7. Elorie
Elorie
The remnants of last night’s storm scatter the trail that leads to the prison. Debris is large enough to climb at certain points. Trees lie on their sides.
Alyssium has never been a beautiful place. Compared to the lush foliage in the Ley Court and the rich pine forests of Tempest, Alyssium is gray and dying. Broken from the constant wave of storms and decaying from the inside out.
My gaze lifts to the break in the trees, where the prison gates sit left open at the top of the hill.
Dirt the color of soot remains at the base of the iron posts where the morning glories used to grow.
When the flowers died, they didn’t wither.
They crumbled to ash like the final embers cooling on a snuffed-out fire.
I brush my fingertips over the handles of my daggers as I stare ahead. Two on each thigh. One on my hip. They won’t do me any good against what looms in the prison before me, but I count them over and over, convincing myself I can do this regardless.
“What do you think your mother will be like?” Letia asks as Greer and Callum trudge ahead of us.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t even know why they locked her in this place.”
“Do you think she did something terrible?”
“If you asked me a few turns of the moon ago, I might have said yes. But now…”
Looking at Callum walking ahead of me, I think of what he told me about his father killing his mother. How the Crown forgave him because he was important to their cause. Then, I think of Wilder, locked inside those walls for protecting his people.
There are always two sides, Wilder said to me.
What is right and what is wrong when the answer depends on which side you fight for? People suffer at both ends. Sacrifices are necessary. So why can’t I seem to accept that now?
“Are you nervous to meet her?” Letia asks.
“Yes. No.” I step over a large branch that lies in our path. “I don’t know how I feel about it. Mabel was the closest person to a mother I’ve had.”
She clears her throat, her eyes glassy at the mention of her mother. “Well, I do know one thing. My mother would have been very disappointed in your choice of outfit.”
Her comment chokes a sad laugh from both of us as I look down at my leathers.
“She’d insist I wear a dress for the occasion.”
“She would.” Letia’s smile is sad. “You better make it out of there.”
“Gods forbid you have to handle Callum alone,” I joke, and he glances back at us with a frown that has us both giggling.
“Yes, Gods forbid.” She reaches for my hand, squeezing it. “But also, I need you. We’ve done everything in this life together so far. It would be a shame to stop now.”
“It would be a shame,” I agree. “But you don’t need me if it comes down to it. You’re the one who kept the village together while I was gone. You’re stronger than you think you are.”
She frowns but doesn’t argue. With a final squeeze, she releases my hand, and we walk the rest of the way to the prison in silence.
We pass the line where the morning glories used to grow, and I swear the air thickens. My heartbeat thunders in my throat.
Even Greer, whose determination has blazed all morning, stiffens her back as we cross the boundary of the prison.
Her hand rests on the pommel of the sword as her gaze lifts to the spires.
Her silver-winged jewelry is sharper in the harsh light of morning, reflecting what little sun breaks through the clouds.
Silver-painted runes mark her ebony skin at her temples. In Tempest, her aunt wore similar runes, and when I asked Greer what they meant, she told me they’re blessings of sight and fortune. Marks of Evaline to grant them the wisdom to see a journey through.
Greer is practical to a fault, but for me, she bears those marks today in hope.
Letia trudges ahead, stopping with Greer at the prison entrance while Callum snags my elbow.
“I have something for you.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small gray stone on a string.
At its center is a perfect circle of runes carved into the surface.
“I read about these in Emual’s journal. He said the first human guards who entered the prison wore pathway runes to help guide their way.
They believed these helped lead them out. ”
Callum sets the stone in my palm, and it’s cold as ice.
“Why did the guards stop wearing them then? I don’t remember these growing up.”
“Maybe they didn’t work. Or they grew confident without them. They stopped traveling as deep once they learned the prison would lead them to where they needed to go. It might be meaningless, but I thought it was worth giving this to you just in case.”
“I appreciate it.” I take his hand, tears stinging my eyes.
This gift is unlike Callum, who usually relies only on things he’s certain will work. Him handing me this necklace is his way of upholding his promise to my father to protect me in every way he can.
I sweep my hair aside, and Callum secures the necklace. It falls just above my hanging heart rune that marks my soul bind to Wilder.
“The prison guides you where you need to go,” Callum reminds me. “So long as you stay on the path, you should be able to get back out.”
“If my blood allows.” I look to the runes decorating the doorway, the ones that trap Fae inside until death.
Last time I walked this path, my magic slumbered deeper. I had not yet learned to wield it. I did not know what I was. Now, I do. And in the eyes of the gods, I’ve changed. What that means for walking inside is unknown.
“You’ll be fine,” Callum decides, stepping between me and the prison to look me in the eyes. “But be careful. Just because she’s your mother by blood doesn’t mean you can trust her. Your father didn’t.”
“I don’t trust her,” I assure him. “But I have to learn what she knows about my magic—how it works. Everything Malachi said about Wilder’s and my magic made it sound like we should have been able to heal the realms, but we couldn’t. Something is missing.”
“Get your answers and then get out of there.” Callum lifts the stone from my chest, spinning it between his thumb and finger.
“And you’ll be ready once I do,” I say, mustering the last of my optimism. “Greer knows where I left the sword. It might not have much magic after what it did to the Well, but make it work. Find the rings and open the Gate. I’ll meet you within the week.”
“We’ll be ready.”
I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around Callum’s shoulders. It takes him a moment to hug me back, and when he does, I sense the fear he isn’t voicing. The doubt we both have but are ignoring.
He stays at the gate while I walk to meet Greer and Letia at the prison door.
“I’ve heard stories about this place,” Greer says, peering into the pitch-black darkness. “None of them captures whatever this is.”
She plants her palm on her stomach, her face turning queasy.
“I don’t feel it,” Letia says, eyebrows pinched.
“That’s a good thing,” I remind her.
I grab Letia’s hand, then Greer’s. We share a silent look. Everything has already been said. Promises have already been made. I squeeze once and then let them go to face the prison.
Endless darkness stares back. Empty and somehow also full. The depth of a night sky without stars. A bitter tinge marks my tongue as I press closer, and the chill that runs through me has no beginning or end.
It’s physical, yet it’s in my mind.
I glance back with a final nod as my friends back away.
This might be the last time I see any of them. It might be my last view of the sky.
With eyes wide open, I tip my head back and stare at the clouds, painting shapes in the gray overcast. Pressing my hand to my chest, I burrow into those tunnels within me. I search the dark threads for one flicker of gold. One hint of aether that is not there.
I close my eyes and look through the darkness, hoping if Wilder hears nothing else of me, he hears this.
“I know you can’t find me where I’m going,” I whisper through the thread in my mind to Wilder.
“So if I never make it out, I’m sorry. Once again, I’m not choosing us, even after I promised I would.
But right now, I can’t. Not when everything else is at stake.
And as much as it hurts, I hope you’re doing the same.
In Vaelier, for your people. I hope you choose them because they need you.
You doubt yourself, but trust me, they need you. Just like I do.”
My throat aches even as my words are in my mind. My chest burns with the absence of him on the other side.
“I think I always knew what you were to me. Not in my mind but in my bones. In my heart. Before I ever truly understood what mates are, something always held me back from connecting with anyone else. This missing piece that nothing could fill. Until the first time I heard your voice. Gods, you were such a pain sometimes. Never letting me off the hook easily.”
I think back to Wilder in my ear, taunting me, always pushing me to fight harder, long before I understood why he cared.
“I knew you were my other half before I understood I wasn’t whole.
Even if this is all we get, thank you for helping me see through the stars.
Thank you for finding me in the darkness.
I hoped we’d have a chance to work through what happened at the Rite.
Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. Either way, don’t stop fighting, and I won’t either. No matter what.”
I wait for a moment, staring into the dark. A single hollow thread stares back. Not so much as a stir of magic flickers through it. Maybe when I heard his voice on the beach the day after I arrived on Alyssium, I imagined it. I heard what I needed to give me hope to get me to this point.
As I gaze into the emptiness of the threads, the mark on my chest warms. But it only makes the cast of doubt surrounding me heavier.
Slowly, I pull back, sliding out of my mind and into my body. I leave Wilder in that place in my heart that is only his, and I harness my confidence. My entire life, I’ve let others guide me.
My father.
Callum.
And even after I discovered my magic, my decisions were not my own. I’ve been the pawn between Crowns. The hope and destruction of the realms. As I take a step forward, I make a choice. I make a promise that I will not fear what I find in the darkness. I will use it.
Stepping into the prison, I leave the light behind.