Page 62 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Still, he gripped the handle of his weapon tightly and moved through the forest floor with careful precision.

Every hair on his body was raised, and his heart beat unnaturally quick.

He typically had a good sense of self; his gut feeling was usually right.

Whenever his body reacted to something this strongly, he could not ignore it.

Especially not when his kingdom stood tall just a few miles away, and his people rested soundly within it.

Kneeling, Kayson set his blade beside him and pulled off one of his leather gloves. He rested his open palm against the earth, then spread his fingers into the first layer of dirt. Much like a beating heart, the Earthbender felt the ground pulse.

It fell in step with his own heart, thumping loud enough to rattle his ears. He dug his hand deeper, opening his ears wider—listening for any movement nearby that would make a thud against the pulse.

Four stomps. Soft, as if the creature or person was walking normally, but hard like they were massive. Their movements were loud no matter how they moved. Kayson swallowed and pulled back his hand.

A wave of sickness rolled through him as his power lost connection with the earth’s beating heart.

He swallowed the unease in his throat and stood, slowly turning toward the source of the sound echoing from the ground.

He grabbed his scythe, gripping tightly.

Kayson brought the handle up over his shoulder, letting its weight fall onto his back, while he ran a hand along the sharpened point that hung at his hip.

He did not know what lurked closer, but he did not like unwanted beings on his land. Not when he had an obligation to protect every individual sleeping inside his wards.

The valley grew still besides the ever-falling rain. The wind seemed to die down, thunder ceased, and even nature settled.

All he could hear was his heart, the footsteps, and the rain.

And then, he heard nothing at all.

Kayson grabbed his scythe and whipped it in front of him at the exact moment a beast broke through the lining of trees. It was all snarls and sharp claws reaching for him, unfazed by the initial swing of his blade.

He blinked in shock at the beast that was no longer a bear.

Its face was stripped of skin and fur, leaving only a white skull.

The sockets were eyeless, the nose missing, but the mouth was full of glistening, sharpened fangs.

It raised a massive paw to the weapon, not minding at all when its flesh tore.

Black blood sprayed as skin split, filling the air with the most horrific scent Kayson had ever encountered. He brought his arm to his nose, doing his best to mask the stench of rotten blood as his scythe fell to the ground.

The bear stood double Kayson’s height as it reared back onto its hind legs, releasing a guttural scream that echoed to the Realms. He quickly clamped his hands over his sensitive ears, muffling the roars that rattled his brain.

After the bear realized it had immobilized Kayson, the beast launched at him.

He quickly recovered, thrusting his open palms toward the creature.

Rocks from the ground flew at it, slamming into the beast and driving it hard into the earth.

Though it did not seem to injure the rotting animal, it bought him enough time to grab his weapon.

Kayson sprinted toward the cliff’s edge, pushing his body with every ounce of strength. Behind him, the bear tore through the trees, roaring and screeching as he pulled farther away. He had always been grateful for the speed and swiftness of the Fae—this was certainly one of those times.

A million thoughts raced through his mind as he ducked beneath branches and soared over small gatherings of rock.

Bears lived all over Vlazias, predominantly near House Zaleria.

But this was no ordinary animal; it was something only a continent plague could muster.

Something too rotten to the core to be naturally made.

The bear roared again, closer than Kayson had realized. Before he knew it, the creature snapped a claw at his boots, tearing viciously through the dirt.

Kayson slid to the ground and thrust his hands into the earth, willing his power to burst through the veins of the forest floor.

The ground rumbled and swayed, making the creature lose its footing and stumble over its gigantic paws.

The bear was on its back, flailing its limbs in a desperate attempt to right itself.

Kayson wasted no time as he sprinted, bringing his scythe down on the thick neck of the beast.

Much like butter, the bear’s head detached from its shoulders and spilled to the side, more of the rotten, dark blood pooling beneath its massive body.

Kayson dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, breathing heavily against the stench. His chest burned as he looked to the ocean beyond the cliff. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but when his gaze dropped to the shoreline, his heart tumbled over itself.

Light-colored beaches were stained with darkness, black webbed lines creeping from the water and skittering across the sand.

Kayson shuddered in disbelief, almost dragging himself to the cliff edge.

He extended his hand toward the water, feeling his power try to scurry away from the Rot’s promise of devastation.

It was as if the darkness that now touched his land was enough to make his power hide within.

Kayson groaned as he stood, fumbling through his deep pants pocket for a tin he always carried. Inside were rippling pills, meant for precarious situations just like this. He was at the beach in less than a second, falling to his knees at the webbing.

Again pushing his hands beneath the thousands of pebbles, Kayson closed his eyes.

Within his mind, his reservoir was horribly depleted.

He knew his magic was slowly vanishing the longer he had stayed in Varios, but this level was new.

Anytime he ventured to that continent, it took him weeks to return to his normal strength.

It felt as if the Rot was so threaded into the fiber of Varios’ heart that it dared to unravel the magic of anyone who set foot on it.

But he had been home for a while now, and his magic should have returned to full strength. He hated the uneasy feeling in his gut as he pondered why it wasn’t. Kayson did not like to dwell on the darkness that plagued Varios and how hard he fought to keep it off Vlazias.

Breathing deeply, Kayson forced his mind to shut out the doubts. He knew his strength and abilities, and he understood that nothing was more important than keeping this plague away from his people.

Speaking to the core of the earth, he dug deep into his reservoir. A scream ripped from his throat as he propelled his power harder into the ground, shoving the Rot backward. He had done this a thousand times before, but this felt different—stronger, wiser .

It slithered away like a hundred little snakes, retreating into the ocean water and scurrying down so low he could no longer see it. He did not know how much time passed as he sat there, hands in the earth. But he did not move until that festering ache from the Rot left his chest.

* * *

“What the Sorrows is it?” Marea asked, kicking the head of the bear with her boot.

“I have no idea,” Kayson replied, leaning against the side of a tree for support. The sway in his head reminded him he hadn’t fully recovered from the depletion of his power, especially after overexerting himself to push back the Rot.

Wylder eyed him from across the small clearing, his brows knitted together in concern.

Marea took a cautious step away from the creature. “It looks like a bear. But a rotten bear—one that died a long while ago and jumped out of the grave.” She shuddered, pulling her fur cloak tightly around her shoulders.

“You think it’s Rot-made?” Wylder asked, unfolding his arms and poking the bear’s body with the tip of his sword.

“I don’t know what else it could possibly be,” Kayson responded. He glanced at the black blood pooled around the bear’s severed neck, noting how the frayed skin was discolored and blotchy—an unusual state for something that would typically take weeks to decompose.

“How is it here?” Wylder asked, his gaze shifting to Kayson’s hand. The king instinctively tried to hide it in his pocket, but the movement only drew more attention.

The Lady Commander approached, grabbing his ungloved hand to inspect his fingers. Kayson cringed as they both noticed the gray tips at the same time. “You haven’t been this low in years, Kayson. What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“I don’t buy that,” Marea snapped. “What’s going on? You never keep things from us.”

He sighed, running both hands through his hair and tucking the longer strands behind his pointed ears. Kayson sank to the ground, letting his head fall against the trunk. “I don’t know,” he whispered, softer than intended. “Ever since Arenna’s powers were revealed, things have been different.”

Bramnen blinked. “Different how?”

“I feel different. Not as strong as I used to or maybe just not replenishing as fast as I used to.” Marea settled beside him, crossing her legs. Kayson hated the worry in her eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t help it,” she said sadly.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you lot,” Kayson snapped. “You worry too much.”

Wylder interjected sharply, “You don’t worry enough. You’ll kill yourself by overdoing it, and if we don’t keep you in check, who will?”

Bramnen placed a hand across Wylder’s chest, pushing him backward slightly. Kayson ignored the anger in his Lord of Shades’ eyes, knowing it stemmed from a place of concern. “Kayson, he’s right. If something has changed because her powers awakened, you can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

His gaze shot upward, fixing on his Hand. “What do you expect of me, then? To let the Rot feast on Vlazias? To not fight alongside our army? To stop shielding Worden?” He stood, closing the distance between himself and Bramnen. “How could I possibly choose between those?”

His dark eyes brimmed with sadness. “If you don’t . . .” He grabbed Kayson’s wrist, lifting his gray fingers to eye level. “You won’t be able to do what you were born to do. Your fight is much bigger than this.” He glanced at the decaying bear.

“You’re suggesting I let the Rot come?” Kayson’s tone turned angry. “Do you remember what it did to Varios? To the humans?”

Marea added, “We don’t know if that will happen to Fae.”

“But you’re willing to risk it?” Kayson sneered. “If you all need a reminder of what that plague does to people— to children —then I am happy to pay for your fare to Varios.”

Wylder stepped forward, folding his hands behind his back. “We don’t need a reminder, Kayson. We’re just saying—”

“I know exactly what you three are saying,” he snapped. “But if you think for a second that the Rot is the best option, then you do need that reminder. I will not allow that darkness to rip through our towns, changing our people or our animals into ravaged beasts that hunt, kill, and eat.”

Bramnen’s lips tightened. “It’s already here.” He pointed to the bear. “You have to give something up.”

Kayson blinked, swallowing the rage burning in his throat.

He stared at the body of the bear for too long, his friends and council too quiet.

He knew they were right; he was no use to either continent or his people if he burned out trying to protect them all.

And if he did burn out, the Rot would still come, his people would still be at war, and he would have no way to realign the continents and fulfill his role in the prophecy.

He understood that wasn’t an option, especially now that the Firewielder had been reborn. Because of Arenna, he knew that solidified his role in the prophecy, and he would not die and pass the gift to his future son, like his ancestors had done for generations.

Every part of his body ached as he said, “I will drop the ward. The Crystal Palace does not apply.” The three of them nodded solemnly, as if they understood the danger this might pose to their home and their people.

“Find out where this beast came from. We need to make sure there aren’t any others. ”

Kayson placed a rippler beneath his tongue and vanished without another word.

He reappeared in front of a worn-down, old lighthouse on the southern cliff, a place his parents had visited often when they were still alive.

He traced his finger along their names carved into the red stone.

“I will not fail,” he whispered. “Not again.”

Though the Fae King wasn’t sure if he believed that, he hoped his parents could not sense the lie from the Realms.