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A direct line to the gods… so it was true. It was all real. Layala swallowed hard, nervous to know the answer but there was one thing she must know before anything else. “Where is Evalyn, the woman who raised me?”

“She is being held prisoner by the elf king, Tenebris, near the city of Doonafell.”

Shit. Varlett didn’t lie. Layala chewed on her lower lip, deciding if she could handle the truth of Ren being dead if she asked.

Thane spoke up, “Why was a Void created the last time this scepter and stone were used and not now?”

The golden female smiled. “Zaurahel Everhath was given what he deserved.”

“It is said that Layala can destroy the curse on our land, including the Void and the Black Mage—how?”

She smiled and little golden butterflies fluttered off her hand. “In part that is true. For the curse on your land and your people to be destroyed, you must bring the one you call the Black Mage out of the endless sleep. You must bring him back into reality, and she can do that.”

“Bring him back?” Thane balked. “No, that can’t be the answer. He can’t be allowed back.”

Was this a trick? And the endless sleep? Everyone assumed he was dead and gone with something holding him to the land, but he was here and—asleep? Layala’s mouth hung slightly ajar. To destroy him, she must bring him back? That made no sense whatsoever. “Why me?” she blurted out before the goddess could answer Thane.

The question she wanted to selfishly know more than anything else.

Her wide doe-like eyes shifted to Layala. “You can bring back the Black Mage because of the blood connection you share.” She turned to Thane. “And in order for the curse to be broken, he must live once again. The key is his heart.”

So Thane had been right. She was a descendant of the Black Mage, Maker, it made her sick to think she could be related to someone so cruel and hideous. “To kill him, right? In physical form. Stab him in the heart.”

The goddess looked away as if wondering what she may or may not say. “That would end him, yes. In his slumber state it’s impossible, and in his waking state, for a mortal, that would benearlyimpossible.”

That’s all she needed to know. She could pierce his heart, mortal or not. It was nearly impossible, not impossible.

Thane shifted slightly. “But she and I share the blood of the gods, and are you saying he’s not mortal?”

“Neither of you has embraced who you truly are. Much of your power lies dormant. And if he was immortal, a blade to the heart wouldn’t kill him, but he’s powerful and has grown even more so in his slumber.”

Layala hid and fought what she was for years, only using her magic when it was necessary. Hadn’t she wished she was someone else? Hadn’t she wanted to be rid of her power? And hadn’t Thane done the same? His own people didn’t even know what he was capable of—he didn’t even know.

There was no more hiding. No more running. She was the queen piece on this board, and it was time she put on her crown. “So, how do we wake him?”

Chapter39

Dragon wings lifted and lowered in great whooshes. Wind rushed past, whipping the hairs around Thane’s face like reeds in a storm. Throaty calls from dragon to dragon reverberated around them. He, Layala, and Piper rode in the air just above leafy green treetops, while below, five hundred Ravens rode on horseback beating the drums of war. Intel told Thane that his father waited for them with an elven army of three thousand five hundred near the border of the Void. And only the Maker knew how many pale ones lurked beyond the misty shadows inside. The Palenor soldiers knew Thane and the Ravens were coming and they would fight for who they believed was their rightful king.

Thane’s charcoal Raven armor hugged his body, trapping the heat from the sun, and his underclothes were damp despite the cool wind at this altitude. He’d imagined this scenario a hundred times in the past few days. The moment his Ravens would clash with their own. Nightmares still plagued his sleep; his father’s rotten corpse seemed to follow him even while awake now. Accusing him of murdering his own people.You became me. You are me. A bloody king.His father cackled pointing with a gray, decaying hand.

Hypocrite.

Murderer.

How could they have come to civil war? He swiped a hand over the back of his sweaty neck. And how many Ravens would he sentence to death going against his own father? They were vastly outnumbered even with the help of three dragons. Thane hoped their presence would be enough of a surprise to get his father to surrender before they lost half their fighters. Tenebris may be wicked, evil, but he wasn’t a fool, and they didn’t have weapons to break through dragon scales—the only problem was Thane didn’t want his own people slaughtered.

His eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep, but his body hummed with the adrenaline that rushed through him in anticipation of battle. Shining armor glinted; their numbers stretched in a row as if they stood guard of the Void itself.

“Take me to the ground,” Thane said. They were only a quarter of a mile away from meeting the enemy.

Vaper tucked his wings and the sudden drop tickled Thane’s stomach. They hit the ground in a spray of grass and dirt. Smoke shot out of Vaper’s nostrils like steam from a tea kettle.

“I’ll lead them from the ground not from the safety of the sky.” He glanced up to find Prince Ronan and Piper soaring by. A great roar echoed across the plain and brought chills to his skin. Prince Ronan and his two personal guards volunteered after the meeting with the Goddess of Wisdom, but that was all House Drakonan would spare. They still feared what the pale one curse might do.

“You’re a noble leader, Prince Thane,” Vaper’s raspy voice rumbled. Her massive head lifted a little higher, glossy bronze scales shimmered in the sunlight. “May the Maker bless your sword and may your arrows fly true.”

“Thank you.”