Chapter 24
RAINIER
With great force, Em shut the study door behind her. The sigh which escaped her was heavy, and she collapsed into one of the plush chairs on the edge of the room. She didn’t greet me, didn’t smile, and only closed her eyes in exhaustion. My wife had been preparing for Cethina’s return all day, and I knew the sound of the horns would have sent her scrambling to the healing tent.
“Since you’re here, I assume she has not begun?” I asked, taking my spectacles off. Reading by candlelight, even of the divine variety, strained my eyes, but I hated to wear the spectacles. A vain part of me hadn’t wanted Em to see me wear them, the reminder that my vision wasn’t as good as it used to be only drawing attention to all the time we’d wasted apart.
“She hasn’t, no. But the number of wounded is already increasing. Rain, you need to let me take a dragon out.” Exasperated, she propped her head in her hands. “I know you’ve been unable to get close to her, but?—”
“I’ve failed to get close to her, is what you mean.”
“I didn’t say that.” At this, she finally looked up. Her brows crinkled, and her mouth tightened. “She is their fiercest weapon. Of course, they position her so it’s impossible to get to her. That’s why I want to take a dragon out. If we are rid of Cethina, the blight is gone, and I can heal the other soldiers faster. The less time they’re gone, the more soldiers we have out there.”
I sat back in my chair, fingers steepled in front of me. After my council meeting, which had lasted far longer than it ought to have, I’d been poring over my father’s documents. I was hoping to find something to help me make sense of Cyran’s letter. I’d grown frustrated, between high ranking members of the court complaining about their cramped quarters and reading my father’s incoherent ramblings. But with Em, I made sure to dismiss those feelings and take her request seriously. Unleashing the dragons was a risk to her, and the very thought of losing one and hurting her made me sick to my gods damn stomach. But, I knew she had a point. Cethina was a force to be reckoned with, and every day, I wished I’d killed her when I had the chance.
When my betrothal with Keeva had been announced, Cethina had been sent in Nereza’s stead to accept the agreement, and it would have been so easy to end her right then and there. At the time, there had been no cause. But now, I wished I would have had some sort of foresight. I wondered how my father’s seer stayed in the position for so long. As far as royal advisors went, he was useless. If I had procured my own seer back then, it might have been different. But I hadn’t wanted to look into a future that didn’t include the woman who sat across from me. Her golden-brown hair had grown dull, and despite her bath the night before, the sweat and grime had already coated her.
“Which dragon?” I asked, not allowing myself to outright deny her. This argument would keep coming up until the siege was over.
Her eyes lit, and she sat up straight. “Lux and Ifash,” she said without hesitation. She’d already thought of this. “I suppose Irses would come along too, or else he might tear down the whole palace. Although, if Irses comes, then?—”
“Ryo will not leave his side. So that makes four dragons. Em, I know what you’re after, but?—”
“I’m after ending this siege, or at the very least, maiming their forces. I’m after protecting Astana, Rain.”
“As am I.”
She rolled her lips in, biting the plump flesh. Her hands twisted in her lap, and she looked down.
“Go on. Say what you need to say, Em.”
“I think you’re being selfish.”
I swallowed, running my hand over my face. It was the one argument which would strike to the core of me. It was my duty to protect Vesta, and so far, I’d failed at it.
“Em, we can’t risk?—”
“We can risk me, if it means ending this siege. I know you don’t mean to put us before our people?—”
“I definitely intend to put you before our people,” I countered.
“Rain. Stop it,” she said, though a smile twisted her lips. “I know you don’t mean that. But, without?—”
“Emmeline. I do mean that. Yes, our people are important, and ordinarily, I shouldn’t put you first,” I began, but without hesitation, added, “I would, because you’re mine, and you are my entire reason for fucking living.” She only glared at me, and I wished to reach out and smooth that furrow between her brows. “But you are the Beloved . More than just the people of Astana count on you, Em.”
She frowned before sitting back and rubbing her arms.
“Are you cold, dear heart?’
“No.”
“What if I rode Lux?” I asked. There was little I disliked more than how much misery my answer brought her, and I sought to fix it. I hated the idea of something happening to Lux, and it causing Em pain, but at least she’d be safely tucked within the city walls.
“She’s never even let me ride her.”
“Wonder where she gets that from,” I said, breathing out a frustrated laugh.
“I didn’t even mean to think of Lucia when I created her,” she admitted. “She was Dewalt’s dragon, so I thought of him. And, well, you know where my mind went.” She stood, tilting her neck back and forth, before placing her hands on her lower back and stretching. After she stretched, she leaned over me. She draped her arms around my neck and nuzzled against my skin, and the golden bond between us seemed to purr.
“You should sleep while you can,” I said. “Cethina won’t hesitate, come first light.”
“Did you mean it? About Lux?” she whispered.
I placed my hands over hers and closed my eyes. The very thought scared the fuck out of me, but I didn’t know how much longer Em would tolerate waiting. The knowledge that innocents were dying grated on her, and eventually, she’d throw caution to the wind. But with the Accursed unknown, her efforts could be disastrous.
“Yes. Tomorrow,” I promised.
Down the bond, far stronger now than it had been in weeks, relief and fear tumbled toward me as one.
“What if you get hurt?” she asked. “What if Lux gets hit, and you die?”
“Dear heart, every day I go beyond those walls, I could die. At least with Lux, her divine fire will make a dent in their numbers.” With triple the soldiers attacking as we had defending, anything would help.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she said, before nipping my ear.
“Come here.”
Guiding her to sit in my lap, I pulled Cyran’s letter from my father’s desk. I’d folded it and unfolded it a few dozen times while I’d been thinking of its contents, and her fingertip traced the worn parchment.
“Cyran has encountered a puzzle he is unable to solve,” I said. “I was hoping there might be something here, in my father’s things, that might give me clarity.”
She opened the letter, taking a few moments to read over the prince’s words. Feeling her confusion and exasperation through the bond loosened something in my chest. Em and I were in this together, and if anyone could understand, it was her. But when she spoke, it wasn’t about the gods forsaken prophecy at all.
“‘ Elora sends her regards to Your Majesties, ’” she murmured, quoting the closing of Cyran’s letter. “I suppose I’ll have to count that towards her speaking to me.”
“Give her time,” I said, but Em shook herself free from my embrace. Leaning over my father’s desk, she perused the items I’d pulled out.
“Well, I suppose first, we must decide which god we will appeal to, because that could change their insufferable riddle,” she mused.
“Aonara?”
“I thought her—or perhaps Ciarden.”
“Not Hanwen?”
She tilted her head to the side, thoughtful. “We could ask Ciarden to withdraw his blessing from Nereza or the Supreme or whoever the hell the Accursed is. I think we are more likely to win with cleverness than force, don’t you?”
She picked up the letter from Larke Umbroth, my father’s first wife, preserved for centuries with reverent handling.
“Would you ask Aonara to do the same?”
“No,” she said, turning to face me. Leaning against the desk, she held Larke’s letter up to the candlelight. “I don’t know why, but I think Aonara’s gifts, when wielded properly, are stronger than the shadows. Besides, I’ve met the gods, and she...I don’t know. She was the only one who didn’t scare me or anger me.”
“I think Aonara, then,” I said. “Ciarden doesn’t...I don’t like that idea either.”
“Aonara’s bane and my bane, then. Or Vesta’s bane?” she asked, smirking at me over the letter from Larke. “I think Vesta and mine might be the same, though.”
“Oh?”
“Look at the date on this letter,” she said, shoving it toward me. “She mentions how eager she is for him to return from Lamera, because she’s worried about something. I think it was the last one she wrote your father.”
Holding the parchment far closer to my face than I would have liked, I checked the date. “What’s the significance?”
She rolled her eyes. “The governess was right when she called you insufferable.”
Grinning, I grabbed for her hips and pulled her close. “You were only around her for a few weeks at a time. Do you know how cruel it was to make us have lessons in the summer?”
Leaning down to kiss me, she smiled against my lips. I knew these moments would continue to be few and far between in our days to come, so I relished them.
“She fell from the tower a week later. During Zaphus’ visit, when Soren escorted him to the capital.”
“The Supreme was here when she jumped?” I asked, pulling back from her with widened eyes. Part of me had wanted to start referring to the Supreme by his given name, undermining the title he’d been given, but old habits were hard to break.
“I think he was the one who pushed her. Or, at least, goaded her into jumping,” she said.
I blinked, shaking my head. “And what made you come to this conclusion?” We’d barely had any time to think about the letters we’d found while researching the prophecy. And researching each other upon my throne, I supposed.
“Think about it. She was with child, Rain. She was eager for Soren to return, but the baby might not have been your father’s.”
“You think it was the Supreme’s child?” I asked, shocked by the idea.
“No.” She frowned at me. “Tannyl.”
“Oh. Yes. My mother said it could have been either of them. But what does that have to do with the Supreme?”
She began to pace, and I fought the urge to do the same. Her mind was moving far faster than mine was capable of at the moment, but it was fascinating to watch.
“The Supreme disapproved of Tannyl. And the Myriad was notorious for disliking the elves. Zaphus and Larke were friends . What if he said something to her? Something that set her off the edge?”
“Tannyl died, though. That’s why she did it.”
“Then maybe the Supreme had something to do with his death.” She shook her head. “Him being involved is too much of a coincidence to me.”
“Let’s say you’re right, Em,” I began.
“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped, dropping her posture and making her round hip pop outward. Arms crossed over her chest, the attitude emanating from her placed me back in time by about sixteen years.
“I’m not patronizing. I just don’t understand what that has to do with him being the bane of Vesta. I assume that’s what you’re getting at? I’m not saying you’re wrong. If anyone is the fucking bane, I’m sure it’s him. But I’m just trying to follow.”
“What happened after she died, Rain?”
I stared at her. “The Great War.”
She nodded, confidence growing as I came to understand what she was getting at. “I mean, if you want to split hairs, there was only that brief lull from the fighting when they were married, but after she died?—”
“After she died, Folterra and Vesta were at odds again—worse than ever before. Peace was only a dream after that.”
“Cyran seemed to think the favor probably required the summoner’s bane, considering what Declan had been attempting,” she started, wetting her lips. “Considering Declan probably stole my sister’s gods damned skull because he thought she was the Beloved—his bane. Gods, did Dryul take her blood when she died?”
The man hadn’t gotten close enough to Lucia to take her blood, but Em had a point about the bones. Rocking back and forth slightly, with a faraway look, I knew what she was about to say.
“Em, I don’t?—”
“We need the Supreme’s bones.”
The beach was cold. A breeze slammed into me, and my teeth began chattering.
“Where are we?” Em asked, grasping my hand. I jumped, not realizing she was here with me.
“Cyran, you think?”
“He wouldn’t be able to reach us. Thyra and Shivani didn’t let anything fall through the cracks when they warded Crown Cottage. If it’s him, he would have had to leave, and I really hope he’s not that dumb.”
Em wore the nightgown she fell asleep in, but I wore something unrecognizable. A loose fitting tunic, and trousers that went to mid-shin. It was like something a child would wear.
“Did you pull us into a dream together?” I asked, not sure how she could have managed it without trying, but the hard cocoon of shadows I’d had to wake her from was all I could think of.
“No,” she said, stepping closer to me.
We stood in silence, staring out at the rocky beach. The water was a steel grey, still like a lake. Above us, the morning sky was nearly solid white, the sun hidden behind the clouds. As far as I could see, there was only stone and water. Interspersed between the sand and rock were tiny shells, smooth as bone. I shivered, thinking of the conversation Em and I had before bed. We hadn’t spoken about it as we drifted to sleep, exhausted enough to truly appreciate the last night of decent rest we’d have in a while.
Staring at the ground, I wondered if I was actually remembering a moment from my past, or if I was losing my mind. When my shoe, which looked remarkably like a child’s shoe in style, scuffed the ground, the sound helped me find clarity.
“I think we’re in Nythyr.”
Em tensed beside me, squeezing my waist tighter.
“You think correctly, Rainier.”
Spinning toward the voice, I instinctively shoved Em behind me.
“What are we doing here, Nereza?” I demanded.
I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, but she looked the same as I remembered her. Her light brown hair was pulled into a long braid down the center of her back. Her skin was pale, and she had delicate features, though it seemed as if she smelled something foul. I supposed, though there was no King Consort of Nythyr, Nereza must have performed the bonding ceremony with someone; she appeared younger than me.
“I am simply paying an old friend a favor,” she said, voice thickly accented and sounding almost inquisitive.
“We have never been friends, have we?” I asked, hand firmly encircling Em’s wrist to keep her behind me. Though we were in a dream, I didn’t know what kind of damage the woman might have been able to do.
“Not you,” she said, somehow managing to look down her nose at me despite her lesser height. As the woman walked closer, I adjusted, keeping Em hidden behind me. “Not her, either. Although, I am intrigued. What a marvelous addition to my family she would have been. How did you follow him?”
“What?” she asked, and despite the situation, Em’s voice didn’t waver. “What do you mean?”
“I only summoned him here,” she said. “That’s the reason for the clothing.”
When I frowned at the woman, she laughed, and the ringing bell of her voice made me grind my teeth. “That was what you wore when you and your mother visited me,” she said. “I still have the shell you gifted me from this very beach.”
I stiffened, not remembering any such thing. For her to speak of collecting and gifting shells seemed to taint what I’d done for Em for so long. The bond felt strange in this dream-state, but I still sensed the repulsion ebbing from my wife.
“I don’t know how I am here, but I would very much like to leave,” Em said.
“My apologies. I heard how you appreciate his little trinkets.”
“What do you want with my husband?”
The Nythyrian queen laughed once more, leaning over to eye the woman I kept behind me. I didn’t want her to know what Em looked like, if I could avoid it. “Possessive, aren’t we? I simply am here to give your husband one final chance. As a favor to an old friend of mine.”
“Chance for what?” I demanded.
“To give us what we asked for? It is not much, I don’t think.”
My heart stopped beating, hoping to the gods she wouldn’t continue speaking after I answered. Harshly, with as much venom as I could muster, I said, “Nereza, I made myself clear. The answer will always be no.”
“Is that her answer or yours?” the woman asked, and she adjusted our surroundings, shifting us so she stood behind Em. My wife whirled to face her, and Nereza stared back. Taking in each detail of the woman I loved, I wondered if I was about to lose her.
“Ours,” I said at the same time that Em asked her what she was talking about.
“I see,” Nereza said. “I don’t blame you for not telling her. I would likely do the same.”
“I told her enough,” I said, lying through my teeth. When Dewalt had met with the Supreme and Nereza, and he’d returned with their demands, I knew Em would give in without hesitation if I told her the truth. So, I’d decided not to.
“You told her we would retreat once we had her blood? And this is the choice she made?”
Em reached behind her, grabbing my hand and squeezing hard.
“The choice we made was for Vesta,” I said, doing my best to not let my voice break under the duress and heartbreak I was feeling from Em. And yet, my dear heart said nothing. “You can’t have her blood.”
“So be it,” Nereza said. “No one can say I didn’t try.”
Abruptly, the beach disappeared, and we were back in our chamber—sweaty and out of breath. Em used her divine fire to light the candle before jumping from the bed.
“What in the gods’ name was she talking about?” Em shouted at me. “You said they demanded me . That they would kill me .”
“Yes, because I knew you would entertain their demands,” I argued. “You considered sacrificing your life, too. What would you have me do, Em? Deliver you to the Supreme myself?”
I stood on the other side of the bed, naked and pleading with her. Should I have trusted her? Probably. But that didn’t change my decision. She was impulsive and soft-hearted. She would do anything to stop the current suffering, regardless of the repercussions.
Em stalked across the room, pulling her robe over her nightgown. “And you talked me out of it. You made me understand, Rain. You should have trusted me to trust in you.”
The sorrow rippling down the bond brought tears to my own eyes. “You’re right. I just... I panicked, Em. I’m sorry.”
She only shook her head, turning to look out the window. I walked toward her, ready to wrap my arms around her and make my apology clear, when I came to a dead halt.
The horns rang out, louder and far more insistent than they ever had before.