Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
Citrine
We’re fucked.
“Run that by me again,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
Zephyr grumbles restlessly from behind me, the sound getting lost with the waves crashing against the rocky beach.
It wasn’t hard to spot five wyverns along the northern seas of the Adronicus. Zephyr knew the general direction to go, but we still had to search half a day to find them. Calix must’ve drawn the short straw to be the one to deliver me the bad news.
The others are a few hundred paces down the beach, Brielle no doubt preparing the new warriors for what’s to come.
Calix scratches the back of his neck, the only sign of discomfort he shows. But he holds my gaze. I’ll give him that.
“They said war isn’t their calling anymore,” Calix repeats for the third time.
“Not their calling?” I snap, trying to keep my anger in check. Otherwise, I’ll explode. And that’s not the leader our people need right now. Not ever. “They’re fucking war fae. Who cares what they feel called to do, this is about protecting thousands of fae—this is about keeping our home safe.”
Calix throws his hands up, a fire sparking in his gaze.
“Yeah, Leda, I’m aware,” he throws at me. I stiffen at his tone, but hold my tongue and let him talk. “We told them they were letting their people down, and they didn’t care. Maybe you or Lu could’ve convinced them, but who am I to ask that of them?”
My nostrils flare.
“You’re blaming me?” I snap.
He shakes his head and stamps his hands on his hips, his gaze falling briefly to the ground before looking back up to meet my gaze.
“I’m not blaming you, Le.” He sighs.
“My name is short enough, I don’t need a nickname,” I grumble.
Calix huffs a laugh and says, “So you’ve said.”
He runs his hand over his shaved head, his bicep tensing with the motion, causing the ink covering his arm to stretch. My gaze snags on it, just as it always does with Aegis’ markings. I’ve always been fascinated by them, but Calix’s are some of my favorites.
Not that I’d mention that to him.
“Look, it isn’t anyone’s fault,” he finally says, turning to face me. “But you’re the princess—so is Lu. Willow and Aster are warriors, and warriors respond to strength. Your last name gives you a certain level of power that I don’t have.”
He’s right. I know he is.
“Plus,” he adds, drawing the word out. “You in particular have a certain sense of…persuasion that not many others do.”
My teeth grind together.
Being the savior foretold in the prophecy comes with more than I’ve bargained for. From the moment the council believed I was the one the prophecy predicted to save our land, people have looked at me differently.
“Just because the prophecy says I’m—”
“I’m not talking about the prophecy, Le,” Calix cuts me off, his jaw working. I narrow my eyes at the name, but stay silent, curious to hear where this is going. “It isn’t what people believe you can do one day, it’s what you’re capable of now. You’re our leader.
“Not because of some ancient fate, but because you worked your ass off to be respected by not just the Woodland, Undine, and Nocturna, but by the Aegis, too.” He gestures to himself. “And you of all people know how hard it is to get the Aegis to listen to someone that isn’t Cyprian or Iris.”
I sigh, but my chest warms at his words.
“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve been born Aegis,” I mutter. More than that, I wish I weren’t the one the council thinks the prophecy was about. I want to be respected for the reasons Calix said, not because of my supposed fate.
Calix laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he says, “I’d like to think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
My brows raise and he shrugs, turning to rejoin his fleet without another word.
Suddenly, my body is launched forward as something bumps me from behind. I gasp, my reflexes kicking in to right myself before I fall.
Not something. Someone.
I whirl around, glaring at Zephyr.
She lays her head in the sand and makes herself comfortable.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” I mutter.
I roll my eyes, trailing behind Calix so I can talk to Brielle.
His back faces me as he walks in front of me, the tattoos up his neck covering the majority of his flesh.
His traps flex as he turns his head to the side, looking at me over his shoulder.
I can’t help but notice how defined his muscles are—how even with his thick Kauri-issued clothing, I can still see his muscles shift beneath it.
“We can do this without Willow and Aster,” he calls out, slowing to let me catch up. Once I’m beside him, he adds, “Whatever you decide our next move is, I know you’ll make the right choice.”
I swallow, falling silent as his words run through my head.
I know you’ll make the right choice.
That’s just the problem, isn’t it?
I’m terrified my decision won’t be the right one, and my failure will result in lives being lost. I’m not queen—I don’t wear the crown that’s tied to the land. But my mother isn’t here, and we’re still waiting to hear from her.
So, it’s on me.
Calix tips his chin toward me before breaking away and joining Maddox, Orla, and Sidra to where they’re sitting around a small fire.
Brielle is standing on the edge of the beach, staring out at the waves and I start toward her. She’s the only one here with experience being a Rider in the last war. If anyone will have advice, it’ll be her.
I stop shoulder-to-shoulder with her, listening to the way the sea breaks against the shore before receding and starting all over again.
“We need Willow and Aster.” I sigh. We could use their skills to help defend our land against Moros and his forces. We need to be prepared for anything. “You were once close with them, what more will it take to convince them to join us?”
Brielle shoves her hands into her pockets, her eyes remaining fixed on the sea.
“We won’t change their minds,” she says. “If they wanted to join us, they would.”
I clench my jaw, wanting to pull my hair out because I know she’s right. If they wanted to be here, they would.
“So we go on without them.” The words taste like acid, but it’s our only choice. “Iris and Cyprian’s messenger hawk can bring them our answer.”
Iris’s ability to influence minds is one of the most extraordinary I’ve ever seen.
I could practically see her gleaming green eyes reflected in the white-tailed hawk she sent us.
Her letter explained that the hawk had been carrying her words for some time, searching for us as she watched through its beady gaze.
She asked us to join Cyprian at the old Rider camp. The one Brielle used to live in.
“With Moros finding a way to get Crean soldiers through the curse of the border, we can’t risk letting them close to the palace.
” To my mother. I look at Brielle, finding the same determination from my words reflecting back in her gaze.
“If the Creans are already here, then they’re after the crown. ”
The crown tied to the land.
The crown that whoever wears it, influences Penyth.
If Vidaris and Moros are after it, then they’ll stop at nothing to get it. And if they gain control of Penyth, then Lunaria finding Nightfall will be pointless. Because at that point, there will be nothing left to save.
“War is here, Brielle,” I say. “We need to prepare ourselves for the worst.”
Brielle nods, her face grim.
“We knew when the wyverns started arriving it was on the horizon,” she agrees.
“But the last time this happened, we had years to prepare. Now…” she turns to her fleet, to where Calix is throwing sand on Sidra and Orla is clenching her stomach as she laughs.
“They aren’t ready, Leda. None of them are. ”
I swallow.
“It doesn’t matter,” I force out. “We prepare to fight.”