Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
NISSA
After our discovery in the ancient archives, the next two days are filled with preparations for the coronation and mating ceremony.
Isolde insists on including me in all the event plans for the reception, forcing me to look over different types of food and experiences and decor that will emphasize the fire and earth elements coming together.
I spend hours at dress fittings and hair and makeup trials, waking up every morning in full dread that I won’t have answers before our birthdate.
Caspien has been noticeably absent during the planning. Which is a relief.
Cillian and I haven’t given up on answers though. We’ve split up, dividing the research while we wait to hear from the Scriptor. He’s continuing in the ancient archives, while I’m with Cyndr, sneaking away whenever I can to look through the ordinary histories.
Each hour that passes increases the pressure in my chest until I can barely breathe. I drag myself out of my bed and stare into the mirror at the dark circles under my eyes.
I’ve failed Nova. Even if we find Celyste before the coronation, that doesn’t tell me who killed Nova. There are just too many questions unanswered.
And on top of that, I’m about to abandon the Fae and this world.
I can only hope that I’m right, and they don’t need me.
Either way, by running, I’m ignoring an all-powerful goddess’s will.
The storms and destruction are proof of Gaia’s power.
And soon, that destructive power might be directed at punishing me.
A servant throws the bedroom door open and scurries inside with a tray. It’s the human girl from Nova’s study. “Happy day, your Highness. I have some fruit and tea to start off the morning.”
“I don’t believe I’ll be able to eat anything today, Dahlia.”
“At least have some tea.” She sits the tray on a table and begins pouring a cup despite my protest.
“I really don’t—”
She shoves a napkin into one of my hands and then stands there holding out the filled cup expectantly. Her eyes are wide with unspoken words.
I take the cup from her slowly. The napkin is, in fact, not a napkin but a folded note.
“I will leave you to get dressed, Princess. Unless you need assistance today?”
“Um, no. I’m okay. Thank you.” The instant she’s out the door, I discard the unwanted tea and unfold the note.
Lila,
I know you’ll be happy to learn I’ve located your long, lost friend.
I’m unsure whom you would want to share the joyous news with, so I felt it would be best to communicate it to you privately.
I’ve made arrangements for a brief meeting for the two of you tomorrow.
I believe you’ll need one final fitting with the seamstress.
Dahlia will come to get you in the morning and bring you to me.
Cillian has found Celyste.
Each time I reread the note, the smallest amount of pressure eases and I feel the tiniest spark of hope. Hope for what, I’m not entirely sure, but hope nonetheless.
The next morning, I’m up and dressed at sunrise after barely sleeping. I sit, bouncing my legs at the end of my bed unsure what else to do with myself. A light knock fills my room, and my heart jumps into my throat.
I hurry to the door and crack it open. It takes everything in me not to rush out the door the moment I see Dahlia.
“Princess Nissa,” Dahlia says, “I apologize for bothering you on your day of rest, but it’s time for your final fitting. The seamstress is waiting for you.”
“Yes, of course,” I say with a regal nod, playing my role.
I silently follow her down the halls until we’re in an older part of the castle.
The servants’ area isn’t kept up as well.
There is no art on the walls, and smaller doors line the narrow halls.
We make another turn, and she takes us down a thin, empty passageway that ends in a heavy door.
When she shoves it open, sunlight floods in from outside.
As my eyes adjust to the bright sun, Cillian is pushing off a castle wall. Dahlia gives him, then me, a quick nod and shuffles back inside with a wave and smile. The door slams shut behind her, and I flinch.
Cillian smirks at me with a silent laugh. “A little jumpy?”
“You found her?” I roll my eyes. I’m not in the mood for jokes.
“Yes, she isn’t a Scriptor. She was an upcoming priestess assisting Halcya at the time of our births. When the Royal Scriptor couldn’t leave my mother’s birthing room she volunteered to go record the Daughter of Gaia's birth in his absence.”
“So she is a priestess?” I consider the new information, “Makes sense that she would have knowledge of the prophecies.”
Cillian nods. “She was, but she left years ago. We should hurry,” he says, expression turning more serious. “We have a long trip ahead.”
I blink at him slowly a couple times. “Can’t you mistwalk us there?”
“To start, but we may have to do some searching for her. I don’t want to waste any time.”
I don't want to waste any time.
A shiver runs through me. The coronation is in three days.
I must not hide my reaction very well. His eyes soften, and he takes a step towards me, lifts a hand to my cheek. I lean into his warmth, into his comfort.
“I’ll do my best to get you answers before you leave” His words are barely a breath on the wind.
My eyes shoot to his in a panic. I move to take a step away, but he grabs my wrist. His grip is gentle but firm. When I pull, he drops his hold and enfolds me in his arms. Just like every time we touch, my magic is there, but it’s only a faint echo of the usual rush.
Even my magic showing caution at the potential risk.
“You don’t need to lie anymore. I’ve known since I saw you in Terrania after the memorial.”
I stare at the hard chest. When I don’t answer, he tips up my chin. I swallow and roll my shoulders back slightly. “I can’t marry Caspien.”
I tense in anticipation of his response. Did he even find Celyste? Is he going to tell them and lock me away until the coronation? His eyes search mine as I stare up at him in defiance, waiting on whatever he’s going to do.
He leans forward, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. “I know. And I’ll come with you. Wherever you go.”
My face goes slack. A breath later his lips firmly press into mine and the world around us explodes.
My magic responds faster than my mind. Every cell and fiber of my being feels like it’s been thrown into the deepest level of pleasure. A whimper works its way out of my chest. I can feel him everywhere, his hand presses into my lower back… another under my chin… moving into my hair.
When he angles my head, tugging my hair for more access, my mind finally catches up. I clutch his neck, going up on my toes to deepen the kiss. The ground shakes around us, and I open my mouth for him. A deafening rumble of thunder surrounds us, but all I hear is his moan as my tongue finds his.
He turns us, pushing me back into the warm stone of the castle. His hips find mine, and I feel how hard he is, pressing against me. Pulling back, breaking our kiss, he places his forehead to mine.
“Together,” he says through deep, heaving breaths. “We will leave here together…”
We both look up to the heavens as lightning strikes somewhere nearby. Thunder claps again, shaking the entire castle, and he curls around me. When the immediate threat quiets, we both peer up into a sky as dark as the day Nova died.
I swallow and look at him with wide eyes.
The dark sky brings some semblance of rational thought back to my brain.
“You can’t leave with me,” I argue, determined.
“I may be running from the Goddess the rest of my life. Hiding in another world, away from friends and family. She’ll be angry if her princess doesn’t marry the new king.
I don’t want that for you. You love this kingdom, this world.
You were born for it. You can’t go with me. ”
“I can go, Lila,” he grinds out through a clenched jaw. “Goddess be damned if she is mating you to him. You are mine. I’ll give up anything in this world to be with you.” He’s almost shouting into the storm, which is now pelting us with thick rainfall.
“Be quiet!” I swing my gaze around desperately, as if Gaia herself is about to show up and damn us on the spot. When no one appears out of thin air, the wind fills my lungs again. “You love the Fae. I would never ask you to abandon them. That isn’t who you are.”
“You didn’t ask, and the only Fae who matters is you. If you run, I’m coming—”
Thunder and lightning explode around us. A wooden wagon the servants use splinters only twenty twigs away from us.
“We can argue later.” He grabs me around the waist. “If we’re going to talk to Celyste, we need to go now.”
I shut my eyes, braced against the instantaneous heat and nausea that threaten from a mistwalk.
Just like before the air in the Aeronia is thick and suffocating. But with the storm is raging even some of the smoke has dissipated. The ground shakes with the rumble of thunder and it echoes through the cliffs nearby.
“What are we doing here?” I yell through the rain.
“Celyste isn’t in Castara,” he yells back over the noise of the world being ripped apart around us. “Niko found her seeking refuge in Pollara.”
My heart skips a beat as he tugs me towards a portal to the witch world. I realize that I’m in almost the exact same situation that Nova found herself in before she died—away from all Guardians, in an elemental land that isn’t my own. At one of the portals.
I freeze.
Cillian swings around. His hair is sticking to his face and rain drips from his chin.
His blue eyes shine back at me. “Do you trust me, Nissa? Because you’re the only Fae in this world that I trust completely.
Maybe that’s stupid since we’ve been separated for so long, but I know, I know in my soul, in my mind, in my magic, in my heart, that I can trust you.
So even if you have only the tiniest feeling that you can trust me, I ask that you do it, right now.
Trust me. I’m taking you to Celyste. Let’s just pray she has the answers you need. ”
I swallow the last of my fears, because he’s right. I still need answers. And the one thing I know for certain is that I can trust Cillian. I’ve always known that we were connected somehow. That he would protect me at all costs.
So, I give him the smallest nod. I’m not even sure he sees it through the rain, because we are already racing for the witch portal together.
Hand in hand, we step through. The immediate feeling of weightlessness carries us as we fall through space.
Red gas wraps around us, hiding anything that exists outside of our connected bodies.
My pulse picks up as the fall goes on longer than I expect, but when I look into his eyes, a sense of peace fills me.
At least it does until we find ourselves in a world that I don’t recognize, with a storm still raging around us.
We look at each other. What are the odds that the Goddess has sent her storm across worlds? The gods are supposed to have an agreement—to leave the other worlds to the god who created them. For the storm to follow us across portals could mean that Gaia is defying that to chase me.
No matter where I run, that we run, we may never get away from her.
I try to push the thought away as Cillian grabs me around the waist. Kissing the side of my head, he mistwalks us again.
This time we land near a cream-colored stone cottage set in a dark green forest. The vine-covered roof is thick with twining leaves dotted with budding pink flowers. The windows look dark, but we proceed hand in hand up a rock path inset into the mossy ground.
An invisible barrier halts our progress. Cillian reaches out, probing, running his fingers along the blocking magic. I place my free hand against what feels like a solid, cool breeze. It tickles my palm, and then my hand easily pushes through. It’s as if someone suddenly unlocked a door.
We look around to see if there’s anyone around but it is hard to see through the pouring rain.
On alert, we approach the front door. Cillian shields me behind him, then knocks.
There’s movement inside, and the door pulls open.
A stunning silver-haired female Fae in a white robe dress stands just inside.
Her eyes widen, and she tries to shove the door closed.