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Stepping away from the paddock, my heart carries a new kind of strength, borrowed from the dragons’ silent solidarity.

I weave through the palace corridors. Leesa may not be in a state of mind to search the archives for the answers we need, but I am. And there is one more name to add to our research list.

In my vision of Queen Aero at the Lost City, she spoke of a man she called Nick. The familiar way she used his name made it seem as if he was a friend or casual acquaintance. I know for a fact there are no mentions of a man by that name inThe Chronicles of the Mother Wurm.

Then again, that book was written by Aero’s daughter, not the queen herself.

If he was a casual friend and not a noble or advisor, I might be able to find him in the kingdom’s census records. And considering she said he could hear anything said, he would certainly have been a notable figure in history books.

A hint of an idea teases the back of my mind but vanishes again before materializing.

Up ahead, the dowager queen, regal even in her somber attire, glides down the hall. Her presence is a stark reminder of the weight that crowns carry, the secrets they must keep. A little bit of the hollowness in my heart fills when I recall her kindness yesterday and the prayers she spoke on my mother’s behalf.

The niggle returns. Prayers…

Soft footsteps hurry down the hall behind me. The pretty maid who attended me the other day reaches my side. She pauses and dips her chin. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Lady Lark. May you find solace in your many good memories and let them tide you over until you both meet again.”

She scurries off, while I stop moving.

Solace. The same word the queen used yesterday when she prayed.

Solace in the darkness…

Queen Aero’s and her companion, Vincent Akehust’s, statements echo in my head.

“Nick told me the only way to end the corruption is with phoenix tears. I must gather those.”

“But can we trust words delivered that way? Please, my queen, think this through. At the very least, ask for guidance from a priest first.”

“Careful, Lord Akehurst. You know Nick can hear a whisper even from the deepest shadows.”

Words delivered that way. Priest. Hearing a whisper from even the deepest shadows.

The realization injects my body with a dose of elation. The truth is so obvious, I wonder how we missed it.

Queen Aero wasn’t referring to a man at all, but a goddess. The goddess of darkness and night.

Nyc.

The being capable of reaching into every shadow and listening to the murmurs of the world.

The relaxed way Aero referenced Nyc speaking with her is probably what threw us for a loop, but I know I’m right.

Even if the idea of a deity entwined in human affairs terrifies me and threatens to reshape everything I ever believed about humans and the gods.

ChapterSeventeen

A shiver slinks down my spine the following morning, not from the chill of the overcast day but from the weight of grief that presses upon my shoulders like an unrelenting storm.

Mother’s ceremony is small and private, no big fanfare or gathering for a noble from another kingdom.

The lush garden around us, bursting with vibrant blooms and verdant foliage, is a stark contrast to the somber mood that hangs like a suffocating shroud over the small private courtyard within the palace of Tirene.

In my stillness, my feet have become rooted to the ground. My shaking hands clench the fabric of my white dress. The delicate mourning veil flutters slightly with each gust of wind, along with the lock of hair at my temple not pulled back into a tight braid.

Beside me, Leesa’s adorned in a nearly identical style. Her presence is a warm and reassuring touch against my left side, while Sterling, always the pillar of strength, stands at attention by my right. His elbow grazing mine has been our only contact during the ceremony.

On the other side of my sister, Bastian offers quiet support, his eyes reflecting a shared sorrow.