30. Ley Lines | Wilder
Wilder drummed his fingers against the tabletop and then rubbed at a pockmarked scar.
The missive from the humans still sat in the middle of the table where they had left it, after going through the words more than a dozen times.
Prince Wilder Vale of the Wilds, dishonored son of House Vale?—
Her Majesty, Queen Ursa Bloodstone of Badenvaria
desires that you cease any and all alterations to the Tidal Tithe,
and hand over any information on the location of
Princess Lyra Auris of Atlantis,
at once.
“They don’t even leave instructions for where we would hand over information,” Maelys grumbled opposite him, rubbing a hand in small circles on her temple.
Ridge’s mouth dropped open in surprise as he leaned away from her. “We wouldn’t hand over information even if owe had it.”
Maelys huffed and elbowed him. “Obviously. What I’m saying is it’s not very official.”
“Well, it did come from humans,” Jordania added, sliding a small stone back and forth between her hands.
Her nose wrinkled delicately as she spoke, but she focused on the stone sliding across the table.
“It means Maelor told the humans of Lyra’s plans and now she’s in danger,” Wilder said as steadily as he could.
But he couldn’t fight the tremor that shook his body.
She was already in a place she loathed, with the people who didn’t care for her, and now the humans wanted her.
“It’s worth mentioning that she is currently safe,” Otto mumbled. “As far as I can tell.”
It should have given him a vague sense of relief. But it did not.
Safe was a relative term.
Safe could mean that she wasn’t in any harm, but that didn’t mean she was okay.
It didn’t mean that she felt valued, or loved, or even taken care of. Wilder found it hard to believe she was being treated as well as she should be.
“Can you not see clearly?” Jordania asked, shadows dimming her golden eyes as she frowned.
Otto shook his head before hanging it between his shoulders.
Wilder could tell what Otto was feeling: guilt and shame.
His visions had only been this unreliable once before, and that time it had also centered around Lyra.
There was too much uncertainty surrounding her.
“I figured your visions would be stronger this near to a ley line,” she hummed.
Wilder’s head tilted to the side. “The one near the willow?”
She shook her head, her long chestnut hair spilling over a shoulder. “No, we’re almost right on top of one here. It runs the length of the shoreline in front of the cottage.”
Wilder sat straighter in his chair. He didn’t know how he had missed it, but he had felt the draw there.
He had just assumed it had to do with him seeking her out.
But every single day he found himself drawn to the shore, basking in the sun and the waves, if only to feel something, anything, again.
“How do you know?” Maelys asked, sharing a look with Ridge.
Jordania shrugged. “A multitude of reasons, starting with the fact that I can feel the energy pulse there beneath my feet when I walk along the surf. But also,” she tossed the stones onto the table, and they made a perfectly straight line. “The stones told me.”
Their eyes lit up with surprise, and she scooped them off the table again. “I can also tell you what might be happening in Atlantis.”
Wilder’s attention skittered from Jordania to Otto. He raised his head, a look of awe lightening his features and chasing away the gloom that had gathered in his eyes.
It appeared he would not be offended if Wilder sought Jordania’s sight instead.
“Yes, tell us what you know.”
She nodded, wrapping the burgundy shawl around her shoulders and pulling it tight.
“It will take some time.”
Jordania didn’t sit upon the shore. No, she walked along the surf. Her charcoal gown turned black where it met the water and clung to her legs.
She kicked up sand and water in her wake, leaving tiny droplets of both almost as high up as her bodice.
Her eyes were open, but she walked without seeing.
The footprints she left behind were there and then gone, erased by the sea.
Wilder inhaled deeply, the briny air filling his lungs and soothing the encroaching anxiety that had gathered there.
That was why he was down here every day.
The air smelled of her, and it chased everything else away.
Ridge cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I know she didn’t say how long it would take, but how long do we have to wait?”
Maelys had plopped down on the ground in front of them. She was the only one who had the foresight to bring a blanket to sit on. “It doesn’t appear to work the same as Otto’s.”
“Because it doesn’t,” Otto sighed. “She’s drawing magic from the ley line and casting her mind out like a net.”
Ridge shivered. “Spooky.”
Otto followed Jordania’s every step, not once taking his eyes off her. “She’s incredibly powerful.”
Ridge gave up on standing and sank to the blanket, nudging Maelys over. She moved just enough for him to squeeze in, and then she leaned against him.
It was easy between them, and Wilder found himself envious.
“You don’t all have to stay,” Wilder said. “I can pass along the information.”
Maelys shook her head. The wind raked through it, sending tendrils of her golden-brown hair tearing from her braid. “We will stay with you.”
Rocks skittered from the pathway behind them. Dust, Oron, Cedric, and Oak hiked down the path. They had forgone armor, their tunics rolled up over bulky forearms, and their feet bare.
“What did we miss?” Dust asked, his attention bouncing between them and Jordania.
From the dirt on their hands and knees, they had been tending the garden.
“Jordania is trying to see what’s going on in Atlantis,” Otto answered over his shoulder.
Oron came to a halt beside Wilder. “We could always trap one of their scouts and torture the information out of him.”
Wilder fought the grin that threatened to spread across his face. “This will probably be faster.”
“But less fun,” Ridge grumbled.
Jordania stopped, her back to them as she faced the sea. She stood still like a rock against the shore.
The waves crashed against her, but she did not move.
Water raced around her, reaching for them.
“She found something,” Otto said, taking a step towards him.
She turned and began trekking towards them. Her mouth moved as if she were speaking, but no words came out.
The lines around her eyes tightened, and her lips thinned.
“Well?” Wilder asked.
Jordania looked tired all of a sudden. “There are several important pieces of information.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin.”
Maelys patted an empty corner of the blanket. “Start at the beginning.”
Jordania swept her sodden dress to the side before collapsing onto the blanket with a huff.
“It’s not pleasant being down there. And I believe the bargain has begun to take its toll on her.”
Wilder’s boots squeaked as he leaned forward. “Is she ill?”
Jordania paused, seemingly deliberating on how to answer. “She is.” Wilder clutched at his chest, hoping to relieve some of the weight that had settled there. “But she is not alone. Her sisters visit often and have been tutoring her in the ways of her magic.”
It should have helped to know that on top of everything else she was facing, she wasn’t alone, but it did not.
He would not know true breath until she was in his arms again.
“Drystan and the council are aware that her life hangs in the balance. But with tumultuous alliances between them and their people, the more pressing matter is Drystan ascending the throne.”
Maelys plucked at the loose threads on the edge of the plaid blanket. “I thought he had risen into power already because of the coup?”
“He can not formally claim the title until he weds Lyra.”
Even though he already knew that was the case, it still didn’t stop him from feeling as if the wind had been ripped from his lungs.
“We knew that already,” Otto said, stretching his back and adjusting his posture.
“Fine.” Jordania quirked a brow. “Did you know they had set a date?”
“What?” The question exploded from Wilder and Ridge.
She nodded. “They’re to be wed during the summer equinox.”
Maelys covered her face with her hands, and Ridge wrapped her up in his arms.
She wept, and Wilder felt her anguish mirror his. There was a fire in his eyes, and he blinked it away.
“I hate this,” Maelys sobbed. “We have to stop it. We have to help her.”
Wilder agreed wholeheartedly but felt powerless to do anything.
“We have to trust that Lyra knows what she’s doing,” Otto added.
“Lyra’s not doing anything,” Maelys snapped, pulling her head from her hands and wiping away her tears. Lines still streaked down her face, and the tears that had yet to fall glimmered like gold. “She can’t help herself, not down there.”
Ridge stroked a large palm down her back. “There’s nothing we can do, Lys.”
She pulled away from his touch and clambered to her feet.
“I am sick of feeling this way. We’ve been hiding out here just waiting for everything to fix itself.
We have to do something. Storm the Wilds, or go back to the Mannereds and plead with Titania to launch a thousand ships.
Do something—anything.” Her voice was a wail in the wind.
Maelys’ shoulders rose and fell rapidly as she cast pleading eyes at all of them, her bottom lip still trembling. Her words were identical to the ones he battled against every single day.
“She’s right,” Wilder added. “I’m sick of training for what could happen. We need to be making things happen.”
Jordania tilted her head back as she stared up at Maelys. “I have an idea, but it’s dangerous and may not work.”
Otto shook his head. “That kind of magic is unpredictable.” Wilder’s brows tugged over his eyes as he shifted his attention between them.
“Care to share with the group?” Dust said with a twitch of his lips. “Some of us don’t have the gift of sight.”
Jordania rose to her full height. “I’m talking about scrying to form a mind connection with Lyra.”
“A what now?” Ridge asked, leaning away from Jordania as if she had threatened to kick him.
“Because we’re on a ley line, the magic here is strong, rooted in our world.” She gestured to the land beneath her feet and then to the sea. “If I can draw upon that, I might be able to link Wilder’s mind with hers so that we can communicate directly and work together to get her back.”
“No,” Otto said, thick with anger. “It’s too dangerous. That type of magic isn’t practiced anymore.”
“How is it dangerous?” Ridge asked.
Wilder was thinking the same thing, but was also still processing the possibility that he could speak with her.
Just hearing her voice would bring light back into his life.
Oron cleared his throat. “I fail to see how that would help us.”
Wilder looked out to sea.
“It would help me.”