Chapter 40 #3
Imani stole a glance at Esa, searching for regret, but the pixie’s expression was unreadable. Good, Imani thought. This secret is mine to bear.
“He may be the High Sentinel of the Eldritch, if he’s still alive,” Imani announced with more confidence than she felt. “He never claimed me. I doubt he ever will.”
Her confession hung heavy in the torchlight. Some councilors exchanged wary glances while others looked away.
The Niflheim king rubbed his jaw, stubble rasping under his fingers. “If your path leads to the Source and the Source sustains the Fabric…” He shook his head, as though willing away dread. “This is no longer your choice.”
Imani edged closer to Esa, voice low. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“I know,” Esa replied, face impassive.
Imani’s shoulders sagged. “Don’t expose my bloodline to half the realm again without warning me.”
“If I have time,” Esa said, “I will.”
“If you and I don’t unite, there won’t be a next time.”
“We are united in saving the realms,” Esa stated fiercely. “I won’t promise to protect every secret if keeping them will cost lives.”
Imani’s fingers clenched her wand. It pulsed in step with her anger. The weight of authority and friendship pressed on her chest.
Meira, seated on the dais beside Saevel, slipped from her seat and drifted down the steps, her crown’s glamour shimmering like quicksilver, but only to Imani, who, now without Kiran, was the most powerful witch in the room.
Meira laid a gentle hand on Imani’s arm.
The Throne’s aura rippled around her without recoil.
Saevel watched them, tenderness flickering in his vivid green eyes.
With a curt nod, Meira came to stand beside Imani. “You know what must be done,” she said, voice trembling with urgency. “If the Source fails, none of this will survive.”
Imani closed her eyes and pressed Meira’s hand. The torches flared as the earth groaned again, as though echoing every unspoken peril between them.
The words made Imani’s chest heave, but she held her sister’s stare.
“I know,” she said. “And I’ll go.” She took a deep breath, heavier this time, the cost clear as she forced it out.
“But it won’t be easy. They will come for us the moment I cross.
And if my father turns against me, nothing will hold the danger back. ”
Saevel raised his hands, and the room fell silent. “Imani and Esa will go to the Under,” he declared. “You will find the Source and bring back what we need to stop this. I will remain here. Kehomel will hold as I restore order and reinforce every defense before your return.”
Meira turned back to him. “And I’ll stay with you.”
He nodded with a small smile.
Imani came as close to the Throne as she dared, the Crown of Life’s petals fluttering against her brow in warning. She pointed to her chest. “I am your equal, Saevel,” she said. “I don’t take orders from you, but I will go because this realm will not fall under my reign.”
Saevel bowed his head. “Glad you agree, Your Majesty.”
She motioned to a steward taking notes in the circle’s corner. “Send word to Ellisar,” she said, her voice carrying authority as she issued the command. “Tell him to fortify every border, hold Essenheim, and continue ruling as regent until I return. Nothing moves without his approval.”
Niflheim’s security concerns and other planning obstacles caused a stir, and leaders spoke over one another about entry points, risks, and how the group would survive the Under.
Names flew. They debated routes and layered contingencies, one after another, as the focus narrowed onto her and Esa.
Still, every suggestion led to the same point: avoiding the danger was impossible.
“I’m going with Esa and my queen,” Lore said, resting a hand on Esa’s shoulder. “I will not send them into that place alone.”
“You are not required—” someone began, but Lore shot him a fierce glare.
“I am not asking,” he snapped. “If Esa goes, I go.”
A beat of silence held, then the room filled back in around them, voices overlapping as plans formed without waiting for Imani’s permission. She rubbed her chest, hoping no one would notice.
Crown, sister, father, bond, war. Each word made the knot in her stomach clench as the room’s leaders narrowed the path ahead into one she could no longer refuse.
A faint pull remained near her heart, tugging low and constant, the bond with Kiran refusing to break completely despite everything that had happened between them. It told her what her mind already knew.
He was still out there.
She squinted out the window, wondering where he was again.
Far beyond the city, over the Lundr mountains, a dark object cut through the sky, unsteady yet holding its altitude, leaving a dark trail of blood. Her limbs shook with the urge to run to the window for a closer look. Was it him? Was it another of his beasts he commanded in the Under Horde?
Imani shut her eyes, feeling ill at the thought of returning to the Under.
The Mesial kingdoms had fallen into place for her, but the world beneath them was coming apart. They would fight the next war where the dead still breathed.