Chapter 6
LYRAE
“Commander. Thank you for coming so quickly.” Torin’s white, opaque eyes reflected the firelight like twin mirrors, staring straight through me, as if she could see until the end of time.
“Well, you know how it is. When the High Seer of Tempeste calls, you answer,” I said lightly, throwing myself into the other chair, letting the heat chase the chill from my bones. Hours standing up on the ramparts hadn’t cleared my head, and now all I had to show for my efforts was a runny nose.
“Tell me about Ryland Storme.”
“Ah, the direct approach. I like that about you, Torin. No small talk.”
“We don’t have time to waste, Lyrae. If Ryland’s a problem, I need to know now. We have too much riding on his involvement for this to fall apart, but if we must find another way to neutralize the Shadowlands, we’ll find it.”
“Storme’s not a problem,” I stared into the fire. “We have a past, but I can work with him.”
“You have to work with him, there’s a difference.”
“Torin, I’ve lived ten different lifetimes and been ten different people since I knew him. I’m no longer that wide eyed thief from the slums of Blackcastle. If he can get me into the Shadowlands to kill this prince, then he’s my best godsdamned friend in the world.”
I’m not your enemy, Lyrae. I never was.
Yeah, fuck you, Ryland Storme. And the horse you rode in on.
“And Varian…who is he to you?”
“Varian Kronos is nobody to me anymore. We grew up together in the streets of Southwell, poor little orphans who watched out for each other, and blah, blah blah, that’s the story of my sad, unhappy childhood.
” I shrugged and threw my boots up on the delicate little writing table by the fire, just to see Torin’s little frown of disapproval.
“Again, if Storme claims he needs Varian to get me across the border, then he does. We go in, get the job done, we’re home in a week. ”
And if I left their rotting carcasses beside the road on my way back, this world would be a brighter place.
“I had another vision last night,” Torin said abruptly, her words harsh against the silence of the room, the blood pounding in my ears. “Which is why I wanted to speak to you privately.”
“What did you see?” In one move, my feet were off the table, shoulders hunched, hands clasped together. “Did something else happen? Are we already too late?”
She pursed her lips. “Too late…on that, I could not tell. This vision was not so…bloody. What do you know of the Sylvane Triune?”
“The Crown, the Thorn and the Mirror.” I shrugged, counting off on my fingers. “Fairytales to frighten children and myths to bewitch treasure hunters. What of them?”
“I believe I saw them. Hidden in the heart of the Shadowlands. What if…” Torin stared into the fire, deep lines bracketing her mouth. “What if my vision isn’t about killing the prince, but reclaiming these lost artifacts?”
“I highly doubt three ancient artifacts are declaring war on Valarian. Those artifacts didn’t behead my men or erect an enormous protective ward. That prince is our real threat; let’s not lose sight of that.”
But my mind was racing so fast my thoughts tripped over themselves.
Could that be the real reason Ryland brought Varian along?
Because Varian Kronos, besides being the world’s biggest backstabber, was also one of the world’s savviest scavengers.
Like a dragon, he had a nose for treasure, complete disregard for the law, and a gray moral code that could overcome almost any obstacle when it came to getting his hands on the prize.
“What did you see, Torin?” Now, I couldn’t keep the sharpness from my tone. “You saw all three artifacts, or just this mysterious number three you keep talking about?”
“Just because your panties are twisted in a knot over some handsome male doesn’t mean you have to be smartass,” she sniped right back.
“I saw…what could have been the Thorn. And I definitely saw the Crown and the Mirror. They were housed in some sort of fortress on an island in the center of a frozen lake…or maybe a moat. Hard to tell, but there was definitely water. Frozen water.”
That revelation was dire enough for me to give her a pass on that snarky comment about my male problems, of which I had none.
“And just like that an assassination turns into an archeology expedition?” I held my hands closer to the fire, my fingers tingling as they began to thaw.
“Someone from the Shadowlands sent back my soldiers’ heads as a warning, Torin.
And what about the blood and destruction?
Dead forests?” I prodded as a thought hit me out of nowhere.
“What if…” I blew out a breath as that thought crystallized into something awful. “What if the artifacts are there? United together? What if they’ve become the destructive weapon the legend foretold?”
Fear took root almost immediately, like a tree growing roots.
I’d never believed much in folk tales. At best, they came from superstitious minds; at worst, they were tales cooked up as political propaganda to serve some nefarious purpose, but the Triune…that unholy trio was the next worst thing to the Old Gods.
Three Fae relics that, once united, could destroy the world.
Torin sat back, her satisfied smile unsettling. “Now you understand my concern. Both the kings and the Oracle spent a millennium searching for those artifacts, especially the Crown. Even alone, the Crown gives the wearer full dominion over all the Fae. Allegedly.”
“There is no proof they even exist. Neither king found any of them.”
“And thank the gods for that.”
“Let’s say the prince has all three artifacts.
He has Fae magic, of some dark sort, since Anaria released the magic three years ago.
He’s been amassing power, maybe an army, for all those years, while we’ve been focused on rebuilding Valarian.
Now he’s erected an impenetrable ward around his lands.
” I dragged my hands through my hair. “Fuck, I don’t like where this is heading. ”
“Yes, and how clever to let us do all the work rebuilding the world, then swoop in and take over, then claim Valarian for himself?”
“By burning everything to the ground?”
“By enslaving its people with blood magic,” Torin corrected me.
“By corrupting everything we’ve built. Like the two kings did.
Like the Oracle did. Anaria is the first good thing to happen to this world in a thousand years, and we are thriving under her rule.
But magic craves balance. Good and evil, light and dark. My vision is not a coincidence.”
“Spare me the balanced universe bullshit. Someone sent me the heads of my soldiers. I want theirs in return.” But that hard, kernel of fear made a reappearance, like a lodestone in my belly.
“Let me ask a different question, then, Lyrae. One I want you to answer truthfully.” Tension turned my shoulders rigid as her all-seeing gaze piercing straight through me. “Do you trust Ryland and Varian?”
“Let’s just say their word holds as much weight as a feather in a storm.” I shook my head. “But all they have to do is get me across the border. Once I’m inside, it will be a simple matter to locate my target. Anyone calling himself the Prince of Darkness isn’t keeping a low profile.”
No, I pictured him sitting on a throne in his castle, high on some mountain, lording—princing, maybe—over his unfortunate subjects. I stared into the flames, probably looking as somber as Torin.
No, he wouldn’t be hard to find at all.
“Then what?”
“Then I kill him, find the Triune, come home and be crowned a hero. I’ll expect a parade, by the way. Possibly my own castle. Then I’ll get back to my boring life of nine o’clock planning sessions and helping Anaria choose new drapes for the guest rooms.”
Gods help me.
“Well, the rooms did turn out quite nice,” Torin demurred. “But don’t make light of this. The world is at stake.”
“The world’s been at stake before.” Trite words meant to defuse the brewing unease, but they fell flat. “No, you’re right,” I agreed, wishing she wasn’t.
“This feels different, somehow. Three years ago, we knew who our enemies were, now…now I don’t even know if our enemy exists.”
“Oh, they exist,” she said softly. “But like you, I cannot see them. That godsdamned ward…even I cannot see through the haze. And neither can Cosimo. You have to get inside. Find this prince. See if he has the Triune. Because if we don’t…”
Her voice trailed off, and ice trickled through my veins, cemented by the hollow expression on her face. Like me, Torin stared into the fire, fingers silently drumming on the table.
But for the first time since I’d met her, Torin looked…hopeless.
This vision had shaken her, and she did not shake easily.
I dug my fingers into my thighs, struck by just how fragile the seer looked right now, and by the realization everything we’d built—a realm, a kingdom, an entire world—might fall to an enemy we couldn’t even fucking see.
When I met these people, they were my enemies.
And yes, it took time to realize I was fighting for the wrong side. But I trusted them now. The least I could do was play my part and remove this threat quickly and efficiently, instead of wallowing in my sad little history with Ryland and Varian.
“Go to the Shadowlands, find those artifacts and bring them back. Use any methods you deem necessary. If this prince is drawing his magic from them, cut off his source. If you get the opportunity to kill him…even better. But the artifacts are now our priority. Once they’re in our possession, we will lock them away so they can never be united again. ”
“You believe that’s what he’s done? Combined them into a weapon?”
“According to Cosimo, who has read every ancient text on the subject, once all three artifacts are bound together, their combined power bridges the primal forces of all magic, Fae, human and otherwise. The bearer could create or destroy entire realms, alter the fabric of time, or rewrite the laws of magic itself.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard the stories. Whoever unites these artifacts would be forever corrupted, their soul forsaken to the winds.” I rolled my eyes as I quoted something I’d once heard. “That much magic is too seductive for one person to resist, and eventually, the artifacts drive them to madness.”
“Well, at least you know the risks.”
“Wait.” I sat up. “How am I supposed to get them back without uniting them?”
The look she shot me was nothing short of sly. “That’s why there are three of you. You’ll each carry one item back to Tempeste, keeping them separate so their powers cannot combine. I trust you can manage that, commander?”
“I see you’ve had plenty of time to sort this all out,” I muttered. “How long have you known about the artifacts?”
“Long enough to work out possible risks, but this isn’t common knowledge, and we don’t need anyone to panic or decide now is a good time for a fortune hunting expedition. Once you’re inside the borders, the Triune is a need-to-know situation. Use your discretion.”
“You could have told me sooner, given me time to plan.”
Oh, she could have, but she didn’t. And I had to wonder why the Seer of Tempeste wanted me walking into the Shadowlands blind.
“I’m telling you now,” Torin said blandly.
“Find the prince, and do not kill him until you’ve ascertained the location of the Triune.
” I opened my mouth to argue and she held up a hand.
“I know you want blood for what he did to your soldiers, I know you want to eliminate the threat, but those artifacts present a bigger threat than one want-to-be tyrant. The artifacts first, revenge second.”
Blood boiling, hands fisted at my sides, I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming about a hundred foul things. This was complete and utter bullshit. The Triune wasn’t real. No one had ever seen it. A myth that only existed in nursery rhymes and fairytales.
And Torin’s visions, apparently.
The prince was real.
A living, mortal threat I could sink my sword into, over and over again. She’d seen blood? Well, I was more than willing to fulfill that part of her premonition.
“Zeph and Tristan will fly you out first thing in the morning, drop you three close to the border, then wait in Mysthaven for your call.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “And I’m supposed to what? Yell really loud so they can hear me?”
“You really are a pain in my ass, you know.” Torin tossed me a small glass globe, the size of a marble, strung on a gold chain. “Use this to speak to them, Zeph has the other one. Communication is instantaneous, so they’ll know immediately if you are in trouble.”
“Is this one of Cosimo’s inventions?” I peered at the tiny thing, a faint, ethereal glow illuminating the center, like an exploding star captured in glass. Not surprising, since Torin’s lover was the cleverest mage I’d ever met, and this magic was impressive.
“These are Bella’s doing, actually, created from witch magic. We use a larger version to speak to the northern covens, but she created a dozen of these smaller ones that can be transported. Speak, and Zeph and Tristan will hear you, word for word.”
“Was Storme really the best choice?” I asked, pocketing the small device. “There have to be a hundred trackers out there who could get me in and out.”
“There aren’t, and you know it. I had exactly two choices, and as you well know, one is now dead, so you’re stuck with Storme. Do try not to kill Storme, Lyrae, because he only had one condition for taking this job, and it was for the queen to ensure his safety.”
I snorted. “There are about a thousand ways we can die during this mission.” And trust me, I’m planning to make the most of them.
“From you, Lyrae.”
A smile played on Torin’s lips, like she was truly enjoying this.
“Let me make this clear. Storme only had one condition for taking this job, which was for Anaria to guarantee his and Varian Kronos’s safety from you. Our queen has given her word. Don’t you dare break it.”