Chapter 10
Calantha leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she kicked her feet up onto the table, her lens—now repaired—firmly in place.
“It cannot be done.” She dragged her tongue slowly over her teeth. “A bond cannot be broken.”
“But Levinica—”
“Levinica is mad.”
She fixed Malec with a sharp look, and he quickly dropped his gaze, the tips of his ears reddening. Her attention snapped back to us—Aedric at the head of the table, me at his side.
“You cannot do this, Aedric,” she said, her voice low and biting. “What if it’s a trap?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t. Levinica wouldn’t dare. There’s too much at stake for her.”
I heard the words, dimly, but they barely registered.
My attention was fixed on the center of the table. Last time I’d been in this room, blood had pooled across its surface—thick and dark—dripping from the corpse suspended above it.
My stomach roiled.
Only hours ago, I’d felt that same magic turning on me. The horrifying sensation of my organs, my very blood, beginning to boil inside me, heat spreading through my body…
I tore my thoughts away before they could finish.
If Sairus ever discovered the siphoning, I knew exactly how I would die.
If one dies, the other follows…
“El?” Aedric nudged me lightly, jolting me back to the moment. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I croaked. He turned back to the others, the discussion moving on without me.
My gaze lifted, and caught on Hamish. He was watching me, his honeyed eyes steady, his expression drawn tight with concern. He was easier to read since we’d become… something like friends. I looked away.
“If the Dark Prince is waiting for you—”
“If he were at the Court of Dusk already,” Aedric cut in, “do you think Veylan would have left? He’d never abandon his master’s side.” He planted his hands on the table, fingers splayed. “No. Levinica still holds her Court. That much is certain.”
“I don’t trust it,” Calantha muttered, worrying the skin beside her thumb. “Something is off. It could all be a fabrication.”
Aedric threw up his hands. “I’ve never known you to be this paranoid.”
“The Dark Prince’s return brings out the worst in all of us,” she shot back.
“Think logically,” Aedric pressed. “Veylan left the Court of Dusk. Which means he’s searching for Rìan. Why else would he travel all the way here?”
Calantha pursed her lips, but didn’t respond.
“We’ll go to Levinica under the pretense of returning Veylan to her, so she may exact her own justice.” Aedric leaned forward, his elbows braced against the table. “Once we’re there, we’ll press her to reveal her vision.”
“And if she refuses?” I asked.
His eyes hardened. “She won’t.”
I had no idea how he intended to force a High Lady to speak—but that was a problem for later. At best, she would tell us willingly. At worst…
Saerena’s face rose unbidden in my mind. He wouldn’t… Would he?
Calantha laced her fingers over the flat plane of her stomach, the leather bodysuit she wore as smooth as skin. “Well, we’re coming with you then.”
Aedric shook his head. “No. Only one of you.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Calantha hissed, lunging forward again. “You need protection, Aedric. Rìan found you once already—and far too easily. How can this possibly be a good idea?”
“If I arrive at Levinica’s Court surrounded, she’ll feel cornered.” Aedric drummed his fingers impatiently on the tabletop. “I don’t want this to look like political pressure. I need her cooperation. If we go in force, she’ll assume I’ve come as a threat. She’ll tell us nothing.”
Errol cleared his throat, his scarred face tightening in thought. “Even so… there is no even footing with Levinica. Not truly.” He hesitated. “If Neeken were still alive—”
Aedric’s fist struck the table with a crack that echoed through the chamber. I flinched.
Errol fell silent at once. The others exchanged uneasy glances.
Neeken had died months ago, slain by the Rask in the Thornlands. He and Aedric had been close—that much had always been clear. Not merely lord and soldier, but something more. Friends, perhaps even as close as he was to Hamish.
I placed my hand over Aedric’s forearm, the instinct to comfort him rising instinctively. His free hand closed over mine at once, grounding himself in the contact. He exhaled, the tension easing.
“One of you will come,” he repeated at last, addressing the room. Then his gaze settled. “Hamish.”
“Hamish?!” Calantha squawked, gripping the armrests. “Why him?”
Aedric huffed a quiet laugh, some of the earlier strain slipping from his shoulders. “Because he’s the better choice.”
“He is not!”
“At the very least,” Malec drawled, “El doesn’t hate him.”
“She doesn’t hate me!” Calantha snapped.
“I do, actually,” I said flatly.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she fixed on me across the table, and while the others hooted with laughter, I found no humor in it.
The lightness of their reactions unsettled me—as though what she had done to me, the pleasure she’d taken in it, the fear she’d carved into me, was no more serious than children squabbling.
How could that be a joke to them?
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing my expression still as she blinked at me.
“Veylan will be kept in iron,” Aedric said, cutting through the moment.
“Hamish is the only one among us who can manage the collar and chains. It makes the most sense.” He leaned back, tapping a thoughtful rhythm against the table.
“He’s the least threatening among us. Most Fae overlook him because he has no magic. Levinica will do the same.”
My eyes drifted once more to Hamish.
A mountain of a male—broad, imposing—and at first glance, there was nothing about him that should have inspired comfort. He looked fierce, formidable… anyone who didn’t know better would find him terrifying. And yet, he was a good male with a good heart—with or without magic.
He caught my eye again and held it.
“I would be honored to accompany you,” he said quietly. But it wasn’t Aedric he was speaking to.
“Excellent.” Aedric clapped his hands once.
The chamber doors opened. Sairus swept in, his robes trailing behind him, his expression curdled with contempt. His collar sat high against his throat, concealing the burn Aedric had given him, but the stiffness of his posture betrayed the insult.
“What is this?” he asked coolly, his gaze sweeping the room.
“A secret meeting, of course,” Aedric said, smooth as drawn steel.
Sairus’s mouth tightened. “Apparently.”
“Aedric will be skelding to the edge of the Dusklands with Elowen and Hamish,” Calantha said quickly, straightening in her seat at once. “To return Veylan to Levinica. We’ve already sent word.” Nothing about the bond.
“A traveling circus across Elantis,” Sairus said dryly. “How quaint.”
Aedric gestured to the empty seat. “You're welcome to join us.” His smile was courteous enough, but there wasn't a trace of warmth in it.
“How generous.” Sairus’s tone turned silken. “But I bring more pressing matters than returning a stray to its mistress.”
Aedric lifted a brow.
“Tharuun have been spotted.”
The air shifted. Aedric stilled, his entire body going rigid. “Where?”
“Along the Stonelands border,” Sairus said, steepling his fingers. “The Court has delayed the selection of a new High Lady while they reinforce their wards.”
“The wards won’t hold without a High Lady to anchor them.”
“True. But securing the borders is… urgent.” Sairus’s lips curved faintly. “Two have already taken a village.”
“Any survivors?”
“An odd goat here and there.”
Silence fell.
“What are Tharuun?” I asked, low.
Aedric’s expression darkened. “Giants.”
“Giants?”
“Surely you’ve heard the stories,” Sairus interjected, folding his hands in front of him. “Velmyrra—the great tree in Thistra. The one the palace was built in. It grew from—”
“—the heart of a giant,” I whispered, remembering.
“The Tharuun were one of the Seven Firstborn,” Sairus said, something pointed entering his voice.
The words landed like a blow. More of the Firstborn had returned.
More had killed.
Blood again.
“How bad is it?” Aedric laced his fingers, though his grip was tight. “Storms? Flooding?”
“Wind,” Sairus replied.
“Wind?” I echoed weakly.
“The Tharuun command the elements. That is the foundation of their power.” He looked back to Sairus. “They must still be reacclimating.”
“Indeed,” Sairus agreed. “After centuries in confinement, this world is… different from what they remember.”
“Hopefully their power won’t return in full. Not with Elantis as it is now.”
“We can only hope.”
Calantha leaned forward, her teeth barred. “All the more reason for you not to go unguarded.”
“I’ve made my decision.” Aedric’s voice sharpened. “And you will oversee Court affairs in my absence.”
She exhaled through her nose, her displeasure plain, but straightened. “Of course.”
“Sairus,” Aedric said.
Sairus inclined his head.
“You will take a contingent to the Stonelands. Choose those strongest in channeling. Assist the Court of Stone in reinforcing their defenses.” His voice cooled. “And observe. Determine which daughter would best serve as an ally… and strengthen her claim.”
“I shall depart immediately,” Sairus said with a shallow bow.
He turned toward the door, pausing only once to glance back, eyes gleaming. “Safe travels, my Lord.”
Aedric gave a short nod. Sairus left.
Aedric turned to Calantha. “Keep him in line.”
“Yes, cousin.” For all her confidence, I caught the flicker of hesitation as she bit her lip. Her father was the only one who ever unsettled her. That alone was enough to make me queasy.
“What about us?” Malec asked, gesturing to himself and Errol.
“Do as you always do,” Aedric said with a dismissive wave. “Fight. Drink. Whore.” A faint smirk touched his mouth. “Listen for dissent—and remove it.”
“We always get the hard ones, don’t we?” Malec grinned, elbowing Errol in the ribs.
“I thought you preferred the hard ones,” Errol shot back.
Laughter rippled through the room.
They were strangers.
They looked the same—the same people I’d laughed with, trusted, lived beside—and yet something had shifted.
But it was as though, when the Veil fell, so too had whatever illusion I’d been clinging to.
The warmth I’d once seen in them… the kindness…
the sense of belonging I’d found in their company… it all felt thinner now. False.
Now, when I looked at them, I saw something else. Something I didn’t like. And I didn’t know if that change was in them—or in me.
It was Dheren. It had to be. The endless dark pressing in on all sides, warping everything it touched, until every pool of shadow became a lurking shape if you looked at it long enough. Darkness had a way of bending things.
More than ever, I wanted out. Out from beneath the earth. Out of this place.
Maybe when this was over—when the bond was broken, when the nightmare finally ended—I would see things differently again. Maybe the world would soften, brighten, and I would remember what it had been like when I first met them, back in Solmire.
When things had been lighter. When I had believed in them.
I found myself yearning for tomorrow to come.
Maybe when I saw the sun again…
I would remember how to laugh.