39. Willow
Chapter 39
Willow
F rost crunches beneath our feet as we trudge toward the Nexus on this bitter Moonsday morning. Our breath clouds the air, a visible reminder of the biting cold. Geraldine and Max lead the way, nearly at the rope bridge, while Bodin stalks beside me.
As usual, panic knots my stomach the closer we come to the rope bridge. Last week, the moat river water wasn’t quite frozen. I watch Geraldine and Max start crossing the rickety bridge, terror gripping me as they navigate such a treacherous path.
Fox saved me last time because he had full access to his powers. If I fall now and crash into the ice . . . no one will save me. I’ll be dead, gone.
“Willow!” Geraldine shouts from the middle of the bridge. “It’s frozen again! Look!”
I take a hesitant step forward, and some of the tension holding me captive releases. The moat’s solid ice again. But once the fear enters, it’s hard to eliminate. One look from me is all the excuse Bodin needs to gather me into his arms and murmur into my ear, “People can die from anything—at the hands of someone they trust, from someone they love. You can’t live your life worrying about accidents crossing a bridge.”
“Rory didn’t die by accident,” I answer, a lump forming in my throat. “She died to save me.”
His hand slides behind my neck, warm and large, guiding my gaze back to his. “It sounds like she cared for you a lot.”
A memory flashes: Rory and I stare at the stars, our feet dangling outside the window in her high-level tower room. The smell of a diesel-soaked city wasn’t so bad up there. We could almost imagine we were in another world.
“Apparently,” she says, pointing to a star. “You can wish on those if you’re lucky enough to see one fall.”
“What would you wish for?”
She gives me a wry smile. “You first.”
“Um.” I gaze into the night, knowing my family is down there, refusing to let me come home. “I wish I can be a falling star . . . then maybe—“ Maybe I’ll be wanted. Lovable. Everyone will hunt nightly for a glimpse of me in the sky.
It hurts too much to voice. I dash a tear from my eye.
“Maybe what?” Rory prods her shoulder into mine.
“You’ll just say I’m being emotional.”
We sit silently for a while before she says in a small voice, “I’m not always right, Willow.” Her arm slings around my shoulders, drawing me under her wing. She kisses the top of my head. “Sometimes, you need to listen to your gut.”
“Hurry up, you two!” Max shouts out from the other side of the bridge. “Get it out of your system now because once we’re there, no public displays of affection!”
“He’s right, you know,” Bodin murmurs, reluctantly letting go of me and stepping away.
“Can’t anyone know?” I ask, frustration bubbling up inside me. “The idea of hiding how I feel for you is . . . maddening.”
His expression darkens. “It’s against the code. The consequences . . .” He trails off, his jaw clenching.
I blow a raspberry. “That’s what I think of the code.”
“Being facetious will get you turned to stone,” he warns. “And that’s only before Titania returns. Her punishments are far crueler.”
“Fine,” I concede, a chill running through me at the thought of being cursed again. “I’ll be good.”
But even as I say it, I feel a spark of defiance. I’m tired of hiding, of conforming to rules that don’t make sense. Fox’s sacrifice set my confidence back, but it didn’t break me. It made me more determined.
If I’m going to lead and protect, I need to start questioning these outdated laws. The thought both thrills and terrifies me.
Bodin takes my hand, puts it on the rope railing, takes my other hand, and puts it on the other side. Then he moves to stand behind me, palms on my hips.
“Let’s walk,” he says, his touch both reassuring and electrifying.
I’m so conscious of the heat of his hands on my body that we make it halfway across the rope bridge before I realize how far we’ve come. When we arrive at the end, I turn to him and smile. “That earned you one night in my bed.”
His brief arrogance is swiftly replaced by shrewd opportunity. “Let’s cross again.”
My smile explodes into laughter.
Our first class for the day is in the House of Stone Tower. It’s meant to be tactical warfare, but a little thrill skips in my stomach when I see Legion and the Earl alongside him—still no Colin. Before I take a seat, I turn to Bodin. “Since Legion is here, will you do me a favor and look for Colin?”
The concern flashing in his eyes is directed at me, not the missing boy, but he nods. My smile warms, rushing through me. He inhales deeply, taking in my scent. I can tell he doesn’t want to leave.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
“If I’m not back when class ends, stay with Geraldine and Max until I arrive.”
I sit in the front row beside my friends. Across the room, I recognize a few familiar faces: Corey, the new House of Stone Shadow. Beside him sit Alfie and Dahlia.
Legion walks to the center of the room, looking every bit the leader, even with the spectacles. Somehow, they make him look sharper. Behind him, Earl Larkspur is securing a map to the wall. When they place pins in specific locations, I realize what’s happening.
“I saw this map,” I whisper to Geraldine. “In Legion’s study.”
“And?” she replies, brow rising.
“The pins mark recent Nightmare sightings around Avorlorna.”
Before I finish my sentence, the Earl stands beside Legion, commanding the room’s attention.
“Instead of the usual drivel they’ve given us, the Knight Commander and I have decided to give you something useful, something real.”
Murmurs rise like the tide. Legion raises his hand. Everyone hushes. His aura commands the room, even with his true demigod self sealed.
He asks, “Who can tell us what’s meant to happen to the watergates during the Gentle Interlude?”
Multiple hands raise in the air. He points to a random person I’ve never met—a female with dark hair and green eyes. “Yes, you,” he says.
“They’re meant to be frozen,” she replies.
Legion gives a curt nod. “Now, who can tell us why?”
No one responds for a moment. Then, another puts up their hand. “To stop the nightmares coming through, of course.”
Legion’s stare hardens at the mocking tone, and the exhibitor looks at his feet, a blush staining his cheeks.
“Yes, they’re meant to be frozen,” the Earl says, then points to the pins on various points across Avorlorna. “So these are?—”
A hushed whisper catches my attention, drowning out the reply. Two students behind me gossip, their voices low.
“Did you see how haggard the Earl looks?” one murmurs.
“I heard it’s because of his wife,” the other replies. “Apparently, she was a Never.”
My breath catches. I strain to hear more, my heart pounding.
“What happened?”
“They were caught. She’s exiled to the Cabinet. They stripped him of magic for a year. He hasn’t been the same since.”
The weight of their words settles heavily in my chest. I glance at Legion, wondering if he heard. His jaw is clenched, eyes fixed firmly forward. But there’s a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before.
The Earl’s voice cuts through my racing thoughts. “These pins represent Nightmare sightings and known locations of watergates. Now, who can tell me what’s wrong with this picture?”
I force myself to focus, but the implications of what I’ve just heard linger. Bodin warned me not to be facetious about showing public affection to them, but I didn’t think the consequences would be this bad.
“Nothing. That’s normal.” Alfie dismissively tosses his hand at the map. “In fact, it’s not much at all compared to last year.” A smug look crosses his features. He addresses the rest of the room and boasts, “I’ve served for multiple years. I’d know.”
“Unless . . .” Geraldine starts. Everyone looks at her, and she lifts her chin. “Unless they’re sightings from after the Gentle Interlude started, not before. Then it wouldn’t be normal. It would be worse.”
Legion smiles at her. “Correct.”
The Earl steps forward. “You’ll notice most activity is concentrated outside the cities . . . where it’s barely snowing, if at all. The queen’s slumber should expand the Holly King’s power across the land for the entire Interlude. Now, he can hardly hold the cities in his icy grip.”
A chill runs down my spine as the implications sink in. The watergates should be completely frozen by now, but Nightmares are still getting through. Is this the same thawing occurring in Elphyne over the past few hundred years? The only problem with that theory is that the Well flourishing there is the reason why.
“What does the Earl’s revelation tell you?” Legion prompts the class.
“It tells me someone isn’t doing his job,” Alfie sneers.
My fists clench. I can’t believe he has the nerve. Legion is one of the highest-ranked Radiants in Avorlorna. The Alfie I knew did anything for Nero’s approval, but he now seems to have little respect for leadership. I look at him across the room and see a stranger.
My mind travels to the wisps Titania kept in jars in the temple and how they’re now gone.
“It tells us,” I shout. “That something is wrong with the magic keeping the gates frozen.”
The Earl gestures to the map again. “These are the Nightmare sightings since the start of this year’s Gentle Interlude.” He plugs in many pins around the Nexus, but even more around the city of Heliodor. “These are the nightmare sightings since two days ago.”
They’ve doubled.
“Titania’s magical slumber is failing,” someone mutters.
“War is returning faster than we expected,” the Earl admits. “We can no longer afford for you to remain inside these protected walls while Avorlornians are dying.”
“What are you saying?” Alfie asks, eyes shrewd. “That you’re canceling the exhibition?”
“I’m saying,” the Earl replies, “there might not be an Avorlorna if we don’t do something now.”
Gasps ricochet off the curved walls.
“For the following week,” Legion announces, “the exhibitors will take a pilgrimage into Heliodor—the House of Stone’s home territory. Goodfellow refuses to release the Baleful Hunt to patrol the area, so the exhibitors must do it instead. Return to your towers, pack your belongings for a long, cold journey, and reconvene here at noon.”
Alfie starts to protest, as does Dahlia, but Legion silences them all with a dark, unbending gaze that scares even me.
“You will be traveling in small groups,” he continues. “Each will have a Radiant taking point. Every dragon-bonded member of the Shining Host will be with us. Your mission is to scout and nothing further. You report to your leader what Nightmares you’ve seen, if any, and where. We aim to send more experienced soldiers to track the terrors back to their watergate. Do not engage the monster, but if you’re discovered, use your knowledge from the Nightmare Codexto exploit the terror’s weaknesses and escape. We wish you to remain alive and return with this vital information. Is that understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” repeats around the room.
“During the expedition,” the Earl adds, “we are not guarding your dreams. Hence, you will face rogue dreamscapes from your fellow exhibitors. This is the perfect opportunity to receive schooling on tactics for evading or escaping them in preparation for the trials . . . or if war comes sooner than planned.”
The acrid scent of fear starts to build in my nostrils. I look upon the sea of faces, draining of blood. It makes me sick to my gut that we’ve been spending this time lulled into some kind of false sense of security, content to spend our time partying, having fun, smiling. No one’s smiling now. War is not glamorous. It could be here before Titania wakes. Before the trials and the Interlude ends. And we’re woefully underprepared.