43. It’s Not Over | Wilder
Wilder pounded his fists into the sand. It did nothing to ease the turmoil slithering through his chest.
A splash behind him had him whirling around to face Maelys and Ridge.
“She’s gone?” Maelys asked, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
Ridge placed a comforting hand on her lower back. She leaned against his side.
“She has a bargain to uphold,” Wilder replied.
His voice was unusually steady despite the aching in his lungs.
“What now?” Ridge asked, his eyes scanning the sea behind them.
The water continued to slosh around the sandbar. The rhythmic swelling of the sea was slower than the drum of his heart.
Heat hammered down on him from the sun, but a chill went down his spine.
He would do this—again.
“She’s going off to save the world,” Wilder blew out a breath. “We might as well do the same here.”
Maelys and Ridge shared a look.
“What do you mean?” Maelys asked.
“I mean,” Wilder’s voice sharpened. “It’s high time I got off my fucking ass and did something. She’s doing everything down there!” He slung an arm toward the sea. “We need to do our part. To make it a world worth fighting for.”
Ridge nodded. “We’re going back to the Wilds, aren’t we?”
Wilder sucked in a breath. “We’re going back to the Wilds.”
Maelys gaped. Her golden eyes were nearly swallowed by the white. “And you’re going to challenge for the throne?”
“I’m going to challenge for the throne.”
They trudged back through the surf towards Jordania and Otto, who appeared to be in a heated debate.
Jordania’s arms waved as if she were casting a spell.
While Otto’s face had turned as purple as some of the leaves in their garden.
“You should tell him!” Jordania hissed.
Her words were carried by the sea breeze right to his ears.
“If I want him to act irrationally,” Otto countered, crossing his arms over his leather-clad chest.
Ridge’s brow furrowed, and Maelys picked up the pace.
“What is going on?” she asked, looking first at Otto, then at Jordania.
Jordania didn’t pull her glare from Otto. “Tell them. Or I will.”
Otto closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sky. His shoulders rose with his deep breath.
Whatever he was thinking about, he was struggling with. He scrubbed a hand down his face and opened his eyes.
“There’s been a new development in the Wilds …”
Wilder felt the cold from his sodden clothes seep into his bones. There was such despair in his friend’s eyes.
Whatever the news was, it had to be terrible.
“What?” Ridge pressed.
“King Oberon has imprisoned Queen Aine.”
Otto’s words were a punch to the gut.
“On what charges?” Wilder barked.
“Treason,” Otto muttered. “In aiding your escape.”
“That’s a lie!” Wilder felt rage well up inside of him, incinerating the chill that had taken root. “She wasn’t even there!”
It was silent.
The wind stopped blowing, and Wilder couldn’t even hear the crash of the sea.
“She was,” Maelys whispered. “She helped orchestrate the whole thing. Her and Daisy.”
“Where is Daisy?” Ridge asked, the lines around his face tightening.
“Aine was helping her to flee the castle when she was taken. Daisy made it out.”
“And where is Daisy now?” Maelys asked. Her jaw flexed as she ground her teeth. “I knew we should have brought her with us.”
Ridge shook his head. “She wanted to stay behind. To keep an eye on things.”
Maelys threw her hands up. “We shouldn’t have given her a choice!”
Wilder’s thoughts were still miles behind them. “They have no way of proving she was involved,” Wilder argued, with a shake of his head.
Maelys dropped her head to stare at her hands. “I told Aine not to be anywhere near that room.”
“They’re going to execute her,” Otto added, his voice hollow. “In a fortnight.”
“She wasn’t even there,” Wilder said again, as if the gods would hear his plea and save her.
Ridge shifted forward. “She called you to her,” he said. “In the chaos, she called you to the door.”
The realization struck Wilder like a slap in the face.
The feminine voice.
It was his mother.
Jordania, who had watched on without a word, stepped into the fold. “We must act.”
Wilder looked at the cottage and then at the sea. He had already planned on going back, but they had to move swiftly now.
“We’ll be outnumbered.”
“Not necessarily,” she replied. Her eyes were as sharp as flint. “Baelwyn has troops camped on the border of the Mannereds, ready to be of use.”
“Can we get a message to him?” Wilder asked.
Jordania looked towards the forest and smiled. “I’ll tell the trees. But we must hurry.”
Wilder took another deep breath.
“Lyra is going to break the tithe in the sea, and then she’ll be heading to land. We need to be ready when she is.”
Otto’s eyes swirled with silver more like a tornado than the usual smoke.
Jordania cast her attention to him as if she had been snared. The ground trembled.
Ridge wrapped his arms around Maelys to steady her. The sea pulled back the tide as if it were shrinking in on itself.
“She already has,” Otto said in a voice not his own. “Oh gods,” his voice broke off in a strangle.
Jordania clutched her chest. Her complexion turned as white as a specter.
Wilder put a hand on Otto’s shoulder and felt him trembling. “What is happening?”
“There was more to the tithe than we knew,” he choked. “The ward is gone.”