14. Fourteen
Fourteen
Nova retreated to the familiar calm of the library, falling into the soft embrace of the armchair before the crackling fire.
She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of leather and aged paper.
Her reprieve was short-lived with voices soon approaching from the hall and Callan and Nox entering a moment later.
“I thought we might find you here.” Callan immediately crossed to where she sat. He knelt before her, a wide smile on his face. “You were wonderful,” he murmured, radiating pride.
“Shall I call for tea?” Nox asked.
“Yes.” Nova sighed. “And sandwiches.”
Nox stepped into the hallway, and Nova wrapped her arms around Callan’s shoulders as he held her close.
“I was so nervous,” she whispered against his neck, the remaining tension in her body melting away.
“It didn’t show,” he assured her.
When Nox returned a short time later, it was with Bryn and Lucan in tow. A kitchen maid carrying a large tray followed close on their heels. The tray was deposited on the wide desk, and everyone found seats around the room.
“We should be drinking wine to toast you, Nova,” Lucan said, raising a gilded porcelain teacup instead. She waved him off, fighting the heat rushing to her cheekbones.
“Where do you suppose we stand?” she asked before biting into a ham and cheese sandwich.
“We already have the support of the Winter and Lunar Courts,” Callan said, gesturing around the room. “Estrid and Rowan are desperate to get Fawn back, so I’d wager we’ll have support from Autumn as well.”
“What about Solar?” Nova asked. “Siris seemed unconvinced, and Sienna spoke little.”
“As the Celestial Courts, we’ve always had a cordial relationship with Sonnend,” Nox replied from where he sat in the chair behind Fawn’s desk. “Siris and Sienna are practical folk. Their border is most at risk. They see the warning signs. I believe they’ll stand with us.”
“I’ll tell you who won’t stand with us.” Lucan curled his lip, baring his teeth. “That Wyldling prick.”
“Perhaps his sister can make him see reason,” Bryn offered with more optimism than Nova deemed realistic.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said distractedly, recalling the weight of Arthur’s arrogance when he addressed her. “Lord Arthur feels he has something to prove. He’ll go his own way, for better or worse.”
“That just leaves Summer,” Lucan said.
A light knock sounded, and Lady Samira appeared in the doorway. She instantly commanded the room’s attention, chest high and chin level, her head nearly reaching the top of the doorframe.
“Samira,” Callan said with familiarity as he rose to greet her. “I thought you’d already left.”
“I’m about to, but I couldn’t leave without saying hello,” she replied, her dark brown eyes finding Nova’s.
Callan held his hand out to Nova, and she joined them while Lucan and Bryn fell into a debate of bows versus blades.
“Samira, this is Nova.” Callan gestured between the two of them.
Nova started to bow, but Samira reached out and touched her arm, halting her.
“You spoke with such conviction before the Council,” she said. “I would have supported you wholeheartedly even if I didn’t already know Callan and trust his judgment.”
“I served as a hired sword in Samira’s Court for a time,” Callan explained.
“Your support is most welcome,” Nova replied. “We need all we can get.”
After a brief chat, the three of them joined the others in the sitting area, and Samira helped herself to a cup of tea.
As Nova was about to take her seat once more, the fire flared on the hearth with a roar that died down as quickly as it arose. Nova spun to find Evander charging toward her, his impish face twisted in an expression of pure ire.
“You,” he spat, a ringed finger pointed at her. “This is your fault.”
Before Evander could reach her, Callan invaded her field of vision, placing his body in front of hers and cutting off his cousin’s path. Evander collided with Callan, but kept coming. When Callan caught him around the ribs, halting his advance, Evander jabbed a finger in the air again.
“You’re the cause of this whole fucking mess.”
“Calm yourself, Cousin.” A warning bristled beneath the surface of the words intended to douse the flames of Evander’s temper.
“I will not!” Evander shouted, shoving against Callan’s chest and stepping out of his reach.
He turned his attention back to Nova. Though his teeth were clenched in anger, anguish shone in his eyes.
“If we hadn’t gone to you . . . If Fawn hadn’t come to your aid, the Shadowbringer would never have known how powerful she is.
If it weren’t for you, Fawn would be home where she belongs. ”
Stunned into silence, Nova opened and closed her mouth.
How could she refute him when she’d secretly spoken the same words to herself countless times since learning of Fawn’s abduction?
She glanced around the room. Lucan was on his feet, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She shook her head at the commander.
Evander tried to close the distance to her again, but Callan seized him roughly by the collar and walked him back.
“Keep. Your. Distance.” Callan’s voice was calm, but the command in his words crowded the room. “It would bring me no joy, but I will end you if you threaten my mate.”
“Get your hands off me.” Evander shoved once more against Callan’s chest. He shook his head, his nose wrinkled in disgust, the collar of his fine jacket hanging loose and misshapen around his neck. “You’re no cousin of mine.”
With a final look to Nova, Evander turned, charging past the shocked onlookers and out of the library.
In an instant, Callan was at her side, Lucan as well.
All eyes on her. Too many eyes. Her chest tightened painfully as if it might crack open and spill her sorrow—her guilt—on the floor at her feet.
She waved everyone off, crossing to the wall of windows and staring out over the sea of terracotta-colored leaves rippling in the breeze.
Callan stayed away, but his uneasiness lingered at the edge of her awareness.
Soon, Nox was distracting the others with idle chat.
It’s all right, her uncle’s voice spoke softly in her mind. You’re not to blame.
The other voices behind her faded to a low hum.
Nox was wrong. It was her fault. However unwittingly, she had awoken something the night she crossed the Boundary into Aemoria.
Her very presence in the Fae Realm seemed to have strengthened Omen.
Revived his desire for chaos. For destruction.
She had started this, and she needed to finish it.
Nova released a shaky breath as she watched the changing of the guard on the rampart beyond the window. Weary soldiers replaced by others whose sunken, red-rimmed eyes suggested they’d barely had any time to rest since their last watch.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Nova said abruptly. The chatter ceased as she spun around. “I won’t sit idle for a fortnight while the Council weighs its decision. Not when Fawn and so many others need help now.”
“What choice do we have?” Lucan asked, glancing first at Nox, then at Callan.
Nova paced before the wide windows for a moment, infuriated by how utterly useless she felt. Out the corner of her eye, one of the sentries posted on the rampart drew her sword from its sheath, preparing to sharpen the blade. Nova stopped short.
“I could hunt for the remnants of my father’s sword,” she said, turning back to face the others.
Callan looked up at her from where he stood before the fireplace, one elbow leaning on the mantelpiece. He wore a familiar expression, one that signified his mind was whirring, evaluating the merits of her plan.
“We don’t know where to look,” he said finally.
“All the more reason to start now,” Nova argued. “Who knows how long it might take to uncover them all.”
“Perhaps I know where they are,” Bryn offered. All eyes fell upon her, and the room went silent once more.
“I’m not saying I do,” she clarified, holding her hands out in front of her. “But I was in Omen’s war room countless times. Perhaps I saw something but the enchantment blinded me to it. You read minds, don’t you?” Bryn leaned forward looking squarely at Nox, who squirmed a bit in his seat.
“I do,” he answered. “That is, I can.”
“Well, why don’t you have a look around and see if you can find anything useful,” Bryn suggested, tapping a finger against the leafy markings on her right temple.
“Very well,” Nox said after a beat. He rose from his seat and motioned for Bryn to join him. “You’re certain you’re comfortable with this?” he asked.
“For gods’ sake, Nox. It was her idea,” Lucan groaned.
Nox raised a chiding brow at his commander before looking back to the Wyldling, who nodded her assent.
Nox took her hands in his and closed his eyes as the rest of them watched expectantly.
Apart from the faint flicker of movement behind his eyelids, he stood motionless for several minutes before his eyes snapped back open.
“I saw a map,” he said, his gaze flitting around the room.
Realizing what Nox was searching for, Nova rushed behind Fawn’s desk and pulled a worn map of Aemoria from the top drawer. It was the same one she had studied for hours under Fawn’s instruction after she arrived in the Fae Realm.
Nova spread the parchment out on the desk, smoothing her fingers over its rough surface and holding down the curling edges. Nox peered over her shoulder.
“The map had a marker there,” he said, pointing to a body of water located nearly in the center of Tundara.
The others circled around the desk, bowing their heads for a closer look. Samira studied the map, her brows knitted together.
“That’s Lotus Lake,” she said. “A dangerous place guarded by a creature we call Mara. Folk say she was once a female whose lover took her life by drowning her in the water.”
“What’s she guarding?” Lucan asked.
“According to the legend: a trove at the bottom. It’s said that those who seek the treasure die in the pursuit. The creature uses her song to lure males to their deaths. Desperate to reach her, they wade blissfully into the water and drown.”
“Will you take me there?” Nova asked.
“Yes, of course,” Samira replied. “But how are you planning to get past Mara, let alone find this piece of the sword?”
“I have no idea,” Nova admitted. “But it’s the only clue we’ve got.”
Samira nodded and excused herself to prepare for her departure. Bryn offered to gather their belongings from their quarters and took her leave as well.
“Sorry,” Nova said, eyeing Callan, Lucan, and Nox with an apologetic smile. “No males allowed, it seems.”
“As much as I love an adventure, we should return to Silvergard as soon as possible,” Lucan said. “I’ll prepare our things and send for the horses.”
“With the mercenaries joining Omen, I’m concerned others may follow suit,” Nox added.
Lucan pulled Nova into a tight hug. After clasping arms with Callan, the commander left the library.
Nox fished for Nova’s hand. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Nova nodded and embraced her uncle, who then turned to Callan.
“See that my niece keeps her promise.”
Callan laid a hand over his heart.
“Nova is quite capable of protecting herself,” Nox continued. “But I’m pleased she also has you to rely on.”
Nox took Nova’s hands once more, squeezing them gently, then left Nova and Callan alone.
“I’m coming with you to Tundara,” Callan insisted as he looped an arm around her waist.
“Of course you are,” Nova sighed, well aware there was no sense in arguing with him. She laid her head flat against his chest. “But you’re not setting a foot near that lake.”
She smiled to herself as Callan rested his chin on top of her head.
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered.