37. Keira
“ I t would make sense for us to go our separate ways.” I fasten the buckles on Aldrin’s armor, slowly moving down his chest and avoiding his eyes. “To cover the ground quicker, if what you say is true, and I can send out the royal compulsion to vote just as you can.”
“No fucking way.” He uses a single finger to tip my chin up, forcing me to look at him. I catch his face falling. “I don’t care about sense, Keira. I can’t let you go. I need you in my arms for this. To hold on to you and know that Titania hasn’t torn you away again.”
“You will know through the mate bond.” My voice breaks.
“I need this like I need air. We ride together,” he demands, and I cannot deny him.
He helps me don my armor, not the signature piece we had crafted for me that is now somewhere in the palace, but whatever bits and pieces we could borrow from the female warriors fighting for us. I glamour it as best I can, making the metal panels shiny and new, with many gold embellishments.
When we step out into the tavern’s rooftop garden, only a hint of dawn bleeds an orange glow across the sky.
Ezekiel’s familiar form glides through it, approaching us.
The warm light glitters across the white-and-gold scales of the dragon’s back and the ground trembles as his huge form lands before us.
He throws his wings up wide, stretching them while the sun illuminates every bone and vein in a radiant glow, as though his very flesh is on fire.
He yawns deeply, putting on display row after row of pearly white teeth each almost as long as my forearm, while he whips his tail around and digs his claws into the stone, leaving long channels in it.
He is preening, that much is for sure. It doesn’t change the fact that he is absolutely majestic.
Fucking show-off, Aldrin growls in my head, but his voice is threaded with amusement.
A show-off that we desperately need, so if he wants us to grovel, we grovel, I chide. We both know he and his clan are in this city just as much for their entertainment as they are for any loyalty to you.
Aldrin grunts at that, but we have both seen it: dragons descending on columns of Truth Templars in the night, and instead of killing them efficiently, playing with their food. Bodies tossed in the air. Enemies made to run and scatter so they can have the pleasure of hunting them down.
The dragons remind me of cats from the human realm, as beautiful as they are sardonic. At least I could never be on the menu for a kitten.
Ezekiel finally cranes his long neck around to look at us. Aldrin, you never told me your people were so…tasty. He chuffs, like he told a hilarious joke.
My stomach rolls at the thought.
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Aldrin’s eyebrows furrow. “We need to leave as soon as possible?—”
You want to leave the city when we are having so much fun here?
Why not stay and butcher your way into the palace?
Make those stairs run red with the blood of your enemies.
Use our fire, ice and poison to make them hurt.
Then no others would dare take your throne.
Ezekiel is manic with glee at the prospect.
“We have discussed this,” Aldrin snaps. “You know why I cannot fight my way into the palace.”
Patience, I send to Aldrin’s mind. You know the dragons like to play games. But I feel it too. We cannot lose even a moment of time here, arguing over something that has already been negotiated.
Because the tyrant will take your mate. The dragon tips his head to the side, considering deeply. Dragons also mate for life, and there is nothing they value more than their family, not even the thrill of violence. Then we fly and turn the entire court against her.
We climb Ezekiel’s tail and mount his back with quick efficiency, settling down together between the ivory spines of his shoulder blades.
Aldrin wraps his arms around my middle, weaving ropes of air to hold us in our seat.
With powerful beats of the dragon’s wings, we are lifted off the balcony and into a sky quickly turning pink.
Relief floods me that the bargain doesn’t stop me undertaking this mission.
I wasn’t completely sure it wouldn’t drag me back under the clause of not causing Titania harm, but I am calling an election, not a rebellion set on removing her head from her shoulders.
I keep my intention to eventually return to the palace and my captivity firmly within mind, and it stops the drag of the magic from urging me back.
The entire City of Vertical Gardens shrinks beneath us.
The sight is breathtaking.
The sharp, decorative angles of the buildings with peaks and spires and delicately arching bridges spanning between them are surreal when glimpsed all together.
The thousands of balconies with greenery draping from them reaching up those mountainous structures; the huge trees with floral canopies branching over great heights.
The many azure streams and waterfalls glittering vibrantly as they crisscross over the entire city.
The beauty of the capital is not something I could have imagined before coming here, even in my wildest dreams.
It is clear the city is in turmoil. Far too many streets are clogged with the silhouettes of tiny bodies thrashing and fighting. Others have been cleared out where the battle has moved on, but the stain of spilled blood is evidence of the violence that has unfolded there.
We leave the City of Vertical Gardens, flying high above the meadows surrounding it, awash with a rainbow of spring wildflowers and hundreds of moonstone portals. Then we pass over thick canopies of dense forest.
I open myself up completely to Aldrin, the bond between us sparking brightly and bringing our souls so closely aligned that they almost feel as one.
There is a deep intimacy in this, as our minds fuse, our bodies become tightly attuned to each other, and our reservoirs of raw magic meld so he can take just as much from mine as his own.
Aldrin’s fingers tighten around my hips as his heart hammers so hard I can feel it against my back.
Every muscle in his body is incredibly tight, his mind anticipating every way this call to vote can go wrong.
I force my own calm certainty into him, making it unclench each knot in his body, because surely the gods will be on our side this time.
Perhaps it is easier to have blind hope when I risk myself and not the man I love.
Aldrin pulls on that royal magic, infusing my power with his, and sends out a blanket command that spreads for miles and miles from the point we pass over. One that forces each fae of this court to partake in the vote for who will rule: us or Titania.
One by one, they are bound to vote by sunset.
It is incredibly humbling, being connected to all these people, even for a heartbeat of time. Feeling not only their presence, but their shocked reactions to our call.
There is no time for politics. None to convince these fae of the wilds and countryside that we are the better rulers.
That Titania will only bring ruination. We will have the votes of the low fae of the wilds, especially those who suffer from neglect, but their numbers are far fewer than the high fae. The rest is out of our hands.
Aldrin’s grip on me becomes tighter the longer we work, his arms becoming two iron bands around my waist, terrified to let me go. I grip his thighs, nestling my head into his chest while he places his chin on top of it.
Sweat coats both of us, and his heart rate never settles. There is so much fear between us, but we do not speak of it.
We pass over a jagged, rocky mountainscape that holds multiple perfectly circular pools of deep blue water.
Each one is the size of a castle, located on a different tier and feeding into each other through waterfalls.
Every single basin has its own Lake Maiden, an abundance of nymphs and large sentient water sprites.
In a not-too-distant valley, there is a bone-white city full of domes and arches.
It is small compared to the capital, but thousands of high fae live there.
All are called to vote.
We leave out none, including those from places where they are unlikely to favor us. To exclude them would be to invalidate the election.
We move on and on, while the sun rises, hits its peak in the sky, then moves down toward the horizon again.
Over an immense manor house with a bell tower surrounded by acres of rose gardens filled with flower nymphs.
Through a jungle with widely spaced trees as tall as Appleshield Castle, with townships of fae built right into trunks and canopies, many of the treehouses hanging over dizzying drops.
We pass over a city built right over the precipice where a colossal river crashes down in a violent mile of continuous waterfall into the sea, with many wheels spinning in the torrent to generate energy.
All are snared in our royal compulsion. Even the towns and cities that threw fruit at me when I first arrived in this court.
“I wanted you to see all of our court, but not like this.” Aldrin’s voice vibrates through my body pressed up against his chest. I know what he means. Not with the threat of impending doom hanging over us. Not so briefly, without a chance to take it all in.
I rub my hand up and down his thigh soothingly. “When we take the throne, we will visit every part of the Spring Court. We have so much work to do.”
“I look forward to it.” He kisses my neck.
I turn to Aldrin in my seat, stomach lurching as Ezekiel suddenly banks left. “Are you ready for the most dangerous part, Aldrin? To return to the capital?”
He groans. “Can’t we just skip them? That place is a fucking nightmare.”
“Not if we want to appease our supporters and have concrete evidence against any who are indoctrinated by Titania. You know she will say the election was tampered with and false. We cannot give her anything to work with.”