Chapter 21
The dark skies of night had swallowed me. An empty, never-ending blackness stretched as far as I could see, disrupted only by a ball of light floating before my eyes.
Familiarity whispered at the edges of my mind like wisps of smoke. I knew this scene, but from where, I couldn’t grasp.
The ball launched into motion, wrenching at the kernel in my chest with breath-stealing strength. I had no choice but to follow, lest my ribs crack under the force of its pull.
The pace was uncomfortable on my bare feet. Everything below my waist was swallowed by darkness, but I’d spent enough time trekking through wooded lands to know what lay beneath my feet. Twigs, rocks, and roots dug into my soles with every blind step.
A gnarled, scraggly shape emerged on my right, illuminated by the passing orb. A tree limb, green leaves dangling from its tip like teardrops. Wonder widened my eyes. It was nothing I hadn’t seen in Harthon’s garden, but still, it was an incredible sight to witness.
A similar branch appeared to my left, and another behind it, and then it was like I was walking a path through the woods—woods that were alive. But the heat in my chest felt tight, like it was stretched and strung out, waiting for relief that had yet to come.
Without warning, my toe rammed into something hard. Pain flared along my nail, and I scrambled to catch myself on my hands.
My ribs lurched before I fully recovered.
I gasped at the sudden pressure and looked up.
The ball of light had continued without me, increasing its pace.
The kernel in my chest tugged harder, yanking me to my feet and urging me into a clumsy jog.
Like a puppet pulled by a frantic master, I raced toward the light that kept moving faster, further, the parade of tree branches blurring into a haze of green—
The orb abruptly stopped. I slid to a halt, panting. It didn’t move again, even as my breaths evened and my frenzied pulse slowed. When I trusted this was no trick—that the light was, perhaps, taking a rest of its own—I let my gaze drift to the branch beside me.
Where I expected to see vibrant green leaves, there was…nothing.
Nothing but flaking, shriveled bark, gray in the glowing light.
The sight was a dagger to my belly, a visceral force that had me staggering back. I stared at it for another breath, and then I approached the limb, shaking fingers meeting its delicate flesh.
It was warm.
My fingertips trailed down its arm to the tip. There. I leaned closer. The curled, sooty tip was beginning to open, as if giving way to a bloom—
“Etarla, wake up. You’re going to be late.”
In an instant, I was off my back and on my knees, blankets tossed aside, fingers curled into fists.
Stefano’s wide blue eyes took me in with mild alarm. “You alright?”
I blinked as I sought my bearings, that darkness and haunting tree limb still occupying the edges of my vision. Stefano stood beside the bed in my borrowed bedroom, muted light filtering through the window.
Light.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly noon.”
“What?” If not for the light streaming across the blankets, I wouldn’t believe him. I never slept past dawn, except when I’d been wounded at the Citadel.
“Come on.” He tossed a hunk of bread at me. I caught it in a daze. “Aric’s event begins within half an hour. We can’t be late,” he said urgently.
Right. Harthon and I were to attend a gathering today—one that was a tradition in Sixth.
Scrambling out of the bed, I asked, “Did you get any more information on what to expect?” I glimpsed myself in the mirror and groaned. My hair was a rat’s nest, front strands sticking to the sweat lining my forehead.
“It has to do with his soldiers. That’s all I know.”
There was no time to dwell on what it might entail. Shoving the hunk of bread in my mouth, I set to getting ready as quickly as possible. Felda hadn’t packed many clothing options, so it was easy to select a violet tunic and black leather vest to cinch over it.
Habit had me tying the laces of the vest to the very top. When it was done, I paused. Eyed the expanse of skin beneath my collarbone. Watched the fabric move over my chest on a heavy breath.
I hastily undid the top three eyelets, so that the neckline sat as low as it had at the Conquering Day celebration.
Admiring my work in the mirror, I smiled.
* * *
Anticipation quickened my steps as Stefano, Joris and I followed a quadrant of silent guards through the Citadel’s maze-like hallways, which were oddly empty. By the time we reached the double doors of our destination, the only faces we’d passed were those of the occasional stoic soldier.
Before we were ushered inside, Stefano said, “A moment, magvis?”
Giving him a curious look, I nodded and stepped aside with him.
Leaning in, he murmured, “You know how Harthon told me to keep you away from Aric?”
Skies, I disliked that phrasing.
He nervously licked his lips. “I like you and I respect you. Clearly, there’s something messy going on there, not that it’s any of my business, even though I am stuck here observing it all—”
“Stefano,” I whispered, cutting off his rambling.
“Right. Um.” He cleared his throat, staring at the wall like it’d provide the right thing to say.
Shaking his head, he inhaled courage and blurted, “I’m loyal to you, Etarla.
But Harthon is my Princeps, and I’ve had my eye on a more senior position, even though I might be too young for it, which means I can’t afford any slip-ups, which means I need to do what he says, which means I would really appreciate your cooperation even though this situation between you two is messier than the stables after our horses came down with sickness two years ago—”
I sent a discreet elbow into his side.
His mouth snapped shut, blue eyes beseeching, and now it was my turn to search the wall for the words I needed.
The day we’d met, I’d put him in an impossible position, refusing food and endangering my well-being while he’d been assigned to my security.
Harthon had viewed it as a failure on his part and punished him, while I hadn’t even considered the consequences he’d face.
Apparently, I was lost in my own world, because over the last few days, I hadn’t thought once about how my situation with Harthon might affect him. Skies, I’d never even bothered to ask what his aspirations were. Our conversations were always about my duty, my training, my safety, my schedule…
Guilt flooded me.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, I reassured him, “Harthon only expects you to keep me away from Aric outside of our scheduled events. I promise you I will not seek Aric out on my own in any other circumstances.”
His face relaxed. “Thank you.”
“And for the record, whatever position it is you want, I’m certain it’s yours. You’ve more than earned it.”
He nodded halfheartedly. “Harthon has a lot of good men.”
“And you’re one of the best.”
Behind me, the doors cracked open. Joris sent us a waiting look. A chill snaked into the hallway, washing across the exposed skin at my chest.
A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. Why would that room be so cold?
A moment later, the thick wooden doors surged open and the draft became a plume of cool air that sucked any warmth from the space and the comfort right out of my body. I’d been expecting a meeting room—an opportunity to get my bearings and prepare myself for whatever this event entailed.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Because just beyond the threshold lay endless gray sky. And below that charcoal swath were hundreds of people, seated in quiet rows that curved inward and disappeared past the edges of the doorframe.
My lungs emptied, and I struggled to fill them.
What was this?
A thick leg stepped into view, followed by a black-clad body. Aric blinked at me. “Waiting for something?” he asked pleasantly.
Again, I tried to inhale. This time, I took in enough air to respond. “What’s going on?”
My eyes darted to the audience that formed a backdrop behind him. From here, I couldn’t make out their eyes, but if I could see their shapes, they could certainly see me.
And you’re just awkwardly standing here.
“Come out and see.” A wink followed his invitation. “Don’t worry. Your Princeps is here.”
I hated that I took comfort in that.
Forcing my limbs to move, I watched the rows of people grow longer as I hesitantly stepped through the entrance and my field of vision expanded. It was as if this were some sort of coliseum. A thick stone balustrade behind Aric prevented me from seeing the grounds in the center of it all.
“You’re a fascinating, beautiful sight. But they aren’t watching you,” Aric reassured.
I hardly heard him, too busy cataloguing my surroundings.
Where I stood was more of a covered terrace than a stage, a slanted stone ceiling shading us from what would have been sunlight decades ago.
The doors had deposited me at the side of the space.
To my right were a roaring firepit and three stepped rows of tall, upholstered chairs, clearly designed for nobility and esteemed guests.
A handful of people milled around them, including Torr and the man I couldn’t handle facing until my chest stopped feeling so suffocatingly tight.
With that noted, I dared to address the scene beyond the balustrade, and I realized that Aric hadn’t been comforting me with a lie. The people’s attention wasn’t on the terrace, but the ground before them.
My heartbeat quieted enough for me to make out the muted thud of collision, followed by the clank of metal on metal.
The familiar melody of battle.