Chapter 7
—Broan—
Needing nothing else, Broan took only the clothes on his back and a knife for the journey to the Whiteridge Mountains.
Kaelthar indicated they shouldn’t run into any trouble, aside from the bitter cold and maybe a moose or two if they weren’t careful.
For the cold, they could stop for furs in an unmarked village nestled near the Goldmere River.
At the edge of the hidden city, Broan stared at the forest floor around him.
The wind was still, leaving only the damp scent of wet leaves and earth.
The towering trees reminded him he was a visitor there, and he could have sworn their presence pushed him to step out of the forest.
He intended to find Danek. Not to tell him goodbye. That was for pussies. But he wanted to remind him to find a woman to warm his bed while Broan was gone instead of spending all his time brooding.
The High Commander cleared his throat, and Broan turned to meet the soldier’s stare, mirroring his set jaw and refusing to fall into commanding positions. Tristian hated it. Broan could tell by the way his shoulders stiffened. It was enough to curl Broan’s lips.
“Are you prepared to speak with your father?” Tristian asked.
Broan shrugged. “I’m prepared to wing it.”
Tristian’s face didn’t indicate any amusement. Danek would have laughed. Or maybe he wouldn’t have. It didn’t matter to Broan. He meant what he said. He was going to wing it.
The High Commander pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. “This alliance is important, Broan.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll get your queen the fierce Viking Clan.”
“No.” Tristian shook his head.
Broan stepped back. The charge was clear from the queen: Build an alliance with the Vikings. The High Commander had been on board with that in the fucking tree. Damn Elvish and their illusiveness. “What do you mean, no?”
Tristian peered over his shoulder before stepping closer to Broan.
“I’m only going to say this once, so make sure you hear it clearly.
This alliance is not for us. It’s for them.
They will need my sword when the time comes, and I’m prepared to offer it to them.
The queen needs the illusion that the sword is for our protection, but I don’t. You make sure the jarl knows this.”
“Okay…”
The High Commander dropped a pouch of coins in Broan’s hand, then turned and walked back through the forest as Kaelthar approached with another Elvish soldier.
Broan watched Tristian go, mulling over his words.
Sword for the Vikings. Not for the Elvish.
Surely, he wouldn’t get that jumbled in his head.
Kaelthar slapped Broan on the back and nodded his head to move. Broan took one more glance through the forest of Trinity. He wouldn’t miss it, he didn’t think. The Elvish were rigid with too many rules. He didn’t dare look up where he knew Danek watched from the trees. It was easier this way.
Broan turned with Kaelthar and the soldier, then journeyed away.
—Danek—
Danek watched from a branch of the highest tree in the city.
His eyes followed Broan and Kaelthar as they trailed an Elvish soldier out of Trinity.
He was the final remaining Guardian. It was a lonely path.
Broan was always by Danek’s side, and now Broan was off to meet a new family, his real family, and Danek had no one left.
He scoured the forest all night, testing his limit and running from the guiding whispers to no avail.
Was he going mad, finally buckling under the pressure?
As Broan’s figure disappeared between the veil of the forest and the hidden city, Danek jumped and grabbed another branch, flinging his body over and up again.
He climbed until he reached the top of the tree and looked out.
The clouds surrounded him. Below, the elemental islands of soldiers fought, steel and magic flaring, but nothing more.
He looked to see if being so high would reveal the world beyond Trinity, perhaps to see if he could catch Broan in the distance. Maybe if he looked in the other direction, he could see Dove Port. He missed Kienna and Moira. He missed Broan. Damn, he felt so abandoned that he even missed Baila.
The city remained hidden. He leaned forward, searching the air for a sign, then straightened when it became clear nothing would reveal itself. A waste of a climb, he thought. He turned, abandoning hope to find ground once more.
Danek halted, his heart nearly thrashing.
A bridge stood where there had been nothing before, unfurling into place as if it had been waiting for the moment he stopped looking.
Danek stumbled back, nearly losing his footing as the narrow wooden planks finished snapping in place between the live, curling vines.
Blue flowers threaded the railings, their petals glowing softly as fireflies drifted close enough to brush the path with light.
He stepped onto the bridge, fearing he’d fall right through. Yet each footfall steadied it, and the structure firmed beneath his weight, testing him in return. The air thinned as he crossed, weaving higher until an island solidified in front of him. The land shuddered as the bridge met it.
Danek had never been this far into the sky. He could see it—everything. The world, wide and bright before him, whole and impossibly vast.
He saw what lay beyond the hidden city, and then what lay beyond River Storm.
Alistile opened itself like a book begging to be read.
The pain of weakness and solitude dissipated.
Danek did the only thing he could. He sat and studied the world, memorizing everything he knew about it.
From what he noticed, wards existed beyond the forest and well into the southern mountains.
They shimmered with iridescent light. As River Storm had been, nothing was clear from beyond that ward.
What else did they need wards for? The biggest threat Danek knew of was the North.
He shifted in that direction to study River Storm.
The wards protected the city as they always had, but the orb flickered in and out for a time. Was the king opening the barrier?
He shuddered at the thought and moved to alert someone with that information when darkness caught his attention and pinned him back in place. To the West, shadows flickered from a bleak land lit only by magma. Evil. It smoldered, emanating ominous whispers that floated to him and clung to his skin.
A dark speck clutched Danek’s arm, cold and insistent, as though it had always known where to find him.
It caressed him at first, a suggestion drawing his attention toward the deeper shadows twisting at the edge of the island.
It would be easy to follow them. The darkness didn’t rush him.
It waited, gently offering promises. Strength without restraints.
Power that would not require permission or balance.
The speck bled outward, stretching and reshaping itself, no longer content to remain small. Shadows folded into one another, thickening and sharpening until they took form.
Danek nearly fell on his back at the sight. It threatened the very land he rested on, and his heart told him this would not end well if he allowed it to continue festering. He jumped to his feet, pulling a sword from his back scabbard.
“You should not fight me,” the darkness whispered. “I am power.”
“I don’t know,” Danek said. “I think you’re just darkness.”
The void laughed in his face. “And you are weak.”
The words slammed into Danek, and he believed them with the same certainty that he knew he stood on the island.
They didn’t overcome the need to protect the sanctity of where he was, though.
At the thought, the shadow summoned a dark blade, seething and hissing as it appeared.
It shoved forward, slamming the blade toward his chest. Danek deflected, pushing the darkness back.
At least he could do that. At first, he feared it would be like fighting smoke, its form dissipating and going straight through him.
The comfort struck bravery into his heart, and Danek realized that he could be weak and brave at the same time.
“This island is not for you,” Danek said as he lurched toward the shadow, hoping to snag its hand and force the weapon from it.
How did one kill darkness? There was light, of course, but the sun shone as brightly as it could. What else could swallow it?
Before Danek could work out an answer, the darkness scratched him, tearing his shirt and peeling his skin.
Blood dripped down his arm. Danek sucked in a breath, ignoring the pain that he’d never experienced before.
Darkness merged with his blood, whispering deep into his mind.
He flicked his head, shaking the thoughts away.
They refused to go. “Weak,” they said. “Inadequate. You’ll never be anything to this realm but a lost puppy. ”
Danek’s mind shattered. He didn’t want to be any of that anymore. He wanted to be worthy. He wanted to be strong.
The void sliced its blade through his arm again, then slammed its shadows into his nose, hitting him like a solid force. Not smoke. Blood trickled over his lips before the shadow wacked him in the head, and his ears rang as he hit the ground.
You can be strong, something else whispered. This voice was not darkness. It was a bright light. Strength. An echo of his voice and someone other.
“I don’t know how.” Danek swatted at the darkness that gripped his bleeding arm, suffocating him and telling him he couldn’t last in this realm without Broan. It told him Kienna and Moira had abandoned him. It told him he was nothing but a pretty face. Always weak.
It slammed into him again, cutting the skin above his brow. Pain radiated through his entire body. Danek’s fingers clutched the grass as he held himself together.
I can make it go away, said the darkness.
Defeat the darkness within you, said the lighter voice.