Chapter 4
Four
Aventurine
The calm night sky doesn’t match the chaos that’s broken out below me.
I watch as a massive fleet of wyverns gets lost in a blur of wings, tails, and talons. Dust flies into my face, and I shield my eyes. The sounds of snarling beasts mix with the war cries of wild fae.
“Brielle?” Leda’s voice slices through the noise from beside me. “Do you recognize these Riders?”
I turn to them, watching as Leda clutches Brielle’s back from atop her wyvern.
Brielle shakes her head. Her mouth moves, but her answer is lost beneath the rumble of magic tearing up from the ground as shadows crash into large slabs of clay.
The strange woman disappeared into the fray almost as soon as it started. The world is moving in slow motion around us—as if we’re outsiders that have stumbled upon a battle we weren’t invited to.
If these aren’t Riders from the palace, then who are they?
Zephyr cuts to the left, nearly knocking into Brielle and Leda as a massive boulder hurtles past us.
“Look,” Calix shouts from somewhere behind me.
My gaze shoots to the ground, watching as a whirring circle of shadows spins around a figure. Daimon.
The Riders attacking him are fae of all kinds, spears of water attempting to break through Daimon’s shield from the Undines, spheres made of flames coming from the Aegis, and natural elements from the Woodland bombard him while Nocturna create shields of their own to protect the fleet from Daimon’s offense.
The muscles in my stomach tighten, and my eyes flicker to the skies above.
We could leave Daimon to a battle of his own while we get away safely.
If we go…what happens here? What happens to those who stepped in to save us?
Though I doubt it was truly to save us. Everyone has their own agenda, and we certainly don’t know theirs.
The safest thing to do is leave them to their own war.
But that decision is taken from me as a torrent of Daimon’s shadows barrels into the sky.
Even as he shields himself and attacks the Riders, he hasn’t forgotten about us.
A rope of darkness wraps around Zeph’s hind right leg, yanking both of us toward him. She fights against his magic as I shoot shadows at the makeshift shackle.
More tethers lash out, wrapping around Brielle’s wyvern beside me.
I grit my teeth, pushing all that I have left at Daimon’s shadows, but they don’t release us.
A screech from below sounds, and the wyvern carrying the strange woman races toward the tether that’s slowly pulling Zeph and me down.
There’s a glint of white against the brightness of the moon—flashing like a light hitting a mirror—from atop the beast. In an instant, the rope of shadows is cut off. Zephyr jerks upward, momentum wrenching with the sudden release. From the corner of my eye, the others shoot upward too.
The battle continues beneath us. Daimon is solely focused on the wyverns hurling elements at him instead of us. But the strange woman meets my friends and me in the sky, her chest heaving.
Instead of speaking, she shouts a war cry, causing the Riders below to direct their attention at us. All at once, they throw layers upon layers of dirt, rocks, water, and shadows at Daimon. It creates a thick barrier around him, encasing him in a cage of magic.
The trees begin to sway, and the ground shakes with each blow Daimon makes against the cocoon. Even unable to see him, I can feel the strength of his magic. Cracks are already forming in the mixture of elements. I know it won’t hold long.
“Follow us if you want to live,” the woman yells as the Riders below take off into the sky around us.
I look to Brielle and Leda, seeing hesitation in both of their faces.
That fae was able to break Daimon’s shadows somehow. Something I didn’t know was possible. We have to find out how she did that—and where they all came from.
I nod to Leda, and she returns the gesture, our sentiments aligned.
An explosion rocks beneath us as Daimon breaks through the barrier he was trapped in. Rocks, tree branches, and his deadly shadows shoot out in all directions.
Zephyr climbs higher, following the woman’s wyvern before I can think better of it.
Wind whips my hair across my face as Zephyr climbs higher and higher above the clouds. Icy rain pelts my skin, and my teeth begin to chatter.
I twist around, hardly able to see my friends through the shroud of weather. Streaks of white fog mix with the rain, and I face forward as we follow the fae and her fleet into the unknown.
“What are we doing?” I mumble to Zephyr. These Riders might not be on our side, or perhaps their aid comes with a price. Just because they attacked Daimon, it doesn’t mean we can trust them. “We’re no better off with an enemy we don’t know.”
But this enemy may know a way to fight Daimon. And if he isn’t going to help us, we may need that knowledge.
The beast in front of us flies ahead but turns its massive head to look past its shoulder.
A soothing burst of trust shoots down the bond from Zeph, the feeling like a cool breeze on a warm sunny day. It’s as if she wants me to trust this other creature and its Rider.
If there was anyone in this realm I would trust with my life, it’s Zeph. Her instincts aren’t clouded by jealousy, emotion, or greed. She chose me, and I chose her in return. But—we don’t know them or their motives for helping us.
We at least know they aren’t with Daimon, but we would be far outnumbered if they decided we were their next target. Still…it’s our only option right now if we want a chance at releasing the souls trapped in the Vale.
“Of course I trust you, but—”
The soft blue wyvern in front of us banks left suddenly, and my body jolts to the right as Zeph follows their lead. With the sun nearly set, it’s getting harder to see, but there’s enough light left for me to spot the Rider twisting around.
A feral smile stretches across her face. She mouths, Hold on.
Without any further warning, her wyvern drops from the sky, as if gravity had suddenly plucked it right out of the air. My muscles clench and my stomach drops as Zephyr does the same, her wings tucking tightly into her sides as we fall, too.
Even if I wanted to turn back around, there’s no stopping Zephyr now.
Wind blasts against my face, causing my eyes to water. I try to keep them open, to see where we’re being led, but the force is too much. I cover my face with one arm, shielding myself from the icy onslaught.
Flashes of sharp mountainside and endless peaks meet my gaze each time I lower my elbow.
Gone are the crooked trees of the Cimmerian Forest, and in their place are rocky summits.
Zephyr levels out enough for me to focus on where we are, her massive body squeezing through stone arches and sweeping alongside steep ridges.
We’re in the Zenovia Mountains, much further into the range than I thought the curse would allow. Just as I begin to wonder how literal this split of the empire is, darkness stretches out before us.
Zeph follows the pale blue wyvern without hesitation.
The closer we get to it, the more my heart races.
This is it—we shouldn’t have gone with them. They must be leading us straight to where this realm ends, to where our souls will be ripped from our bodies and we’ll be stuck in the Shadow Lands.
Zephyr’s wings beat harder, followed by a burst of excitement rippling down our bond.
“I hope to the goddess you know what you’re doing.” My teeth chatter as the mountains around us disappear.
My eyelids flutter heavily as the wind cools my warm skin. There’s a call inside of me, beckoning me to sink back into the safe numbness and retreat into myself. I blink harshly, forcing my lids open.
Is this how it ends? Riding on the wings of my wyvern—not felled by a lunatic dark goddess or the end of a sword, but soaring through the night air into blissful nothingness—leaving behind those who fought so hard to get here.
For a moment, my life was destined for bigger things—maybe even for greatness. But perhaps I was wrong. Maybe the Goddess of the Moon wants nothing to do with me now that I didn’t finish my trial. Maybe this was always how my life would end.
I wait for some brilliant flash of light, for the bite of death sinking its teeth into my soul, but it doesn’t come. It isn’t an unending void beneath us. Salty water sprays my face, splashing onto my cheeks and into my mouth. It isn’t death that awaits us, but the sea.
The moon shines onto the water, casting an elongated glow across the surface.
My panic subsides with the shock that rolls through me.
Death didn’t come for me after all. Relief washes over me, followed by a welling of determination. Those lost in the trial need us. Graylen needs us.
If Daimon isn’t going to help us, then I’ll find another way.
I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of Calix and Maddox, but the others are lost among the sea of wyverns behind us.
Zephyr glides up beside the other wyvern, flying wing-to-wing. The other Rider stares straight ahead, her posture poised but comfortable—as if she has done this a thousand times.
The sea stretches out as far as I can see in all directions. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I find that the land behind us is fading. All that’s left are the tall peaks of Zenovia. From here, I can see we weren’t even close to the middle of the mountains, let alone the end of them.
Wherever the curse takes place, we must not have been near it.
The blight that separates Crea and Penyth isn’t one I’ve gotten this close to, let alone the mountain ranges that it cuts through.
I’ve only ever seen glimpses of the mountaintops, with no concept of just how deep they run.
Never did I think they were this wide—this vast.
We may have gotten away from Daimon and Vidaris this time, but there would be no escaping the darkness that Moros laid to keep the kingdoms apart.
Darkness clings to Zenovia like a blanket, but it’s different from the darkness of night. It’s inky and thick, pulsing as if sentient. I shiver and twist back around, my eyes widening as an island comes into view.
The Rider shouts, a strange mix of a scream and a howl. Her wyvern mimics her, its cry sharp and piercing, rattling my bones.
There are too many trees to see much of the island, every inch of the cliffside filled with thick foliage, vines, and branches. Seawater crashes against rocks the size of Zeph along the shoreline, where remnants of a beached ship lie scattered across the sand.
We fly over the massive trees with trunks wider than a small cottage, the island untamed and seemingly uninhabited. But then movement catches my eye—small shapes, just quick blurs. Not uninhabited after all.
The trees sway toward us, their limbs reaching up as if to catch any exposed skin or hanging limbs they can get themselves wrapped around. Zeph flies a little higher and blows out a sharp breath from her nostrils as if sensing it, too.
Something lives here, and whatever it is, it knows we’re here.
The Rider releases another howl, her wyvern once again mimicking her with its wings slowing. Zephyr does the same, an eager energy buzzing from her in waves. We hover in the air, the silence—save for the deep whoosh of wings gliding—startling. Sudden.
My eyes search the trees beneath us, the tops of some so close I could reach out and pluck a leaf off. Movement catches my gaze again, the leaves rustling and swaying—not from the force of the wyverns, I realize, but opening.
Of their own accord, the trees part, giving way to a forest floor shrouded by night. It’s just enough for both of us to fit through one after the other, the trunks so tall that Zeph and the other wyvern still have to flap their wings a few times before we reach solid ground.
The dim light provided by the moon disappears as the trees close above us, bending back to their natural state and cutting off the sky from our view. I blink, my thoughts racing in wonder at how the trees could move like that.
That’s when I realize my friends are nowhere to be seen. I’m alone with this foreign Rider and her wyvern. I swallow, panic creeping back and awakening my body as if I were struck by lightning.
“Kauri,” the Rider says suddenly, her voice causing me to jolt. “The trees.”
Her arms spread out wide as if this explains something, but I have no clue what she means.
With the ground still beneath me and my heart rate increasing, reality sinks its claws into me.
“My friends.” My voice is steadier than I thought it would be. Strong. “Whoever you are—”
“Willow,” she cuts in. “My name is Willow. And this, here, is Khaline.”