Chapter 7
A lora paced Aiden’s bedchamber with an air of amazement, listening to the scratch of year-weathered pages turning.
Now, surrounded by the woodsy, smoke aroma of the cabin and brisk scent of the sea, Alora’s fingers traced along shelves of weaponry and objects, wholly mesmerized.
When she had turned to the door, an array of items filled the shelves to either side. Alora had found herself drawn to them, walking forward to inspect the dusty shelves until footsteps behind her caused her to pull away from a glowing bottle of lilac and night-dark swirling liquid.
“Be careful with that one, love,” Aiden warned. “One drop and you’ll be sleeping until this day a year from now.” Smiling, he lifted the glass, rotating it. Forcing the liquid to combine and shimmer in a dark amethyst glow.
Alora hummed and pointed to another object. “What about that one?”
They turned to a short menacing blade. Its iron serrated as if dancing flames had been captured, perfectly frozen in time.
“Shadowsblade,” he drawled. “Find a creature or faerie and shove this into their shadow—let’s say, Thalon’s. Stab it with this. It’ll rip it away and control it against him to take you to any place he has been—or even have his shadow fight him in battle. Really quite something.”
Some sort of faeling excitement rippled through her. Alora scanned the shelves, asking, “Are all of these magic?”
Aiden bounced on his heels, unable to remain still. “Oh, yes.”
“Where did you get them all?”
“I have some very … special skills in item procurement. Elysian is full of many wonders, and I like to call myself a collector.” He winked and picked up a small golden compass pulsating with a bright red glow and two dials under the glass face. “Now this is a favorite of mine. The Compass of Beginnings. One arrow points toward the magnetic north, but the other…” He twisted the compass in his hand, watching the magnetic north dial spin slowly.
Aiden pulled open an empty compartment, continuing, “Fill this with something as simple as sand and this dial will point to its origin. A scrap of clothing belonging to someone, a piece of cheese, a drop of water. It’ll find its path back. And if you have that map”—gesturing to the one on the wall—“place the compass to it and it can charter the way.”
Alora smiled as she offered her palm.
He obliged her, dropping it in.
They hovered over it, watching the arrow remain perfectly still inside the glass when she asked, “Can we try it?”
Aiden’s grin cast wrinkles beside his eyes. “Play later. I haven’t created anything in this world. Nothing can be found.”
This world? Alora’s eyes snapped to him with a look of shock.
By the way Aiden’s lit up, he noticed her confusion. “Big ol’ Gray and Scary, his mother created this place long ago. It was only a world of the sea. She didn’t have time to do anything with it before…” A twist of sorrow contorted his expression. “Garrik remade the Cursed Sails, and Airathel gifted it to me as a home when my ship could no longer sail between realms. At first, you entered through a door at the castle. And then after … well, after Garrik returned to us, he moved it to my tent. Like Eldacar’s library, it goes wherever he tells it to go.”
Bits and pieces. It’s all she ever received of Garrik’s past. None of them gave more. Not even Garrik had spoken much of it. Other than inside the Dawnspace. Other than when his arms had been around her days before in her tent.
Alora shifted on tired feet. An uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine. “You knew High Queen Airathel?”
Seemingly colorless in their luster, Aiden’s sorrow-filled eyes drifted to the ship’s windows as if he were locked in a daydream. “I was one of the many blessed to have known her well. After one feisty redhead and I joined Garrik’s ranks, we moved into the castle. She loved us like Garrik. All of us. Perhaps that’s why she gifted this realm to me.”
Alora could only imagine a love like that. Loving strangers like they were her own faelings. Like they were family .
Ignoring a sudden ache in her chest, she placed her hand on Aiden’s shoulder and spoke softly. “She had the gift to create worlds?”
Wander captivated him. “Oh, yes. She made quite a few of them. Though perhaps worlds is the wrong term. More like chambers between time.” He held up his hand and waggled his fingers through the air, emphasizing one finger with a ring that appeared like the crash of the sea. “And this ring is a key to mine. Bonded to the wearer. You wouldn’t be able to use my ring unless he who created it allowed you to access its magic.”
“Yes, I’ve made objects like that before.” Alora smiled and pivoted her gaze to Jade, who lay with her ankles crossed on Aiden’s bed, reading the book on Soulstryker. On her finger, Alora’s starfire ring, which protected Jade from being burned, danced with sparks—stars—and flickers of flames inside a crystal shaped like a dragon’s claw.
“I did hear a tale about that.” Aiden grinned and nudged Alora with an elbow. “Thank you. She may never tell you exactly what it meant to her, but it was quite possibly the nicest gift she’s ever received.” And then she saw it. That softened gleam in his eye, staring at Jade. The way his feet shuffled. How his shoulders dropped. Even the subtle smile as his eyes raked from her boots to her fiery red hair.
The sound of Alora’s inhale stirred him. He turned to the shelf as she stifled the mischievous look in her eyes, but she said nothing. Aiden was close to touching an amulet, glowing turquoise with symbols and runes etched into the glass when he hissed, closed his fist tight, and pulled it to his body.
Alora about called out, but he rapidly shook his hand and swallowed hard, turning his eyes back to her. His face a work of carved stone.
The look in his eyes made her consider stepping back. “Are you okay?—”
“Old injury,” Aiden cut in. The stone of his face softened, and he wiggled his fingers before twisting the black scaled ring on his left middle finger. “All is well.” He turned and pulled open the door to his bedchamber. “But that’s enough show and tell for today. I need a drink! I have a four-century-old bottle below. You must try it.”
On bouncing steps, Aiden skipped down the hall and out onto the quarterdeck before bounding down the slick wooden staircase out of sight.
It still haunted her—Garrik’s mangled body. What he’d had to do to settle the debt of Zanayr and Nalani’s grandmother. Even as she and Thalon had walked the scorched streets of Alynthia’s lower class to that burned-out hovel, the memory of Garrik’s charred skin haunted her.
Thalon had built the pyre for Zanayr and Nalani’s grandmother. It was only when Alora’s starflames had ignited it that she realized what Garrik had meant in the forest.
There is not much time left. He’d meant the grandmother.
For as soon as Thalon’s portal had closed and they heard the broken sobs from the bedchamber, she knew.
And after the pyre burned to its last ember, sending her to the Stars Eternal, the four of them returned to camp, bound by Garrik and Zanayr’s deal. Though it would take Zanayr a lot more convincing of Garrik’s true intentions. Only time and action would heal that festering hate for the demon Elysian knew.
After all, it had for her. It had for everyone there. Eventually.
Alora sat in the dirt, leaning against one of the wooden pillars holding her High Prince’s tent up. Alone. The cool breeze tickled white locks across her face, and she tucked the strands behind her ear with a smile, remembering icy hands doing the same.
Can you hear me? she called out to him, hoping he was listening as she opened a door in the wall of flames, allowing him inside her mind. She’d been asking for the last hour. Each time, only silence answered.
Half expecting silence again, her body loosened when Garrik’s heavily muffled voice, far away, finally returned.
Missing me, clever girl?
Alora rolled her eyes and scoffed. In your dreams.
A strained laugh seeped beyond her wall of flames.
That usual uneasy sense he was keeping a burden locked deep inside his mind mingled with the tone of his voice. She crossed her ankles and leaned into the wooden beam. Somehow, she felt him there without needing to go inside his tent. Maybe he sensed her too… wherever he was. She hoped so.
I thought it was clear you wouldn’t go alone the next time you dawned somewhere?
A low hum. She could almost see that irritating smirk cross his face when he taunted, I knew you missed me.
I didn’t say that, mighty bastard. She smiled, hoping he could hear it in her voice.
Always so charming. Garrik sounded distracted, his voice quiet. Not because of the distance, but something … something was not right. Next time, he promised. I will return momentarily. Then you can tell me of all the places you have missed me. Riding Ghost. In your tent. The annulus… Your lips.
A healthy middle finger blasted through her mind, causing a deep laugh from him. I hate you.
I know. He laughed again. See you soon, darling.
He could not imagine ever being there again.
Walking across the frozen lake, staring up at the endless ice mountain that seemed to be made more of crystal than rock and snow.
Garrik willed darkness into his eyes despite feeling no amount of threat, blanketing his vision enough in whorls to shroud the sunlight that reflected off the mountain.
He wondered if he would have to climb it again. And how three years ago he had located this being . His duty a never-ending curse, Magnelis had dispatched him—only him—there in a plot of revenge.
A flash of light beamed directly in the middle of the lake. Perhaps the sun had flared. But he was not foolish enough to find that circumstance as true.
The being he had once sought out stepped from an orb of… Garrik never quite knew what that was.
Beauty far greater than this realm could ever fathom blessed his gaze as the being’s perfect hands clasped in front of moon-white robes only the Stars Eternal were rumored to fashion. The golden waves of his hair seemed too pure to dwell in this desolate wasteland they called Elysian. Even the air seemed to be an insult to that pristine porcelain skin and the purity behind his glowing opalescent eyes.
The temptation was there—to bow. But the sentiment would likely be laughable. How could he think he was worthy enough to fall before this divinity?
Firekeeper’s realm would not be far enough. Too unclean—too befouled and tainted and sinful—to even be standing in his presence… Again.
Before him, Destiny majestically, invitingly, smiled. “Tenderheart.” But that perfect face of love and peace and light fell, and the fire in his opal eyes softened to mournful grief. “I know why you have come.”
Garrik’s hands trembled, barely able to say the name. “Allseeah.”
“Tell me, son.”
His next breath was one of finality. “Allow me to take her place.”