Chapter 6 #3
The thought of him sent a dull pang through my chest.
“The mortal lands.” The words slipped out as my unease deepened.
Aedric’s expression tightened. “What of them?”
“The Infected were warded into the Court of Thorns. But the Veil was the only thing separating the mortal lands from the Thornlands… and now it’s down.”
Aedric looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but here. “El —” he began.
The look on his face made my stomach drop. “Tell me.”
He exhaled and dragged his fingers through his wet hair before answering. His tone was careful, measured, as though he were speaking to a skittish animal. “We don’t know.”
I stared at him. “What does that mean?”
He bit the inside of his cheek. “He retreated back into the land when the Veil fell, but we don’t know where he’s gone. No one will venture beyond the wards. That would be suicide…”
“He’s loose in the mortal lands.” Fear iced my veins as realization washed over me.
He met my gaze, pain etched across his face. “I’m sorry, El.”
I rose abruptly from the bath, and he stood immediately, wrapping the towel around me. It was warm, a soft cocoon against my skin, but the chill inside me only deepened.
“We have to do something.”
Without a word, he lifted me from the bath as though I weighed nothing and set me down on the obsidian floors. Heat radiated up through my feet, but it did nothing to steady me.
“He’ll take all of them.” I pushed away from him. “We need to stop him.”
“There’s nothing we can do.” His voice was grave.
I gaped at him, the world narrowing to the dull pounding in my ears.
He groaned softly and went on. “If Tharnyx has taken the mortal realm, he’ll be too strong to fight. Even if he is the last of his kind.”
“So that’s it?” I demanded. “We leave the wards in place, seal the humans in with him, and let them die?”
“Yes.”
I stumbled back, slipping in the water my feet had left behind. His arm shot out, catching me before I could fall, but I wrenched free of his grip.
“Right now, all we can do is contain him.” His face hardened, steel settling into his features.
The High Lord, making a choice meant to save his people.
“We will find a solution.” He offered it as reassurance, but I could hear the emptiness beneath the words.
He didn’t believe there was anything to be done. The humans were already lost.
The truth struck so hard my knees nearly gave way, despair swallowing me whole.
Everyone was gone. Laurie was gone.
Aedric guided me gently from the bathing chamber and sat me on the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of me. He took my hands in his. Mine were cold, stark against his radiant warmth.
“El.” It was a hard command. “Do not dwell on it.”
I barely managed to nod.
“You once told me you worked to stave off the Infection in the mortal realm,” he continued. “That you spent your life trying to save as many as you could.”
He squeezed my hands.
“You cut off an arm to save a life,” he said firmly. “Or took a head to save a village.”
His eyes held mine, blue and fierce, almost savage in their certainty.
“This is no different. Cling to that.”
I nodded, though the words burned my ears.
“Humans are weak,” he went on. “Fragile. It’s unfortunate, but they’re always the first to fall. What matters now is that Tharnyx may be building an army. When he’s gathered enough bodies, he will test the wards again. And they may not be strong enough to hold him.”
My stomach churned.
“When that happens,” Aedric tightened his grip on my hands, “we must be ready. And we must have a solution.”
“Me,” I offered weakly.
He paused, considering, almost hesitant. “It would… certainly help to have a full-powered Eidra capable of obliterating him.”
He released my hands and placed his on my thighs, exhaling deeply.
“We must continue your training. You must keep practicing, keep learning to wield what you are. Your magic is not yours alone. It is the accumulation of generations of Eidrae who came before you. We must unlock its memory.” He leaned closer so his forehead touched mine. “It’s our best chance of surviving.”
I nodded, the weight of reality pressing down until my chest felt tight. Nausea curled in my gut.
The survival of the world rested on me?
It was as though he’d read my thoughts.
“You are not alone,” Aedric murmured firmly, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheek. “We will do this together. We will fight, and we will win.”
His lips grazed mine, light and fleeting, before he released me and stood. He studied me, a frown creasing his brow. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine,” I managed, though I felt anything but.
“I’m sending a healer,” he said over his shoulder as he crossed to the wardrobe and pulled it open.
I shook my head. “Please, Aedric. I’m fine. Just… tired.”
“I need to be sure,” he said, pulling on loose trousers and a plain long sleeved shirt. He slipped on a pair of clean shoes and moved toward the door. “I want to know that you healed thoroughly. I still don’t understand how you did it. It was a miracle.”
He was right. I’d been burned nearly to death, a wound inflicted by a Firstborn that should not have been survivable. My thoughts drifted to Rìan, to the moment I’d faced him, and a shiver worked its way through me.
“Aedric,” I said.
He stopped and turned back, waiting.
I wanted to tell him. To explain that I’d grasped the thread of magic Rìan had left inside me and pulled it tight, that it had somehow strengthened my own power and allowed me to heal. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to speak of the Dark Prince again, or even to think of him right now.
I swallowed.
“Yes,” I said instead. “You’re right.”
He nodded once. “You endured attacks from two different Firstborn and survived. Saerena will examine you.”
I hesitated, then blurted, “Did I hear correctly? There are… dragons?”
He regarded me for a long moment. “Unfortunately, yes. They are the ones who built Solmire and the Citadel.”
“Dragons,” I repeated faintly. “I thought you said Solmire was built by sun worshippers.”
“And who better to worship the sun,” he replied calmly, “than the creatures who can fly closest to it?”
His hand closed around the door handle. “Don’t think about that now. We’re safe here. Dragons don’t like being underground.”
He left, closing the door softly behind him.
I lay back against the bed, staring at the ceiling, my body trembling. There was something suffocating in the knowledge that we were buried miles beneath the earth.
Dragons might not like being underground.
But neither did I.