Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
They walked back to camp hand in hand, Loren’s shadows tangling around their feet. Araya felt lighter than she had in days, the tension that had grown between them during her recovery finally broken. They were together again. Whatever else happened, they would face it side by side.
No one commented as they joined the others around the cook fire, though Kai’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth, his eyes darting to Loren’s shadows. But they just stretched lazily, content to curl at Loren’s feet as Finn dished out two more bowls of hearty stew.
“I trust the two of you worked everything out,” he said, handing them each a bowl.
Across the fire, Caela coughed into her shoulder, the strangled sound suspiciously close to a giggle. Araya looked down at her bowl, heat flooding her cheeks, but she didn’t try very hard to hide the smile that spread across her face.
“We did,” Loren said with forced dignity. “And that will be the last we say of it, thank you.”
“The last you say of it, maybe.” Caela slid across the log, leaning across Kai without bothering to hide her grin. “Araya is going to tell us everything at training tomorrow.”
Kai snorted and promptly choked on his stew. Serafina jumped to her feet, thumping him hard between the shoulder blades as laughter rippled around the circle.
Dinner carried on without further incident, chatter and laughter rising like smoke toward the trees long after Brynn collected everyone’s empty bowls. Araya closed her eyes and leaned into Loren, sighing softly when his arm came around her.
“Tired?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
“Exhausted,” she admitted, barely stifling her yawn.
She let him pull her to her feet, leaning heavily against him as they stepped out of the circle and crossed the clearing. The lingering warmth of the spring day had cooled rapidly with the sunset, sending goosebumps racing across her skin.
She toed off her boots and peeled off her breeches, tugging her shirt over her head before crawling into her bedroll. Loren slipped in behind her a moment later, his body curving around hers as the shadows settled quietly all around them.
Araya turned in his arms, pressing her lips to the warm skin where his pulse beat steadily in his throat.
He laughed softly, dipping his head to catch her mouth.
His hand rose to cradle her jaw, the sweep of his tongue against hers leaving her breathless and lightheaded before he finally pulled back, sharp canines grazing her bottom lip.
“Sleep, ael’sura,” he murmured. “I’ll guard your rest.”
Araya smiled, her eyes already heavy. She pressed one last, lingering kiss to his mouth before settling against his chest, the steady drumbeat of his heart lulling her to sleep.
This time, Araya opened her eyes in the garden.
She stared into the wild overgrowth for a long moment, trying to see the shape of what this place must have once been when it was the heart of the fae monarchy.
But the thorn-choked hedges loomed over her, smaller vines shifting and moving like snakes through the undergrowth and curling around the bones.
The magic here tugged on her, urging her forward.
Araya shivered, curling her bare toes into the soft dirt. No boots this time. Whatever waited in there, she’d be meeting it in only a thin shift, her hair wild and unbound around her shoulders.
It was nothing but residual power, she reminded herself. Just the echoes of old magic.
But Loren’s reassurance—so tempting to believe in the daylight—fell flat here.
Araya took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It was time to get the answers she needed.
The undergrowth gave way before her without resistance, soft moss cushioning every step she took as tangled hedges gave way to a stand of trees.
They were no giants—not compared to the towering monoliths that surrounded the palace.
But Araya slowed all the same, unable to shake the feeling that she stood among trees far older than any she had ever seen.
And the magic—
The air was alive with it, aether pressing in around her on all sides.
It burst across her skin, the taste of it bright and metallic on her tongue.
It thrummed in the ground beneath her feet, flowing through every tree and vine and blade of grass until the ancient pulse of it seemed to match the beat of her own heart.
Araya had never felt so small. Except, perhaps, when she stood before the Shadowed Veil.
She continued forward, nearly tripping when the crowded trunks gave way to open space. Soft green moss studded with tiny white flowers carpeted the ground, the sound of water trickling somewhere nearby.
And at the center—
Araya froze. No. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible—not even in a dream.
The female tilted her head, silver hair rippling like a waterfall across the simple linen shift she wore.
Her bare toes curled into the moss, the sweet scent of crushed wildflowers filling the air.
But it was her eyes that stopped Araya dead, achingly familiar even in a face she had only seen in paint and carved stone.
“Queen Araya Starwind,” the magic wearing Loren’s mother’s face said. “Welcome to the Eldergreen.”
“This isn’t possible.” Araya tried to step back, but vines curled around her ankles, rooting her in place. “She’s dead. You’re dead.”
“Queen Lysandiane is dead,” the strange power confirmed. It cocked its head, brilliant green eyes studying Araya without warmth. “But I thought her shape may be less frightening to you than my other forms.”
Araya’s heart pounded against her ribs, every instinct she had telling her to lower her eyes—to not draw the interest of this great power.
But there was nowhere to go. No way to escape the weight of its ancient attention.
Terrible and alien, but also somehow familiar.
She knew this power. Not in this shape—but it had spoken to her before. She was sure of it.
“You’re the magic in the forest,” Araya said. “You saved me.”
“We opened the way.” The forest shrugged. “Your pain—” for the first time the forest’s expression changed, silver brows pinching together. “It woke us.”
Araya swallowed hard. The magic in the air pressed in on her from every side, heavy against her skin.
“Thank you,” she said carefully. “For saving me. But why did you?”
“You’re the queen, are you not?” the forest asked, a cold wind stirring the flowers into a snowstorm of tiny white petals. “You should know this already.”
Araya winced, shivering in the sudden chill. “Sorry,” she said hastily. “I don’t know the rules. I didn’t…I never learned.”
“No. You didn’t.” The forest regarded her for a long moment, considering. “But you wielded us all the same, little queen. Now you must pay the price. Come to us.”
“Is that what happened to Loren’s mother?” Araya asked. “Everyone believes the Arcanum killed her in the assault on Tirnavel—”
“Queen Lysandiane upheld her sacred duty and paid for it with her life,” the forest snapped. “Which is more than can be said for you, little queen. You’ve led the very power she commanded us to destroy beneath our branches.”
Araya sucked in a sharp breath, her chest filling with ice. “What?”
“He hunts you.” There was nothing familiar about the forest’s green eyes now. “He ventures further beneath my branches than any ever have, following the chain he forged between you. Is that how you fulfill your mandate?”
No. The Arcanum was terrified of the forest—with good reason. She’d seen what it could do. They weren’t supposed to follow her here. She was supposed to be safe.
But Jaxon had never let her go before. He’d come back from Elvanfal to claim her bond. He’d crossed the Shadowed Veil to take her back when Loren stole her away. Of course he’d chased her here.
“Wake up, little queen,” the forest commanded. “We will not wait forever.”
Araya started awake, cold sweat sticking the thin blanket to her skin.
“Ael’sura—” Loren’s face hovered in front of hers, his strong hands holding her by the shoulders. “It was a dream. You’re alright. You’re safe—”
But she wasn’t. She never had been. And now she was out of time—Araya felt the truth of the forest’s warning with every beat of her heart, pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“It’s the Arcanum,” she said. “There’s a scouting party coming. Right now.”
Loren frowned, his hands never stopping the slow, soothing strokes up and down her arms. “It was a nightmare, ael’sura. The Arcanum doesn’t send scouting parties this deep into the forest. You’re safe.”
“It wasn’t just a dream!” Araya twisted free of Loren’s grip, scrambling to pull on her tunic. “The forest warned me. I know how it sounds but it did.”
Loren’s expression tightened, but he only reached for her again. “Araya—”
“It wasn’t a dream!” Araya’s voice rose despite herself. Where were her breeches? Surely she’d thrown them right here—
A shrill whistle split the night.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Loren was on his feet, pulling on his boots and scooping his tunic off the floor.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said, buckling on his sword belt as a second whistle rang through the air. “You stay here. I’ll find out what’s going on—”
“It’s not nothing!” Araya grabbed her own boots, fumbling with the laces. “The forest told me—”
“Araya!” Loren snapped.
Araya flinched, the edge of command in Loren’s voice freezing her in her tracks even though there was no power behind the words. Loren saw it, the hard edge of frustration draining from his expression as he dropped to one knee in front of her.
“Please, ael’sura.” He cupped the back of her neck, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m begging you. Stay in this room.”
A shout rang out somewhere outside, followed by the unmistakable clash of metal against metal. Loren’s head snapped toward the sound, his shadows bristling around him as he surged to his feet.
“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Araya whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.
Loren winced. “Just stay here,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “Please. I need to know you’re safe.”
The door slammed shut behind him before Araya could untangle her thoughts enough to tell him she needed to know he was safe too.
Araya swallowed hard. All of Loren’s shadows had followed him except the little one—but it wasn’t so little now.
Its form shifted, growing and thickening until it pressed against her shoulder, comfortingly solid despite being made entirely of darkness and aether.
It would be easier for it to protect her if she did as Loren said and stayed here.
But she wasn’t the same scared child who would have traded anything for safety anymore.
Araya scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding as more shouts rose outside, the peace of the forest shattered by the clash of steel and the stench of iron and stolen magic. She grabbed the long knife Caela had given her, the hilt cold against her sweaty palm.
She was done waiting to be saved.