SIXTY-FOUR
WILLOW
“Are you sure it isn’t Caz?” I whisper as she withdraws her sword.
Instead of answering, she grips the handle of her weapon, and in a flash, she disappears.
A gasp escapes me as I search for her.
“Korah?” I call. “Korah!”
A gust of wind zips by me, kicking up grass and dust. Korah returns to the center of the field, but she’s not alone. When I see the familiar woman lying at her feet, my breath hitches.
“Spying while drunk.” Korah lifts the tip of her sword to Danica’s chin. “Even if I weren’t a Regal, I’d have smelled you from a mile away.”
Danica grimaces at Korah, a hand raised to block the sun. “I wasn’t spying.”
“Danica?” I call, rushing their way. She looks so different. Her face is hollow, and her hair that was once dark is now streaked with silver. She’s aging. Deteriorating. Dying .
Korah pulls her sword back, and Danica grunts as she wobbles to a stand. I help her, and when she lifts her head to see me, her eyes instantly well with tears.
It’s completely unexpected when she pulls me in and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Willow, I’m so sorry,” she sobs over my shoulder. “I thought he would be safe. I thought they could help.” She jerks away, and I can smell the liquor on her breath. It seems she’s been bathing in it.
“It’s okay, Danica. Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re here,” I breathe over her shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Danica yanks away from me. “This is all your fault!” she shouts, spinning to face Korah again. She snatches out her katana and directs it at the Regal.
“Danica, don’t.” I grab her arm, but she jerks away from me again.
“We trusted you to keep us safe. To keep us alive . Instead, my mate is dead, and I will be too. Look at me!” she screeches, clutching a handful of silver hair. “I’m aging faster than I can blink!”
“If you hadn’t run away, you would be fine, Danica,” Korah responds in a calm voice.
The gentleness of her voice seems to piss Danica off more. “I ran away because I no longer trust you or your sister,” she spits back. “All this time I worshipped The Regals. I prayed to you, trusted in you, believed you were guiding me, but everything I love has been ripped away from me because of you !” Danica moves closer with her sword, but Korah lifts a hand, and like a magnet, the katana flies from Danica’s grasp to settle in Korah’s palm.
“Right,” Danica grumbles. “Take that away from me too. What does it matter anyway?” She tosses her hands in the air with defeat.
“You’re here because you heard about the war,” Korah says, ignoring her statement.
“Yes, I heard about the war. I was in Vanora when Queen Alora delivered the message about it. She’s recruiting fighters, warriors. Their guards are looking for those who know a thing or two about battle. I matched the criteria.”
“And you ran away so you wouldn’t have to fight?” I ask. I wouldn’t blame her in this state.
Danica rubs her milky eye with a sigh. “I didn’t run away. I came to Blackwater because regardless of what has happened, I’m indebted to Caz. If there is a war, I want to be a part of his army. That bitch Selah took my mate from me—she tormented him for weeks, and I want to be on that field so I can watch her bleed. I hear this is more Caz’s fight than anyone else’s anyway.”
“It’s everyone’s fight, but yes, Caspian is an important factor,” Korah responds.
“How about I do you one better?” A voice rises from a distance, and Korah smirks, not daring to move, as Danica and I crane our necks to find the voice.
Like a stallion decked in gold armor, Hassha strides across the field to meet us. Her ivory skirt gives her a feminine touch, and her sandals are strappy, climbing all the way to her calves. Her midsection is exposed, revealing a strong set of abs.
A few giggles catch my attention, and I spot Minka and Maia running onto the field too with Carra and Milandra trailing behind.
“Hassha,” Danica says, breathless. It seems no matter how much she blames Hassha too, she still admires her. Still worships her in a way. Perhaps it’s because she’s a Kessel descendant and it’s rooted in their blood.
Hassha gives Danica a gentle smile as she places a hand on her shoulder. “You can fight alongside the Kessel warriors, just like your mother once did.”
Danica’s lips move like she wants to say yes but stop like she’s changed her mind. “I’d rather fight for Monarch Harlow. At least he isn’t a traitor.” She turns her nose up at Hassha, yanking away.
Hmm. I digress. She’s just as pissed at her as she is at Korah.
Hassha looks Danica over. “In this state, you won’t even be able to witness the war. You’ll be dead long before that.”
“And whose fault is that?” Danica retorts.
“You are upset, Danica, and you have every right to be,” Hassha says, “but we need your skills, and you cannot let them go to waste because of your anger. I’ve read your mind thoroughly, and I know dying this way isn’t what you want, no matter how heartbroken you are. If there was a way we could save Warren, we would have done it, and you know it. I never betray my women. Ever . It is my duty to do what’s best in order to protect them.” Hassha’s eyes flicker with a spark of blue. “I can heal you today and swear you into the Kessel tribe. That is a dream of yours, correct? Ever since you were a little girl, all you wanted was to become a warrior like your mother. I can give that to you, give you a family who loves you. You’ll never be alone again.”
Danica’s glances at Hassha before focusing on the twins who are collecting flowers and stuffing them into a woven basket Carra is holding.
After several silent, thick seconds, Danica says, “Fine.”
Hassha smiles. “Very good.” She then puts her attention on me. A prickle scatters across my brain, and I wince. “Change of heart?”
“Guess so.”
She provides a curt nod. “Wise choice. I have something for you.” When Hassha lifts her hand, a gold urn appears in her palm.
My eyes stretch as she hands it to me. I study the sleek urn, catching my reflection in it. Warren’s full name is engraved on the side, and the sight of it brings tears to my eyes.
Danica gasps. “Is that Warren?”
“It is,” Hassha answers. “I promised Willow I’d bring the ashes to her.”
Danica’s eyes shimmer.
“You’ll help me decide what to do with him,” I promise her.
Her throat bobs. Then she nods, forcing a smile at me.
I’m not sure how to feel about having the ashes. On one hand, a part of me is still angry that he’s gone. On the other, I’m glad I have something left of my brother.
I swivel my gaze to Hassha’s, blinking my tears away and shoving the anger aside. “Thank you, Hassha.”
She gives me a nod and a warm smile.
“Willow!” Maia runs my way, throwing her arms around my waist. I laugh, holding the urn up a bit as Minka joins her. They bury their faces into my stomach, and Hassha laughs, grabbing the urn from me so it doesn’t fall out of my hands.
“Hi, girls.” I squat and hug them back.
“Do you want to collect seashells with us?” Minka asks. “Blackwater has the best kind.”
“Will you? Please?” Maia pleads with rosy cheeks.
I laugh. “Sure.”
“I’ll have this delivered to your home,” Hassha says, gesturing to the urn.
“Thanks.”
“Yes!” Maia hisses, elated. “Come on.” They grab my wrists and drag me across the field.
“Make sure you’re careful in the water,” Hassha calls after us.
“Don’t worry,” I call back. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”
Hassha sends me a grateful smile before handing the urn to Milandra and then facing Danica. The last thing I see before we’re dipping between the trees is her placing both hands on Danica’s shoulders.
When we’ve passed a thicket, Minka says, “Where’s Caz?”
Maia instantly blushes, and I suppress a smile. She still has a little crush on him.
“He’s around,” I answer, not really knowing myself. “Somewhere.”
“Why aren’t you with him?” Curiosity burns in Maia’s voice.
“I was training with your aunt Korah.”
“Why wasn’t he training with you?” Minka tosses in.
“I think he’s busy.”
“Are you mad at him?” Maia asks, a splash of sadness in her eyes.
“What? No!” I laugh, squeezing her hand when she slips it in mine. “We’re fine. Don’t worry.”
“Are you certain?” Minka asks, inclining her chin. “Because I have my sword in my tent, and I can give him a slice or two if he’s upset you.”
I bust out laughing. “I thought you liked Caz.”
“I do. But I don’t like to see you sad.”
I hesitate. “I look sad to you?”
“A little,” Maia quips, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Oh.”
We near the shore, and when their toes hit the sand, they take off, instantly searching for shells. I’m relieved because I swear those girls can read minds just like their mother.
Hell, maybe they can but they aren’t fully aware of it yet.
I let the thought go and slip out of my shoes, ready to join them until I see a burst of white light in the sky. A dark figure appears like a splotch in the light and hurtles toward the shore.
Oh my goodness.
It’s aiming for us.
“Minka! Maia!” I scream, rushing for them.
But I’m too late.
The figure lands with a thud, sending me and the twins flying backwards.