Chapter 34
Sweet berries, freshly lain soil, and crisp rain flooded my senses.
All around me, plants sprouted from the ground in brilliant shades of green, broken only by even more magnificent flowers in a spectrum of vivid colors.
This world was so different from my own blanketed in ice.
So pure and full of life. If I asked the beauty before me tending to her garden, she might disagree.
We often covet what we do not have, she’d say.
Amorphael was equal parts wise and beautiful.
It was one of the reasons I loved her, even knowing I should not—could not—love a Lady of the Seelie court—not as I was.
A lowly Unseelie, title-less, with no accomplishments to his name.
She deserved much more than I did—us, opposites.
But oh, how we covet what we do not have.
A tilt of her head brought her smile to my eyes, stopping the heart beating in my chest as it always did.
Rays of sun danced along her dark skin, tinting it with a warm, honey glow.
And when her eyes met mine, those impossibly green eyes flecked with spots of molten gold, I knew I would do anything—sacrifice everything—to be worthy of her light.
“Have you come here to escape your brother’s ire again, Zaelos?” Amorphael chuckled, still focused on pruning the leaves of the shrub in front of her. “You are always welcome, of course, though I recommend you remain in his good graces. He is hardheaded, but he has your best interest at heart.”
Hearing her speak of Jyuri made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the praises leaving her lips. “He is the Queen’s dog. For him to hold my best interests, he would need to have a heart. His has long since frozen over.”
Amorphael frowned. “You speak of his inability to promote you to the Queen’s court.”
Ever wise, she was, but I was wiser. I heard the words unspoken—read between the lines she’d crafted to spare my feelings.
I was weak. I had not earned my place on the court, nor the lands or title that accompanied the honor.
My magic was but a bud compared to the bloom that was Jyuri’s.
He would not even approach the idea of offering my name.
It’d be an insult to the Winter Queen, he’d said.
“Inability implies an attempt was made.”
Amorphael’s frown deepened, and I turned away.
I did not intend to upset her, but the longer I spent in Jyuri’s shadow, the more my disdain for him grew in turn.
He was enough for her. Their Queens would bless a union between the two of them.
Further proof of the hard-fought and growing—albeit fragile—peace between the Seelie and Unseelie courts.
A Lord of the Unseelie and a Lady of the Seelie.
Did she know how much it wounded me to feel so inferior?
I looked at her again, letting go of the anger and self-loathing that our conversation had sparked. I could not remedy it yet. “We need not discuss it now. I only wish to be in your presence for a while.”
Finally, her smile returned as she plucked a flower from the ground and moved to sit beside me.
She twirled the stem between her fingers, the blue petals catching the light in a way that made them glitter.
Lifting my hand from my lap, she curled my fingers around the stem, hers over the top, featherlight. “You are always welcome here, Zaelos.”
“May I keep this?”
“Infuse it with a piece of yourself, and it will bloom eternal.”
“My magic is not powerful like yours.”
She pulled her hand away and pressed mine, still clutching the flower to my chest. “Life gives life. It is not magic, it is an offering—a fragment of your soul.” She stood at once. “Return it to me when you are ready. I will wait for you until then.”
When I was ready. No, when I was worthy.
Amorphael had given me something precious, and I would place a shard of myself within it that very night, but I would not return it to her until I had become the most powerful Fae in the realm.
Except—she’d betrayed me, hadn’t she? I’d returned to her with power unimaginable, and she’d named me a traitor.
She’d helped the Queen’s dogs exile me. She’d helped them force me to the mortal realm with nothing but a failing body and a ravaged heart.
In their eyes, I was not worthy of a quick, honorable death.
Better to let me perish amongst worthless Humans.
AMORPHAEL BETRAYED ME.
YOU BETRAYED ME.
“How could you? I loved you!” I screamed, my hands clawing at her neck in the darkness. Magic—the magic I’d sacrificed everything for—seeped from my fingertips, staining skin with cursed black marks.
Fingers tore at mine, desperate to regain the air I was depriving her lungs. She was strong, but I was stronger. I only dug deeper the more she struggled.
Until... she relaxed.
The hands which had tried to tear mine away settled against the sides of my face, warm and gentle. “I will not harm you. It’s okay. You’re okay.” The voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
And it wasn’t her voice at all, nor was it my rage coursing through my blood.
I released my grip instantly, hands shaking with the weight of what I’d done. “Alandris—I—I’m so sorry.”
He rubbed at his neck, sitting up at the waist, me still perched in his lap from where I'd crawled over-top of him in the midst of my madness. “You didn’t go on long enough to cause damage.” He pulled my trembling hands into his. “You’re safe. I’m safe. I promise.”
We stayed in silence for several long minutes, Alandris rubbing circles along my back as I forced my breathing to steady.
He did not ask me what had happened. He simply waited.
His patience was the only thing that stopped me from breaking completely, because what had happened was that I’d lost control—worse than ever before.
I’d believed I was Zaelos. I’d witnessed one of his memories, and I’d felt his emotions as raw and real as if they were my own. For those few moments, our souls joined as one, and I wanted nothing more than revenge upon those who scorned me. His hatred was infinite, and so mine was, too.
I didn’t dare reach for him now. Didn’t dare check if he lingered just below the surface, or if he was sleeping soundly somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind. If he knew how close he’d come to freedom, he would never relent. I was on borrowed time.
“I had a dream,” I finally spoke. “It was a memory of Zaelos’s—one of Amorphael. We need to leave at daybreak. We cannot delay any longer.”
Alandris pressed his lips together and gave a tight nod. I was certain he was worried about whether I was yet strong enough to take on Zaelos. “What did you see?”
“The flower—the one Amorphael used to create the tincture I’ve been using to keep Zaelos at bay—it contained a fragment of his soul.”
Alandris cursed under his breath. “Why would she do such a thing? Even if it quieted him for a short while, it no doubt grew his strength.” He bit the tip of his thumb. “She wouldn’t be so foolish to believe the benefits outweighed the risks. There must be more to it.”
“I can’t claim to understand her strategy, but I do know we need to move. I’ve never been more in sync with Zaelos than I was just now. If it happens again...”
“It won’t. I will begin preparations.” Alandris pulled me tight against his chest. “I wish we had more time to train. I will always wish we had more time, but you are strong enough to beat him, Nairu.”
Any answer I could give would not be fully honest, so I remained silent in his embrace. I was as confident as I felt powerless. As assured as I was hopeless. There was no way of knowing what the Soulseer would show me. All I could have was hope.
I walked the gangway onto the Phoenix Heart towards what felt like my most perilous journey yet.
It was a perfect day for sailing—comically so, given the glum circumstances of our destination.
The sun beamed across an azure sky, filled with just enough cloud cover to keep the air cool and comfortable on the seas.
The waves were calm, lapping against the sandy shore in a gentle kiss. A sailor’s dream.
Kaz, Kaelias, and Zorinna had met us at the dock, though I’d refused an official send-off. I wouldn’t bother saying farewells, because I had every intention of making it back alive.
Our small, makeshift crew worked hard to set sail.
What Alandris and Jyuri lacked in nautical knowledge, they made up for tenfold in—well—magical prowess.
I could see Lorian watching them with a sparkle in his eye, no doubt cataloging their strengths and weaknesses as pirates.
Even now, he effortlessly shifted into the role of Captain.
“What would it take to get you to join the crew after all this?” Lorian called to Jyuri, who was tying off an impressive bowline knot.
Jyuri scowled. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
Lorian chuckled under his breath and turned to Alandris, his next victim. “And you?”
“I suppose it depends,” Alandris answered, meeting my gaze. “I’ve committed to following a certain someone. She’s not yet made it clear if she seeks a life of adventure. or one of quiet.”
Now it was my turn to face Lorian.
“Nairu.”
“Captain.”
“Did you enjoy life on the seas?”
I smiled fondly, recalling every wild, dangerous stunt we pulled over the years. “I did.”
He drummed his fingers along his chin. “I’ll let you ponder over my offer for a while.”
And so I would. I appreciated the distraction for what it was worth. Focusing on what I intended to do with my future was better than worrying about whether I would survive the next few days. Maybe that had been Lorian’s intention after all. He was always good about that.
Night came quickly, and we took turns keeping watch while others slept. Makatza and I were the first to watch over the quiet waters, me keeping a sharp eye while she kept the helm steady on our course.
“Thank you for coming, Mak,” I spoke in a whisper so as not to wake anyone.
“You don’t owe me thanks, tzuk vartu.” She leaned in, smelling of saltwater and spice, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “One of my crew, one of my blood.”
Makatza—a woman of few words—surprised me when she spoke again, her eyes fixed ahead. “You have never judged me.” She ran a thumb along the point of her tiny tusks. “You are a rare kind.”
I knew Mak had experienced harsh treatment for her half-Orc heritage.
Whenever we’d dock at port and spend a few nights in an inn, both of us would get our fair share of nasty stares and whispers, but she’d had it even worse than I.
I’d get the usual Faeling freak comments, but people would cower from her in fear—pull their children behind them, draw their daggers from their belts.
Fear was worse than disdain. I knew that well, too.
“It’s the bare minimum, isn’t it?” I loosed a bitter chuckle. “Not to judge someone for something so irrelevant to their character.”
“People assume the worst of the Orc clans of the Azog Bog. They say we are a violent people. But never you. So, I needed to say it. Thank you, too. For everything.”
In case we don’t make it, was left unsaid between us.
I gave her hand a squeeze just as the acrid scent of sulfur filled my nose. Down on the deck, runes were forming in the wood, slowly forming a circle. Five that I could see—probably more that I couldn’t.
“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”