactly why the veil was failing, why it was beginning to fall. There was one change, one definite difference.
“It’s because of me,” I said.
The High Fae on the ship stilled, their gazes all turning in my direction. Some looked confused, and others looked shocked, but there were a handful who realized the truth.
I inhaled a long breath, my animal sending a surge of courage through me. “The further I progress in the trials, the weaker the veil’s magic becomes.”
Whispers erupted amongst the crew.
I looked out onto the sands, sorrow threatening to shatter my beating heart at the state of my homeland, wishing I could have spared my people this deathly curse.
“They’re linked. Gods be damned. Daxton was right,” I said to myself.
Oh, Mother and Father, there would be no living with him after he heard of this. I shook my head as the chatter around me continued to build.
“The Silver Meadows high prince believed they were connected?” the first mate asked, overhearing me.
Her long braid fell over her shoulder in a cascade of blonde, almost white, silken locks. The slender sword at her back was paired with the daggers strapped to her thighs, sharpening her appearance and countering her feminine beauty with that of a lethal fighter.
“He did,” I answered. “My mate had a theory that when I unlocked the Heart, the veil would fall, and our worlds would once again be open to one another.”
“Your mate,” she repeated, a half-smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. “That explains the scent change.”
Others around her nodded in agreement.
“It makes sense,” Fjorda said, silencing the muttering of his crew. “The veil appeared when the Heart was locked away. It’s logical that they’re linked.”
“What do we do now?” a male sailor asked.
I glanced along the shoreline, recognizing my green sand beach before turning to Fjorda. “Do you have a rowboat you can spare?”