Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
NERISSA
My heart is yours, Nissy. My breath is yours. My life is yours. I’ll drop to my knees if you wish. I’ll give you an air oath and a ring if you’ll let me.
Nerissa – Aedrialis, Sultira
The red glow of Mount Telum’s rubelline stones filtered through the oval windows lining the castle’s wide halls, making it difficult to discern the time of day. I strode quickly through the silent halls, Ronan’s eyes burning a hole through the back of head and his words still lingering.
I rounded the corner, and my shoulders sagged in relief as I put distance between myself and the high steward. A small whisper of regret scraped my chest, and I squashed it beneath my boot like a spider. I had no room for that type of weakness. Not any longer.
Where are you? I reached into that space connecting me to Aquila, forcing my anger to heel and preparing for our flight back to Lotrennia to inform Bayne of what I’d learned.
I’m roosting, the ancient bird’s voice rumbled in my mind.
My brows shot up. As in…nesting? My lips tugged up.
A scoff sounded in my mind. I’m very tired, young one. I am resting. I’m not far.
A pang of guilt stabbed into my gut. Of course, Ronan had been right.
Aquila needed rest. I blew out a sigh, resigned to the fact we would be staying at least one night.
I forced my shoulders to relax as I hit the stairs and hopped down them, intent on finding Evony and then a place for Kresida and me to sleep.
I rounded another corner, and a petite woman slammed into me with a yelp. I blinked as Vienah’s hand flew to her chest. Her brown eyes widened when they landed on me.
“I’m so sorry, Nerissa,” she stammered, blinking rapidly. I opened my mouth and then paused, choosing my next words carefully.
“For what?” I asked, tilting my head and examining her. Stray strands of strawberry blonde hair framed her face. “For betraying us?”
A flush inched up her ivory neck, her freckles darkening as it reached her cheeks.
“Yes,” she breathed.
My nostrils flared as I stared at her. Odessa had been horrific. The water witch had been a spy for King Saros, using her ability to manipulate the weather to send signals regarding our whereabouts to the late king and his soldiers through lightning in the sky.
It was how Sultiran soldiers ambushed the Rising camp in Odessa, how they found us again at Demon’s Door.
And then, when we’d bypassed Saros’s forces in the Rellenor Fields on our way to Aedrialis last fall, we’d thought we finally had the upper hand.
Until Gork and his little army warned us they were coming.
All because Vienah had sent them signals.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Vienah muttered, her shoulders straightening. “Saros had my family. He had been sending me pieces of them.”
The beast inside me snarled, and my eyes darted between hers.
“You would have done anything to protect your family,” Vienah continued, her resolve hardening as she crossed her arms.
“You were alone and scared in Odessa,” I murmured, tilting my head as I examined her. “If I’d been as weak as you, then perhaps I would have knowingly sentenced hundreds of good men and women to their deaths.”
The flush in Vienah’s face drained.
“But after Odessa…” I continued, my voice lowering. “When Lyvia took you under her wing? After Lotrennia… After what we all faced together in the Death Dunes…”
I trailed off, my brows narrowing. My head shook softly. “I would have asked for help. I would have recognized what we had… What you had with Lyvia. She has always been too trusting. And I will not forgive you for that, even if she does some day,” I said, unwilling to keep the bite from my bark.
Vienah flinched as the words smacked her in the face.
“You will spend the rest of your life making up for the blood on your hands and atoning for the deaths you caused.”
Vienah’s light brows knit together, and her lips drew a thin line.
“That’s rich, coming from an ex-War Slayer,” she hissed as she scanned the length of me. “How many innocent lives have you taken?”
I straightened under her judgment. “Exactly,” I snapped.
“I have over two hundred years of living with my mistakes. Time does not make it easier. Each death is a link in a chain you will carry for the rest of your life. It is heavy. It leaves you bruised and chafed in the deepest parts of yourself. Good luck standing under the weight of yours.”
Vienah blinked, her arms falling to the side.
“Get out of my way,” I growled.
To her credit, Vienah held my gaze as she took one slow step to the side, and I continued down the stairs, leaving the traitor to her penance.
Mount Telum’s mess hall seemed brighter than it had under Saros’s reign.
Greenery draped the arched entryways, and the sun shone through the large windows at opposite ends.
Evony’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as Kresida and I joined her for dinner, though her shoulders visibly eased when she learned of Lyvia’s return.
“You’re sure you can’t stay for a few days?” she asked through a mouthful of potatoes. The clamor of off-duty soldiers rose around us, the scent of mutton and roasted vegetables clouding with the woody smoke of enderleaf.
I shook my head. “We need to let Bayne know there are multiple gates and about the rubelline protection here in Aedrialis. And figure out how best to communicate between the two kingdoms now that the orb doesn’t work here. Are you sure Gork and the other…creatures…didn’t say anything about a bone?”
Evony shook her head in exasperation. Her long braids swayed as she took a swig of water.
“It would probably look similar to the one Drystan had,” Kresida pressed. “Round or oval… They were all about the size you could fit in your palm.”
“No,” Evony stressed. “They didn’t have anything like that. And yes, we tried searching for them in the mountains. And no, I have no idea where they went.”
Kresida’s dark brows narrowed, and I shook my head.
“Olienna was certain they had it,” I murmured, focusing on the carrots on my plate. “The Stone Witch had it during the Battle of Odessa. That’s how she manipulated the twin eclipse, the Sending, that arrived earlier than it should have.”
“I know,” Evony agreed, setting down her fork. “And it makes sense she would have left it with them when Saros captured her if she didn’t want it getting into his hands.”
I nodded. Where had it gone?
I glanced up, and Evony’s eyes had gone glassy as she stared off across the room.
“Are you being treated well, Evony?” I asked, my brows narrowing as I examined her.
She jerked her gaze back and nodded. “Yeah,” she muttered. “I was just thinking, I kind of miss him.”
“Gork?” I asked.
She nodded, her lips turning down, and I resisted the soft feelings that threatened to rise. She probably missed everyone. Her parents were dead, her brother had left, and the rest of us were off preparing for a war.
“No word from Ezrich yet on the edge of the rubelline zone?” Kresida asked.
Evony shook her head.
“You could come with us,” I said as I wiped the grease from my hands. “To Lotrennia.”
Evony’s head jerked up, and she opened her lips to respond, but paused.
“I’m sure the old man can carry one more,” I said, offering the slightest tilt of my lips.
The old man can hear you, Aquila piped in.
A wave of amusement rushed down my bond with Aquila, and I stifled the chuckle that followed.
And, of course, I can carry her.
Evony stared around the large mess hall.
Men and women of various ages filtered through the doors, refueling from a day of training.
I followed her gaze, noting the lingering glances from several younger women.
Kresida and I were used to the Sultirans staring at us, but I realized now, they watched Evony.
The young archer’s brown eyebrows narrowed. Her shoulders sagged, as if the weight of her adult responsibilities pressed down from above. I stabbed a carrot with my fork and shoved it in my mouth, allowing her time to think.
She shook her head. “If Ganmira, Renova, and Sintarrak are here,” she muttered, “I should probably stay. Help us prepare to fight.” Her voice was heavy.
I swallowed and gave her a soft nod. “You’re doing good work here,” I said. “Sorry you have to split your time between training the archers and taking notes for the high steward.”
Evony chuckled and rolled her eyes. “It’s more than taking notes,” she explained. “Ronan’s teaching me about battle strategy. I’m learning. But it’s boring sometimes.”
Kresida snorted, and though she didn’t smile, the huff of emotion was a welcome sight. She was still in there. My lip twitched.
“Don’t tell him that,” I murmured. “You’ll probably hurt his feelings.”
Evony giggled, and something inside me eased at the lightheartedness that returned to her face. I tossed my rag on the plate and stepped over the bench.
“Keep an eye on him, will you?” I said to Evony as Kresida joined me, ready to leave.
The young archer nodded. “Good luck in Lotrennia,” she muttered. “Come back soon.”
Sweat pooled beneath my flying jacket as I strode into the small courtyard where Aquila and Kresida waited. The dark-skinned War Slayer fidgeted with her leather gauntlets, her brows narrowed as she tugged on the straps.
I’m feeling more and more like a carrier pigeon, Aquila muttered, ruffling his large feathers in the summer sunlight.
I’m feeling pretty useless myself.
Aquila stretched his large wings before lowering his beak to the ground and allowing Kresida to climb up his back. I did a quick survey of my belongings and weapons as I closed the gap between us when a shout drew my attention.
The voice clenched at something in my chest, and I paused, slowly turning to find Ronan jogging over.
He ran a hand through his loose curls, cutting his gaze to Aquila and Kresida before landing on me. His throat bobbed, and as he opened his mouth to speak, a protective force surged forward, pushing words to my lips.
“It’s better this way, Ronan,” I explained before he could say what I wasn’t ready to hear. “You have Owyn. The prince needs you. Sultira needs you. And I’m needed elsewhere.”
Something broke behind his gaze, and I steeled myself, forcing a calm confidence into my voice.
“War is coming,” I continued, siphoning all emotion from my face. Ronan’s confession back in Lotrennia, his explanation for his actions over the years, for his dishonesty, had opened a slim crack in the wall that had formed between us.
And every look he’d given me since, every word we’d exchanged, every brush of his skin against mine, had slowly stretched that crack.
But war was coming. There would always be something more important than the love we let slip through our fingers.
I braced myself before I shoved it closed once again. “It was never meant to be.”