Chapter 5 #3
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. Every eye turned to me, and I forced myself to take a breath. “The Summer Court isn’t safe. Not for us.”
“Why not?”
Maddox shifted uncomfortably beside me, and I saw his hand move instinctively to cover the marks on his arm. The marks that branded him as the Summer Court heir.
“Because they’ll want to reclaim what Maddox carries,” I said simply. “If we go there, they’ll try to kill him to get it back. The Summer Court isn’t an option.”
The representatives exchanged uneasy glances.
“Then what about the Autumn Court?” Soren asked. “You freed our people. Arik’s on the backfoot. If we struck now, pushed his forces from behind…”
“The Autumn Court is lost.”
Everyone turned to look at Fizzle. His voice was heavy with something I couldn’t quite identify. Grief, maybe. Or resignation.
“What do you mean, lost?” Dean demanded.
“I mean there’s nothing left to reclaim,” Fizzle said. “The royal family is gone. The court’s power has been returned to the land. There is no throne to take, no heir to rally behind. The Autumn Court as you knew it no longer exists.”
Silence fell over the room, thick and stunned. This was new information. One more thing that Fizzle had been holding back. Or at least holding back from me. How much had Rhidian known?
“Then where?” Vera asked. “Where can we possibly go that Arik won’t follow?”
“Where will Arik go?” Dean cut in. “Where does he hold up when he needs to regroup? If we’re going to strike at him, we need to know where to find him.”
“The Winter Court,” Fizzle said. “It’s the seat of his power. Rumours say he’s been hoarding something there. Some kind of weapon or magic.”
“We should ask Damon,” Ryder suggested. “The nightmare might know…”
“The nightmare’s price for cooperation is Damon’s mind,” Maddox interrupted. “We’re not agreeing to that. And we don’t even know if we can trust anything it says. It could be working with Arik, feeding him information…”
“It can’t be,” I pointed out. “Arik didn’t know we were going to hit the training camp.”
“Damon didn’t know the plan either,” Maddox reminded me.
The discussion dissolved into overlapping arguments of people talking over each other, contradicting each other, getting nowhere. I could feel the frustration building in my chest, pressure mounting behind my ribs, my magic responding to my emotions in ways I still didn’t fully understand.
“...obviously the best strategic…”
“....can’t just walk into the Winter Court…”
“...what about the people who can’t fight, who decides…”
“ENOUGH.”
The word exploded out of me, and my magic went with it.
A wave of force rippled outward from where I stood, shoving everyone back a step. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to startle. Just enough to silence.
Everyone stared at me with wide eyes. Like they’d forgotten what I was. What I could do.
“We’re going in circles,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “We need a plan, and arguing about what we can’t do isn’t getting us anywhere.”
I looked around the room, meeting each pair of eyes in turn.
“We need somewhere for our people to hold. Somewhere safe. Somewhere Arik won’t think to look.
” I took a breath. “The freed Endless who want to leave can take the ship and sail for the Summer Court. It’s the safest option for them, even if it’s not safe for us.
But we need to make it clear to everyone staying that this is their only chance.
Once the ship leaves and we move forward, there’s no turning back. ”
“And where are we moving forward to?” Fizzle asked quietly.
I turned to face him directly for the first time since he’d entered the room.
“The Wildling Forest,” I said. “The Fifth Court.”
Gasps and murmurs erupted around me. Vera actually laughed. A sharp, disbelieving sound that didn’t strike me in a way it once would have.
“The Fifth Court is a myth,” Soren said. “You’ll wander into that forest and never be seen again.”
I ignored him. I was watching Fizzle, and I saw something unexpected cross his features.
Respect.
“If Arik has a weapon,” I continued, “if he’s hoarding some kind of power at the Winter Court, then we need something to fight back with. And the Fifth Court is the only place left where we might find it.”
Fizzle’s wings stilled. He was looking at me the way he used to, back before the lies and the secrets had poisoned everything between us.
Like he was proud of me. Like I’d finally become what he’d always known I could be.
He’d always nudged me in a direction but then he’d patiently wait for me to connect all the dots.
This was no different. I could see that now.
There was just so much more at stake this time.
“It’s not a myth,” he said, and his voice carried clearly through the stunned silence. “The Fifth Court is real. It is a powerful place, ancient and sacred.” His eyes never left mine. “And it’s time for Alyssa to return home.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Home.
“Everyone out,” Fizzle said, his tone brooking no argument. “I need to speak with Alyssa alone.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then Tank nodded and began herding people toward the door. The representatives went first, still looking shell-shocked. Rhidian’s crew followed. My mates lingered. Unsure what to do and I gave them a small nod.
“Stay. We all need to hear this.”
One by one, they moved around the room. Taking strategic places as they eyed Fizzle suspiciously. Dean came to my side, his hand brushing against mine in a silent promise of support.
The silence stretched between us and my eyes stayed locked with Fizzle’s. The air was thick with everything unsaid. All the anger I’d been carrying. All the betrayal. All the questions I’d been too afraid to ask.
Part of me had known all along, I realised.
Some instinct buried deep, some whisper at the edge of my consciousness.
Fizzle had told me I wasn’t born at the Spring Court.
That I was a gift from Nymeria. But he’d never said where.
Never explained what that meant. And at the time, I’d been too caught up in the prophecy, in the battle, in unwittingly cursing my mates to die with me, to push for more.
I should have asked more questions. Should have demanded the whole truth instead of accepting scraps.
Rhidian had known, I realised. He’d kept pushing Fizzle to tell me. I remembered the guilt on Fizzle’s face during those conversations, the way he’d deflected and delayed.
No more.
“Tell me everything,” I said. “Now. Or I swear to the gods, Fizzle, I will…”
“I know,” he interrupted softly. “I know, Alyssandra. And I will. It’s time.”
He settled onto the table in front of me, his small form suddenly looking ancient. Weary. Like the weight of centuries was finally catching up to him.
“I’ve kept so many secrets,” he said. “Told so many half-truths. I told myself it was to protect you. That you weren’t ready.
That the knowledge would only burden you before you were strong enough to bear it.
I swore an oath.” He sighed. “But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps I’ve only made things harder in the guise of trying to make them easier. Perhaps Rhidian…”
“Fizzle…”
“The Fifth Court is where you were born,” he said. “Where Nymeria brought you into existence. She gathered all of the guardians of the courts to witness your creation. To make an oath.”
My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear him over it.
“An oath to do what?”
Fizzle met my eyes, and in his gaze I saw grief and hope and something that looked almost like relief.
“To guide you,” he said. “To protect you. Because you are Nymeria’s second child. Her last hope.” He paused. “And Arik... Arik was her first.”
The world tilted beneath my feet.
Sister.
Arik’s voice echoed in my memory, and suddenly the word meant something entirely different.
Entirely worse.
“Nymeria created him first,” Fizzle continued. “She poured half of herself into him, gifting the land a child, a protector. Someone who was supposed to unite the courts, to guide the realm into an age of peace and prosperity.”
“But he didn’t,” I said flatly.
“No. He was... corrupted. Whether by the power itself or by something dark within him, we never knew. Instead of uniting the courts, he set out to conquer them. To hoard the old magics for himself. To drain the land. To drain Nymeria herself.” Fizzle’s voice grew heavy.
“By the time we realised what he had become, it was too late. He was too powerful. And even if Nymeria could defeat him, the cost would have destroyed her completely.”
I was finding it hard to breathe.
“So she created me instead,” I said. “A weapon to use against her own son.”
“A bridge,” Fizzle corrected gently. “Between all the courts. Someone who could stop him. Someone who could do what she no longer had the strength to do herself.” He looked down.
“Creating you took nearly everything she had left. She is a shadow of what she once was, sheltering at the Fifth Court, too weak to intervene directly. So she had her guardians swear an oath—to guide you, do what they could to protect you, and prepare you for what was coming. Prepare you for the prophecy. To unite.”
“And you’ve been doing that,” I said. “All these years. The cryptic hints, the manipulation, the secrets…”
“I’ve done what I could to fulfil my oath,” Fizzle said quietly. “But I see now that I could have done it better. Should have trusted you sooner with the truth.” He lifted his gaze to mine. “I’m sorry, Alyssandra. For all of it.”
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel.
Arik was my brother. Nymeria was my... mother? Creator? Something. And I’d been made, literally made, to destroy him.
My whole existence was a weapon aimed at someone’s heart.
“The Fifth Court,” I said, latching onto something concrete. Something I could act on. “That’s where Nymeria is. That’s where we need to go.”
Fizzle nodded. “Yes. She’s waiting for you. She’s been waiting for a very long time.”
“Why not send me there sooner? When the Spring Court fell?”
“Because you weren’t ready. You weren’t strong enough. You didn’t have all the pieces for the prophecy or access to the entirety of your magic.”
“Do I have it all now?” I asked, even though I was starting to realise that I already knew the answer.
“No. But you’re close.” Fizzle looked almost sad as he said it. “The lock is starting to open.”