Chapter 50
I physically recoil from Elias, sick and horrified all at once.
“Don’t be a fool,” Katiya snarls, dropping into a fighting stance and bouncing on the balls of her toes. Surely, she wouldn’t attack her brother.
My nails bite into my palms. How can he possibly think this is a trick? But then I remember something I learned in school, a little factoid whispered into the chaos of my mind about how trauma can trick the mind.
War is trauma alone. Thinking his sister dead? Doubly so.
I cross those last few feet between us. His laughter cuts off abruptly. His eyes widen and stare into mine. I’d give anything to lay my hand on his cheek, but there’s no way with that damn helm on his head. So I settle for the next best thing and place my hand on the side of his helm.
Elias is completely still. He could kill me in an instant, with a sword, magic, or even his bare hands. Instead, he sucks in a ragged breath. “Aimee.” Purple light engulfs us, his power surging and undampened. My skin tingles from the rush of it.
“It’s really me,” I promise. “I gave Katiya the potion, and it healed her.”
A strange look flickers through his eyes. “Your brother?”
I nod. “He’s okay. He’s healed. We came to help you, to save you.”
“You came back,” he says, voice filled with wonder.
“Of course I did.” I smile, just for him. “I love you.”
Elias rips off his helm and casts it aside. A moment later, his lips are on mine. Feelings explode through me. All my bravery crumbles at the feel of his arm coming around me to hold me close. The tears I thought I’d emptied in my bed at my parents’ house return full force.
He’s here. He’s alive. I made it in time.
“Aimee.” He breathes my name like a prayer against my lips, pulling back just enough that I can see the pure love shining in his eyes.
A whoop and roar shatter the moment.
Elias tucks me against him then whirls toward the sound, sword angled in front of us for defense.
A group of Unseelie rushes forward to attack while the Seelie are distracted.
It’s no surprise who leads them. I’d recognize Orek’s foul form anywhere as he charges at the head of the pack, swinging his sword right into a Seelie warrior who did not block in time.
I dart my gaze away as blood sprays and the two sides meet like waves crashing against rock.
“You were supposed to be safe, away from this,” Elias says, panic lacing his voice. He’s not even looking at me. Instead, he watches the battle, sword at the ready, should anyone come for us.
“We can stop this.” I tug at his armor to get his attention. “The Seelie will choose peace if we do. Please!”
“The Seelie?” he snarls.
“Yes! The kings have agreed.” I gesture back toward Mira.
She’s managed to reform her shield, albeit smaller this time.
The King of Fire, Lysandir, is at her side, one arm protectively around her, the other gripping his sword.
My brows pinch. But where are the kings of the Air and Forest?
My heart plummets toward my feet. If they’ve gone back on their word, betrayed us…
Katiya is at our side now, her swords still angled and ready to fight. “Brother, your orders?”
“The Seelie almost killed you.” His grip on me tightens protectively. “I saw— I thought—”
“Yes, but the Forest King helped heal me.”
I feel Elias stiffen against me in surprise. “And where is he now?”
The fighting has spread, the lines closing around us. “Elias. Call for peace,” I beg. “Please. Trust me.”
His gaze locks with mine and does not leave me.
The ground beneath our feet trembles, and he roars, “Unseelie stop!”
Then he calls again in another language, maybe their native one.
Some halt. Others slow. But some… Some are undeterred.
Shit, shit, shit!
“Unseelie!” Elias raises his sword. “By the order of your king, stop!”
Light flares. I scream as the ground rumbles and a wave of magic bursts from us, sending my hair flying and trying to tear me from his arms. Those around us are blown back—Seelie and Unseelie alike—crashing to the ground from the force of the magic.
Suddenly, I see Sigurd—at least I think it’s him—rise from a throng of Seelie, dark wings spouting from his back, spread wide and beating to help him rise.
“Court of Air! Halt attack!” He draws his hands down then up in quick succession.
Mira and Lysandir are pulled into the sky, the former’s shield fading away. Not too far away, another figure—Riven, King of the Forest—rises, seemingly lifted above the battle by the King of Air.
“Stand down!” the Seelie kings call to their respective peoples.
The distant clangs of metal and cries of battle ebb. Murmured conversation and confusion mix with groans of pain as the fae around us begin to pick themselves up off the ground. Tension in the air hangs so thick it’s almost tangible.
“Peace!” Elias yells. “Cease this battle. We must try for peace.”
Amid the questioning voices from both sides comes something else that raises the fine hairs along my arms.
Laughter. And much of it from the Unseelie.
The Seelie kings continue to call for peace, and from the corner of my eye, I notice some of the Seelie beginning to slowly retreat, stepping back yet never taking their eyes off their enemies.
Suddenly, an arrow zips from the throng of Unseelie straight for the King of Air. I barely have time to register or turn my head before a gust of wind flicks it away like a child swatting a toy. The Seelie jump to attention, weapons raised. Magic tingles in the air.
“Stop!” Sigurd calls again. “Do not retaliate!”
“Katiya,” Elias says in a harsh whisper.
His sister snaps her head in his direction.
“Take Aimee.” His arms loosen, and he attempts to step away.
I grab at his armor. “No!”
“Get her to safety,” Elias continues, voice eerily calm.
“No, Elias.” I dig my fingers into a seam of his arm, grasping for purchase.
But Katiya is already there, gently tugging me away from him. She whispers, “Come.”
Shit. Shit! We’re so close. This cannot blow up now.
More arrows fly, zipping through the air like sparks about to ignite a bomb.
My fingers slip from Elias’s armor, and I stumble back from him, Katiya’s grip on my arm absolute. No.
“Stop! By order of your king!” Elias yells.
He throws out another wave of powerful magic, this time aimed only at the Unseelie forces. A cry of protest rolls through the ranks as the nearest ones are knocked to the ground once more.
The blare of a horn draws every eye on the battlefield, including mine, to the nearby rise in the thick of the battle. Katiya ceases pulling me away. A hissing growl leaves her, and my heart plummets the moment I realize why.
Orek blows the horn again, the sound ringing across the assembled and echoing in the air even once he lowers it from his lips.
“You think we will bow to and scrape to lying Seelie scum?” he yells, voice unnaturally loud.
Those around him cheer, encouraging him like the schoolyard bully he is.
“How many of us have they killed? Maimed? How many of you have lost loved ones and clan members to them?” Orek turns the question on those around him.
“The killing ends today,” Elias calls in return. “We can stop it here and now.”
Nearby Unseelie look from one to the other, as if weighing their option. My heart is lodged in my throat and racing so fast I might faint. Please.
“No one else needs to die today,” Elias continues. “We can have peace. And we have what we need to heal our land. We can have the future I promised. It is here!”
“What we need…” He scoffs. “Your human bait?” Laughter fills the air. “One who arrived with the Seelie? Looks like their little pet to me.”
My cheeks burn with indignation. Oh, to wrap my hands around that bastard’s neck and strangle him.
“The future I want is one where the Seelie feel the pain they have caused. Where the land drinks their blood!” Orek hoists a sword into the air, the act drawing more cheers from those nearest him.
Elias raises his sword. Shimmering violet light radiates from it.
“Enough!” The cheering dies abruptly. “I am your king. Chosen by the land to lead us to a better future, and we will have it.” He points the blade's tip toward Orek. “I should have ended you long ago. Fight me. To the death.”
I hazard a glance at the Seelie. The kings no longer float in the air, save Sigurd.
The army still stands, waiting, but their stances are more defensive, shields raised and ready.
They have kept peace, not used the opportunity to attack, but neither do they rise to support the Unseelie King.
This is a battle between Unseelie, one they must decide—future and life or bloody retribution and death.
It should be an easy choice, but when the blood is high from battle, when the horrors of the past are so fresh on the mind, when it seems like the chance for vengeance may slip away, it’s hard to choose to walk away.
Elias is still, sword extended, waiting for a reply.
Please be safe. He should win this duel. He’s the king, stronger than ever. But I’m sick with worry all the same.
Finally, Orek sheaths his sword, only to remove a crossbow and point it toward Elias.
Nausea churns within me. He can block that. The sword will help him. He’ll be fine.
“Fight to the death?” Orek asks, far too casually. “Well, it’s a good thing I know where to plant a killing blow.” The last word still hangs in the air when he turns the crossbow and looses a shot.
Straight at me.