Chapter Twenty-Seven
Skylar Cathal
Time was drifting too slowly, and yet too fast all at the same time. I stared at the maps sprawled across the desk in the high tower room overlooking Aelius, wondering which step to take next.
Much to my dismay, we’d spent the last week in Aelius. I was anxious to return to Crimson City, where Rhea, Shaw, and Talon were—gods, Talon. He was alive, but for how long? I didn’t dare ask the question aloud.
Aelius was shrouded in a permanent cloud of gloom and doom. During this time of year, if it wasn’t raining, then it was cloudy with a thick fog near the lakeside. It seemed unnatural to live in a place where an overcast day was a stroke of luck.
The High Fae of this region were finally free of Minaeve’s reign, but they mourned for their high prince.
Daxton and I agreed, with Seamus, that his presence be kept a secret. Every time we met at the entrance to the Labyrinth, a deep wound of shame haunted him. His sunken shoulders were weighed down by the dark deeds of his past. And beside him sat a ray of sunshine—Neera.
My cousin never left his side.
Gods above, it took every ounce of self-control not to pry and ask her the million and one questions spinning in my head.
But I kept my distance.
Daxton teased me about this being a large step in my personal growth. So naturally, I stuck my tongue at him from across the table of books, showing him how far I’d come.
During our stay, we studied from the vast stack of archives in Aelius, working with Rhett and Seamus to try to devise a plan to overtake Taran and Minaeve’s army.
Yes, shifters had the physical strength, and the High Fae had powerful magic to take them on, but Minaeve had the Heart of Valdor to create the gods only knew what.
And from the information gathered by Shaw’s scouting party, she had other unworldly weapons in her arsenal from the wilt.
The fallen, harpies, and garmr.
I should have known those creatures would align with her cause. They were, after all, created by her magic.
“On the horizon!” a voice called out from the wall surrounding the palace below.
My heart leaped into my throat as I waited for a reply.
“They are signaling us at the harbor. They see something!”
I jumped to my feet, my chair sliding along the floor as I raced toward the balcony. The Aelius palace didn’t reside along the coastline, but it was on high enough ground that you could see the ocean from the taller stations.
I clutched the stone along the railing, fire scorching the rock beneath my touch. Rage, pure uninhibited rage, spiraled through me at the thought of Minaeve. I forced a deep breath through my lungs, trying to calm the surge of fury threatening to ignite my entire body.
As I lifted my gaze toward the eastern sea, I saw the shimmer of a lone sail on the horizon.
I called upon my shifter magic and allowed the flames within me to rise to the surface.
My vision blurred, then sharpened as my bones stretched into wings, feathers erupting into a cascade of burning light.
The world shifted with me, sound distorting into the rush of wind and the pounding of my own wings.
The fire in me soared free as I lifted from the balcony, wings slicing through the mist as the city of Aelius receded behind me.
The harbor stretched wide below, ships bobbing like figurines on the dark waves—but one ship sailed forward alone.
Daxton’s voice slid into my mind before I could even reach it. “Skylar, what are you doing?”
“Investigating.”
“You shouldn’t fly out and investigate on your own.”
“I’m not alone. I have an overprotective mate and high king watching over me.” I could practically feel Daxton’s eyes roll at my reply.
A sigh rippled through our bond. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you love me because of that fact.”
He didn’t answer, but I sensed his amusement through the bond.
As I neared, the ship’s details became clear. Its sails began loosening, slowing the ship’s speed as it cut through the crystalline waves. The name, Brightwater, was etched into the side of the hull.
Water nymphs surfaced and dove around the bow. Their songs echoed like bells through the mist, a warning for anyone who dared to enter our lands without an invitation. Their songs carried an eerie melody, guiding the vessel through the breakers and toward the shoreline.
Then I saw her. A woman stood at the front, red hair catching the faint sunlight like threads of flame. Her hands glowed with a soft golden light.
Recognition struck me so suddenly that my wings faltered for half a beat, hovering in midair as my flames retreated.
A healer. She was a healer.
The magic radiating from her was unmistakable, one I recognized as my own. I circled once, showing myself to the human ship’s captain, before sending a message through the bond.
“Daxton, let them through.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
As the ship entered the harbor, I descended, my flames dimming until my feet touched the sand.
The heat of transformation rippled outward, leaving only ash and sparks where my wings had been.
The magical base layer of clothing gifted from Idris remained intact.
I was still amazed at how they managed to create these for every member of my pack.
Daxton appeared beside me in a whisper of silver light.
His hand brushed mine—a silent stand of unity as we welcomed the humans into our land.
The ship docked. Ropes tightened, wood groaned, and then the human woman stepped onto the pier.
“Hello, High Queen and King,” she said, voice steady. Her round face was gentle, yet hard, the years of mortality showing in the lines around her eyes. “I’m Isolde, a healer loyal to the princess. And I have a message for you.” She paused, her breath catching as her gaze locked onto me.
Her eyes shimmered as tears welled, spilling freely down her pale cheeks. “Gods above,” she whispered, “you look so much like her. I’m sorry. I don’t understand how King Taran didn’t see it.”
My pulse flickered a beat. “Like who?”
“Like your mother,” she said softly, eyes squinting as she smiled. “Like Dawn.”
The name hit me like a clap of thunder in a summer storm. My breath caught, heat surging unbidden through my veins.
Dawn… My mother.
I’d only seen her twice. Once, when my phoenix was ripped from me in the Labyrinth, she appeared to me, offering to spare my human soul if I was unable to make it through to the center.
And then again, in death, I was able to see her at the crossing.
The portrait I found in Zircon City did not do her justice.
It couldn’t capture the wild, untamed beauty of the woman who stood proudly at my father’s side.
But I couldn’t deny the fact that when I looked at her portrait, I saw myself.
Even Princess Réalta had seen it—the truth neither of us could deny.
I swallowed heavily. “You knew my mother?”
She nodded.
Daxton’s hand found the small of my back, steadying me as the world tilted. “What message do you carry, healer?” he asked.
Isolde’s gaze shifted between us, her glowing palms dimming. “One,” she said quietly, “that I hope you’ll accept.”