Chapter 18
Eighteen
Alexandrite
The four words I didn’t want to hear settle throughout the room.
“Nightfall is in Crea.”
My muscles clench in my stomach.
We don’t have a way to get to Crea. The curse separates us from crossing into its lands, keeping us firmly in Penyth. If it’s there, how do we have any hope of getting it?
“Crea?” Leda questions. “So you’re saying we should count our losses with it helping us.”
Someone answers, voices rising over one another, but I can’t stop hearing the word Crea over and over, like a drum banging against my chest.
Crea.
The place that held the house that was never a home. I hated it while I was there—still do. From the miserable training camp and the men that filled it to the rain that turned everything to mud most seasons.
But it was also the place that brought me to Linnick and Opal—even Dog. Though the good memories are limited, they’re still there. Laughing with Linnick in the market as we played pretend, sitting with Opal and Dog by the stream along the back side of camp.
Though, like most things there, the good never lasts. Crea is the kind of realm that takes everything it gives. It’s only been a place filled with pain for me. Linnick died in the castle, right under my nose. Dog is goddess knows where, and Opal…
Opal was pushed into a marriage with the very man we’re trying to stop. She’s married to that monster. When I left her in Crea, she decided to stay, but we didn’t know who Duke Wyman truly was then.
There was always something off about him—the use of dark magic at Adrian’s coronation and the way he whispered into King Avalon’s ear constantly…but never did I imagine him to be truly, deeply evil.
Never did I think he could be the last human king, still alive and breathing and puppeteering Adrian to do what he wants. He has Crea right where he wants it, has shifted himself back into power just as he had in Penyth.
“We need the dagger,” Aster pushes. “How do we expect to win against Vidaris if we don’t have a way to kill her? Getting to Crea is the only way to get it.”
Voices rise again as Leda and Calix question them, demanding to know why they think the dagger is in Crea. Their answers jumble together with my thoughts, numbing my ears.
My knees weaken, and I slowly sink back to the cot.
Willow told us the truth, that they know where Nightfall is. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to believe them, but there’s something in Willow’s eyes—a pain that shows years of trying to retrieve it and failing.
I don’t know how they figured it out, but right now, I don’t care. What matters is how we get to it.
“We don’t need a plan,” Aster growls, snapping my focus back to the room. “If we figure out how to pass through the curse unharmed, then we retrieve the dagger.”
Leda snorts and throws her hands into the air. “That’s it, huh?”
As simple as Aster is making it sound, that isn’t all there is to it. Crea holds more than just Nightfall for me. It’s the place I grew up, the place I chose to leave the first opportunity I got.
I dread the thought of going back there. Of being surrounded by small-minded men who look at women as an accessory instead of a partner. Or running into those I met during the matching, the ones who looked at me as if they only valued me for my last name and who my father was.
Of being the weak girl who allowed herself to stay trapped.
And if we need to find a way back to Crea, where does that leave Adrian and the Lyles? While I don’t owe them anything, leaving them in Penyth is a sure way to get them all killed. Is that something I’m prepared to let happen?
My chest tightens as questions flood my mind, swirling around like a winter storm blanketing everything in its path.
Willow shifts between Leda and Aster, her mouth pinched.
“If war is coming, then we need Nightfall here, not in Crea.” Her gaze flicks between the two of them, her chest heaving with every word.
“We don’t have Daimon or Senna this time—don’t have the leaders we did in the last war.
Any edge that could tip the scales in our favor is needed.
“It was able to take down Moros. That’s the kind of weapon we can’t ignore,” Willow breathes.
Brielle’s eyes lock with mine the moment the name leaves Willow’s mouth. We haven’t discussed whether we would keep the information about Moros a secret, but now, I don’t think that would matter.
I haven’t had time to process what it truly means for Moros to have control of Crea, let alone begin to understand whose blood runs in my veins. Not only am I the daughter of the beloved queen, but also the daughter of the guardian of the Vale.
Nightfall isn’t the only weapon. Truth is a double-edged sword, demanding a piece of your soul the longer you contain it. It may hurt to say, but it hurts far worse to keep it in.
We need Willow and Aster. They know the border far better than we do. And they’ve trusted us enough to tell us about Nightfall and Eurydice’s call.
Maybe it’s time we trusted them back.
They don’t know what we do—that Moros is alive. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s in Crea and so is the dagger.
My heart races as I say, “There’s something we haven’t told you two yet.”
Willow and Aster turn to me, and I can feel Leda burning a hole into my forehead. But I ignore her.
“Moros isn’t dead.” My voice comes out cold. “He’s not only alive, but ruling Crea in the king’s absence.”
I don’t mention that the king is absent because he’s here. As much as I hate Adrian right now, I don’t want him dead. And I don’t know how deep the anger toward Creans runs for Willow and Aster.
Willow gasps, and Aster jumps to his feet. They’ve been so secluded on Kauri, so focused on finding this weapon, that they wouldn’t know much of what’s happening on the mainland.
“Of course he’s dead,” Aster snaps. “We all saw him die that night. I refuse to believe he’s anything but rotting in the Vale.
Because if he isn’t dead, then that means all of this…
” He motions around him. “Looking for Nightfall, believing it had any kind of power, was for nothing—it means the lives lost during the war were for nothing.”
Willow lays a hand on his shoulder, but there’s a shift in the air, like all of the moisture in the room is being pulled toward him. Aster’s chest rises and falls in rapid succession, and I let my shadows wind around my wrists, curling up my arms as he watches me.
His nostrils flare; he shifts just enough to angle his right hand toward me, a pool of water forming in his palm. Leda steps between us, light spilling from her hands. Aster moves toward us, and a growl rips from Leda’s throat.
“Enough,” Brielle snaps, staggering to her feet. She sways, and Willow has an arm around her waist in the blink of an eye, holding her up. “Do you not see, Aster?”
Her gaze pleads with his, and the fury in his eyes begins to dim.
“If Moros didn’t die that night, then that confirms what Nyx told Lu.” Brielle looks at me. “That the wrong person was wielding it.”
My blood turns to ice in my veins, chilling me from the inside out.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Calix mutters, his voice strained.
Aster nods, his gaze stormy. “But we still don’t have a way to get to the dagger.”
They don’t, but Adrian does.
I suck in a sharp breath, my thoughts racing.
Adrian was able to cross through without being trapped in the Shadow Lands, along with the Lyle boys, Reichardt, and a few soldiers. If their plan was to bring me to Crea…then they knew they had a way to get back.
“We may not know,” I rasp, my hands beginning to shake as I realize what this means—where I’m going back to. “But Adrian does.”
Leda hisses through her teeth while Willow and Aster take a step toward me, eyes wide. They know that there are humans in Penyth, but not that they came from Crea.
“And you’re going to trust him to tell you the truth?” Leda snorts a laugh.
I’ll never be able to trust Adrian again. The only thing I can rely on is that he wants to get home more than he wants to be stuck here. My chest tightens, and I swallow down the bile creeping up my throat.
“Adrian wants to get home; he hates Penyth—hates fae and magic,” I reason. “I don’t think he’ll help me cross from the goodness of his heart.” A dull ache forms behind my temples. “He hates that I’m fae now.”
Despite everything Adrian has done, it’s hard to forget who he once was to me. He was a boy who became my friend, someone who cared about me, not just whose name I had.
He wormed his way into my life, and now—lying to me, withholding information about Linnick’s death, killing his father… Well, I suppose I killed the man who raised me, too.
My jaw clenches, teeth pressing together until the sound of them grinding grates against my ears.
“You could be walking right into a trap, playing into their hand by going back there,” Leda whispers, her voice softening. “Don’t forget Moros is the one who encouraged Adrian to come get you.”
Calix shakes his head. “But we don’t know his motivation for that. He could’ve done that just to get Adrian out of the way so he could rule.”
“Maybe Moros didn’t believe Adrian would make it back,” Sidra murmurs.
Maddox signs with his hands. Orla and Sidra watch intently. Sidra nods and adds, “Maddox agrees it could’ve been a mission destined to fail, hoping they didn’t come back at all.”
A weight settles onto my shoulders, pressing down so hard that my hands shoot out to grip the edge of the cot.
“Lu?” Calix crouches down beside me, his brows pulling together as his gaze flicks down my body—one warrior assessing another.
“I’m good, I just need a minute,” I huff, my eyes heavy.
Willow slips away, her feet pattering across the wooden floorboards. “Mylah?” she calls out, disappearing outside.
I wave Calix off. “I’m fine, I promise.”
Mylah hurries in, her gaze on me, with Willow trailing behind her. She shoos Calix away and takes his place, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead.
“You need to rest,” she says softly. “I’ll get you some broth and mix in a few tonics. You should be right as rain in the morning.”
Rest is the last thing I want. That’s all we’ve done since we got here, and if I’ve already been out for a few days, then haven’t I rested enough?
I shake my head and lean away from her. “I don’t need rest; we need to talk to Adrian—”
Brielle’s deep and steady voice cuts me off. “You were just knocked out for over a day because one of the Divine swept your subconscious to another plane.”
My gaze finds hers, and I fall quiet.
“We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
Leda nods her head to the others, signaling for them to follow her. “We’ll talk to Adrian, see what we can get out of him,” she promises. “Rest now so we can get out of here.”
I swallow, hating that as the words leave her mouth, my eyes begin to blink more slowly. Sleep calls to me, beckoning me to my dreams. As much as I want to fight her—and everyone else—on this, I can’t deny the way my limbs tremble and my vision blurs.
With a final moment of hesitation, I nod.
Brielle stays in the room with me as the others filter out. Mylah brings us both a bowl of broth and soft bread. We shovel it down in silence, and Brielle grunts her appreciation to Mylah about the taste, but every spoonful slides down my throat like ash.
Brielle settles into her cot, and I do the same, my thoughts heavy. I want to talk this out more, figure out how we’re going to find the dagger once we get to Crea and if Willow and Aster know exactly where it is, or just that it’s in the human realm.
I turn toward the open window. The air is both cool and warm as it breezes in. Outside, I can catch glimpses of wyverns settling onto large surfaces built into the trees—their Riders curled up against them.
In the sky, there are blurs of motion—wyverns flying above, weaving in and out of the forest.
The wyverns aren’t just beasts of battle here; they’re home.
Knowing and seeing the truth of this place, I see it now.
Kauri is beautiful—if it were any other day and there wasn’t the weight of the realm pressing down on my shoulders, I think I would love it here. It’s quiet and calm. Tucked away from the world with no pressures from society. There are no rules of how to act or what to do; it just…exists.
Wyverns and fae alike have learned to build a home here.
What Aster said is beginning to make more sense now; they live together—as one.
I think Graylen would love it here; the freedom, the secluded nature and endless space to spread out among the forest. After the fight with Daimon, I was so angry. Ready to take on the world to get Graylen back.
But now that we’re here…
My chest tightens as realization sinks in. If Moros finds a way to spread darkness through more than just Crea, then there won’t be a Kauri for him to see one day. I want finding Graylen to be my top priority, but how can it be when saving him could cost us the realm?
He wouldn’t want that—wouldn’t want me to make his sacrifice be for nothing. Graylen didn’t just save me; he gave us a chance. He gave us time. Time to stop Vidaris and her minions. How can I save him when I could be bringing him back to a world that’s past the point of saving?
I turn my head toward Brielle, only to hear soft snores filtering over to me already. In truth, the one person who would listen isn’t here. In fact, he couldn’t be farther from reach.