Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
LYVIA
See what you make of the creatures. Daimos was on to something.
–Undisclosed correspondence from Lotrennia to Lord Haro of Marisarma, Captain of the Siren.
Lyvia – Onyx Tower, Kayj
“Sobraen?” Ursa’s soft voice echoed from the end of the hall.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Relief swept through me, grateful for the interruption to my spying. I whipped my head around to find the pale-skinned elf holding the door open for her wife.
Selvina’s straight hair lay in long folds down the back of her rose-pink gown, a complement to the mauve beaded designs sewn into Ursa’s tunic that draped over her dark leggings. My hand fell, and I nodded to the two of them as they approached.
“Cousin,” I murmured, before clearing my throat and meeting Ursa’s gaze. Her sister’s face flashed in my mind’s eye, and a deep sense of grief washed over me as I remembered Eira’s final words before she’d sacrificed herself with the dagger I still had strapped to my ankle.
Ursa ran a hand through her cropped golden hair as if she sensed the painful memory. Her thick brows pinched.
“We came to discuss your departure,” Selvina explained, eyeing the doors.
“When you say my departure, I take it you’ve decided not to come?” I asked, still uneasy with the presence of Selvina.
She was a Bellator, that much was clear. The Ramadiel power seemed as if it were made for her, and she used her healing powers without hesitation.
A strand of blonde-white hair fell over her shoulder as she shook her head.
“I must stay to protect my people,” she answered. “At least until Ursa has our armies under control and the bears ready.”
My stomach pitched at the mention of the Nivisian bear cavalry, and memories surged forward. The attack of the Rhashtai and the death of Xenelpha and her dune runner…
“And then I’ll join you and the others,” Selvina continued. “But let us speak with the rest of the group.”
I eyed the door, realizing my conversation with Bayne would have to wait. My head snapped to the back of the hall as footsteps sounded beyond the closed door, and Aeriden’s head popped out.
A surge of warmth spread at finding my brother still in Kayj, still waiting for me and looking at me without the shock and disgust I’d found in his eyes in Mount Telum. No, in fact, he’d been more curious since my return.
His short black hair bounced as he caught up to us, a stack of scrolls tucked beneath his arm. He grinned as he reached me, his eyes sliding along my arms.
“Your shadows are looking pretty wild, Lyvi,” he said with raised brows.
I followed his gaze. The black ribbons beneath my skin indeed seemed thicker and darker, making the golden magic dancing alongside them brighter.
“I like them,” Selvina added, her lips twitching as she shrugged. “You look very intimidating. And I heard about the black wings. I think you should bring them back.”
I raised my brows and forced a chuckle. The phantom burn of Tiberius’s wings raced down my back.
“Any change in the orb?” Ursa turned toward Aeriden.
My brother shook his head, with his ebony brows drawn together. “Still nothing from Sultira. No word of Vander or the refugees making it safely to shore.”
My stomach sank. Had something happened to them? Ronan, Evony, Drystan, Marian, and Father Marcus were all there. We’d been able to communicate with Ronan before the Vael Lacrima had been opened just fine. Why wouldn’t he answer now?
“We still have much to discuss,” Selvina murmured. “And I need to speak with Bayne about coming to the continent once more to help feed the refugees. We’re running out of food at the Crystal Castle.”
My stomach twisted, but I followed the three of them through the ebony doors to the throne room for another hour of planning.
Dark clouds hung in the west, a backdrop to the shining white castle that stood before the vast Albyn Mountains.
Unsure if it was due to the anticipation of my discussion with Bayne, or simply returning to the land north of Kayj, my nausea grew.
Tiberius had flown me to the Crystal Castle in the hours following our planning.
Brilliant white light sparkled off the tips of Bayne’s fingers as he reached them toward the root gardens bordering the Crystal Castle. Tiberius huffed as he landed in the courtyard just beyond the space.
A gust of air pushed the heavy clouds closer, and I shivered against the frigidness of early Nivisian spring, rubbing my hands over my thick, fur-lined jacket and immediately missing the warmth of Ti’s coat as I slid from his back.
A tangle of dead branches spread over the frozen ground as Bayne’s magic surged into the roots, thick green leaves sprouting and dirt shifting as the plants grew at an unnatural rate.
Bayne closed his palms, cutting off his life-bringing magic, and workers scurried forward to pluck the thick root vegetables from the ground.
Bayne’s broad shoulders sagged as he heaved a breath, turning to the last, massive garden. He paused as my boot crunched in the wet snow, and his head cocked to the side. He turned fully, his brows narrowing as his eyes landed on me.
“Lyvia,” he murmured, his head bobbing in a curt nod as I approached.
“I’ve been meaning to find you.” I forced my fists to unclench. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long.”
His chin jerked in agreement, and he motioned me toward a path leading to a small orchard of fruit trees struggling to stay alive against the wind whipping off the mountains.
A snaking line of dark green vines wound around the thin trunks of the trees and across the layer of snow on the ground, their violet buds sprouting through the crystallized snow. Bayne followed my gaze, and his nose crinkled.
With the twitch of his hand, a spiral of Soleia speared toward the nyxteria buds. His white flames licked along the line of vines. I flinched as his power burned them to a crisp, little trails of smoke floating into the chill air. He turned back to me, his lips a hard line.
“A fully bloomed nyxteria is deadly,” he reminded me with a raised brow. “I know Selvina uses the buds to create the sleeping draft, but this batch would have bloomed tonight, its poison choking the trees that could bring life, not death.”
My stomach tightened. The undertone of his words was not missed by me.
Several moments passed until the crackle of the burning vines fizzled into a hiss.
He pushed a wave of his wind through the air, clearing it of the remaining ash and smoke so that nothing of the nyxteria vine native to the land remained, as if it had never grown there.
“Xenelpha said death is but a passage,” I finally replied, the matron’s words from Maadon echoing in my ears, as if they’d floated in on the breeze from the west.
Bayne huffed next to me.
“A passage blocked by Tynan, if what you saw is true,” he murmured, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His tone lacked the softness it usually held when delivering his doubt.
Something hot flared in my chest, fueling the words that followed.
“You never really believed in me, did you?” I asked, turning to face him fully. Though emotions flooded my system, my heart beat in a steady surety. I was done wilting beneath his flames—beneath his doubt.
He blinked, cocking his head to the side as his brows narrowed. “That’s not true,” he finally said, “but I question some of your recent choices.”
Choices.
The heat in my chest flared as the word left his mouth.
“You want to talk about choices?” I asked, my brows hiking to the sky.
White flames burned in Bayne’s eyes at the question, his defenses rising, yet they flared without heat as if fueled by an icy resentment.
Any warmth left between us seemed to vanish.
His shoulders sagged, and he blew out a tight breath, the inevitability of this conversation nearing us like the storm on the horizon.
“If you came here thinking you needed to end our relationship, don’t bother,” he said, waving his hand. “Things ended between us when you went after a Marisarma pirate and left your family and friends behind… Left us behind immediately after our realm was attacked.”
It hit like a slap in the face. The sting ripped along the skin of my heart. I had left them all behind.
But I didn’t regret going after Kellan… Not for a single second. Bayne opened his mouth to say more, but words spilled from my lips in a hot rush.
“Things ended between us long before that, Bayne. You want to talk about choices? If our relationship hadn’t ended when you married Queen Antares, it certainly ended when you bound your soul to hers.
When you stopped believing in me. When you stopped having faith in who I was, who I am meant to be.
What I could do, what I could fix with these powers,” I replied, holding my hands out between us.
“I’ve made my choices, and I wouldn’t take them back even if I could.
Don’t talk to me about my choices when you can barely face your own. ”
Silence cleaved the air between us as I let my arms fall to my sides.
This wasn’t how I had meant for this conversation to go.
I hadn’t meant for all of it to come out…
I had planned a mature, level-headed discussion about how we had grown apart and changed.
But the truth had been scraping to get out for months now, and it had just clawed its way free from my heart.
A muscle in Bayne’s jaw ticked as his eyes scanned mine, and I thought he might say more. He ran a hand over his face, finally pulling his gaze away as he gave a rough jerk of his head and turned away from me.
Shit.
“The Realm of Vael needs us,” I called to his back. “This world needs all of the Bellators to be on the same team. Things have changed, but I’m still on yours, Bayne. Be on mine. Fight for the realm.”
Bayne’s shoulders went rigid, and he turned slowly to face me.
“What do you think it is I’m doing?” he asked, his eyes wide. He made a long sweep of his arms, gesturing to the root gardens in need of more life.
I swallowed, nodding. He sighed, his shoulders sagging.
I tugged on the chain around my neck, pulling the oval, amber pendant out from under my jacket and over my head.
“Here,” I murmured, holding out the elaborately carved amplifier Bayne had made for me last year for the Awakening.
Vines of nyxteria blossoms covered the pendant, twining with ferns and rays of sunshine, the etched patterns becoming increasingly elaborate each time I used the amplifier. A phantom pain burned at the center of my chest where it usually hung, the scar of that burn, of Bayne’s lingering power.
His eyes traced the soft glow of the pendant.
The amber was bright against the white castle looming behind us, like a sad little sun in the clouds.
I held onto the chain as I let the pendant slip down, its clasp falling open and showcasing the small, fossilized creature inside.
His jaw unclenched as he blinked, and for a glimpsing moment, I thought I caught a glimmer of sincerity before his words wiped it away.
“I’ve no need of an amplifier. I’ve had decades of practice with my power,” he replied, a trace of condescension riding his tone. “Keep it. You may need it at the Arx.”
I placed the open pendant on my palm. Bayne turned back to the gardens, putting space between us as I gently folded my fingers over the amplifier. Its clasp snapped closed with a soft click, the sound permanent. Final.
I let the amplifier sink into my pocket with a soft thunk and heaved a sigh as I turned away from the king of Lotrennia.
The approaching clouds gave a soft, almost comforting rumble in the distance, and the breeze coming from the west blew a strand of hair from my face.
I felt lighter as I stepped away, the weight of our relationship, our history, now reduced to the light stone in my pocket.