THE VISION AND THE MISSIVE
Upon my return to Calledan, Auren met me at the doors of The Keep.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I really wish this mind connection worked both ways. It’s completely unfair that you can call out to me whenever you wish, but I can’t do it back to you.” She wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug.
“I missed you too,” I said, chuckling as I planted a kiss on her forehead.
The doors opened once more, and to my surprise, Aremis stepped out.
Auren, I’d expected, but Aremis . . . he was supposed to still be in Benmoor. If he was here, that meant something was wrong.
The seriousness in his face confirmed it.
“What is it?” I called out to my second.
Auren peeled away and looked up at me. “Oh! There’s an urgent message for you. It’s from Fallon.”
“Fallon?”
“Yes,” Aremis said, holding the door open for us. “He had a vision. Morah and I ported here a little more than an hour ago to tell you. Come.”
An anxious twinge began twisting in my gut as I followed them inside.
Morah stood waiting, wringing her hands together. “Hi,” she said, an air of urgency in her voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Not yet, at least. Fallon had a vision this morning.
It wasn’t complete, as his ability is still recuperating from the damage that was done, but it was unsettling enough that we thought we needed to tell you.
He saw the human queen standing above two bodies—one male, one female—both covered in blood.
He couldn’t make out their faces, but he saw the queen handing something to someone, and the bodies beneath her began to heal when she did.
He didn’t see what she was holding, only that a pair of pale, feminine hands accepted it. ”
Pale, feminine hands . . . Only one being came to mind.
Skadi.
I churned the other information over in my head.
The two bodies could be anyone. But male and female together, the symbolic meaning of that .
. . They had to mean something to each other.
As for what the queen was holding . . . If she was handing something to Skadi, it had to have been the amulet.
There was nothing else the goddess would want.
But the queen didn’t have the real amulet—that we knew of. If anything, the vision showed her handing off the decoy . . .
Which meant . . . I would need to give it to her.
“Did he say anything else about the vision? Did the queen look like she was in the midst of war?”
Morah shook her head. “That was all he saw. He even mediated on it for a while afterward to try and focus on the obscure object and the faces of the others. But still, nothing.”
I couldn’t verify out loud what I was assuming the queen had in her hands. If I did, Auren would know about the decoy, and so would Morah.
As if Aremis knew my dilemma, he flicked his eyes to me and held my stare.
Are you arriving at the same conclusion I am? I asked him.
Uh-huh. Need me to say something?
No. Neither of them know, and I want it to remain that way. If Fallon had seen the object, that would be a different story. But since he didn’t, it could be anything. Right now, I’m more concerned about the queen having the real amulet, and us not knowing about it.
There’s no way she could have it. She left the isles. She’s as good as dead to Torin. Why would she have it?
He was probably right, but I was still troubled by the thought. I needed to meet with the queen as soon as possible and make sure.
Let’s finish this, then you and I can talk privately, I said.
I blew out a breath. “Thank you for coming to tell us, Morah. I know you’re busy piecing together a court right now.”
“Of course. Fallon seemed bothered by it. We both thought it was best that you knew, sooner rather than later.”
“I’ll take the necessary precautions.” It was all I could say without setting everything up for further discussion and questioning. “How are things going, by the way?”
“Smoother than expected. Though, Ferhan is a real piece of work. I’ve nearly killed him three times now just for being an arrogant bastard and refusing to cooperate.”
I lifted a brow. “You have more restraint than me, then. I would have stabbed him in the heart with an iron blade and been done with it.”
“Trust me, if it weren’t for his knowledge about some of the wards and the magic that upholds them, I would gladly have rid the realm of his presence days ago. His time will come though.”
“I’m sure it will,” I said, trying my best to give her a genuine grin. “Are you staying, or headed back?”
“We need to return soon, but I could use a cup of coffee, or something with a lot of sugar.”
Auren reached out and grabbed her arm. “I can get you some of both!”
“While you two do that, I’m going to borrow Aremis for a moment,” I said. “If you need us, we’ll be in the war room.”
Aremis was right on my heels as I summoned Roirdan and Remic and headed toward the second floor of The Keep.
A headache was starting to build behind my eyes. I pressed my fingers to my temples, massaging rather harshly. The dark halls and flickering candlelight were a welcome reprieve.
I blamed my stress for the headache, but I knew the real cause was my power. The shadowfire was searching for a way out. A release. The stress of the recent weeks had only exacerbated it.
Shaking my head, I pushed back against the pain.
There was too much to be done right now.
Roirdan was already in the war room by the time we arrived. He was pacing, ready to receive his orders. Remic ported in a few minutes later, having come from the northern gate where he was checking in with our patrols.
After telling them about Fallon’s vision, I turned to Roirdan and said, “I’m sending Nivelle back to Neveshir to summon the Dionachs.”
He crossed his arms. “What does that have to do with—”
“I’m sending you with her.”
He straightened and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. There was a hint of interest in his eyes, but he tried to cover it up with an exaggerated scoff. “Why do I have to be the one to go with her?”
“Because you’re the one most suited to tolerate her,” I answered with a smug grin on my face. “And I need you to exercise that commanding strength of yours when it comes to the Dionachs. They’ll need someone to look to for orders.”
“I’m more than certain Nivelle could give the orders and they’d obey,” he muttered. Remic lifted his brows as if in agreement.
“Rem, I need you and Silas to remain with Auren and Aremis. I’m heading to Elandrew to try to meet with the queen. I want to figure out where she fits into all of this.”
“What about Killian?” Remic asked. “Getting into his court will prove near impossible now that you’ve publicly shamed him.”
I paused in thought, suddenly wondering if perhaps I hadn’t run across Breck in Drastia by chance . . .
“Don’t worry. I have a plan for that,” I said.
Auren would be less than pleased that I was leaving again, but time was of the essence, and I had a sinking feeling that all of us were running out of it.
After a quick port back to Drastia, and half an hour of convincing Breck to accompany me to Elandrew to be my liaison between the fae and the human realm, we materialized at the woodland gate.
I’d thrown a proper glamour over both of us, fully expecting Killian to be on the utmost alert with anyone arriving, but there was no pushback whatsoever. The gate didn’t even move. Breck stepped forward and pressed against the giant wood doors, only to find them swinging open without resistance.
No authority over the gate meant no authority over the court . . .
We swapped an anxious look, then he gripped my arm and we ported once more. This time, when we appeared, it was in the main atrium of The Woodland House.
An empty Woodland House.
“Something’s wrong,” Breck said, turning in place.
The throne was vacant. There was no one to be seen. The candles weren’t even lit.
“Follow me,” he ordered, making haste toward the open hallway.
We wound through the house, searching for any sign of life. No sentries, no court members, no house-fae.
Where had everyone gone? Where was Killian?
At the sound of a door quietly closing, we came to an abrupt stop. My shadows were instantly poised above my shoulders, ready to strike at whoever rounded the corner. Breck readied a hand on the hilt of his sword.
The delicate tinkling of tiny bells echoed toward us, just before Elspeth, the Elder, came into view, turning down the opposite end of the hall. Both mine and Breck’s shoulders relaxed, and I called out the Elder’s name. She whirled, startled by our presence.
She squinted through the dim, early-evening light, then upon recognizing me, she gasped. “High Lord? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.” I closed the distance to her. “What has happened here? Where is everyone?”
She shook her head with disappointment. “Lord Killian has vacated the court.”
Breck stepped forward, voice low. “When?”
“Not two days ago. I heard the news from one of my own who serves here. She said he was ranting about betrayal and spewing all kinds of threats at anyone who crossed him.”
I looked to Breck, who gave me a knowing glance back.
“Then he vanished. Used compulsion on his advisors and took them with him, so I was told. The court has been in an upheaval ever since.”
“Why are you here?” I asked, noting the herbs and bottles of strange tonics she had bundled in her arms.
“I came for some things that are hard to get in the everyday market. Killian likes to hoard all the stock and drive up the cost for the rest of us. It does no one any good if it just sits and rots away here.”
Breck nodded, working his jaw in contemplation. “Does anyone from his council still remain here in the house? Or have they all left?”
“There are a few, but they have kept to their quarters, afraid that Killian might return. He was always unpredictable, as you well know. Now, his absence has everyone even more on edge.”
I turned to Breck. “The army . . .”
“I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “I know.”