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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

R HEIH AND FERON HAD SPENT the night assessing Gwyn, Vrail, and Crison to make their report to the rest of the council. Thankfully, none showed any signs of pain, but they still needed to learn how to control their new gifts. Or discover them.

My muscles ached from lack of sleep, but the meeting couldn’t wait. Not even for Syrra, who refused to leave Nikolai’s side, or Riven, who was secretly making sure all of Nikolai’s wishes for his mother’s funeral were getting done.

Darythir already sat in the room, with a deep frown that made it obvious she was angry. No, furious. Her eyes narrowed as I entered the room and she stopped signing. My status as a Faemother was something not even the eldest of the Elverin were quick to forget.

Feron walked into the room with Myrrah, the two chatting as if they hadn’t been up all night too: Feron in the infirmary with me and Myrrah at watch, looking for signs of shirak in the skies.

She gave me a small smile before locking her chair next to the ornately carved table. “What is this about, Keera? I want to be asleep by midday.”

I cleared my throat and told her that Darythir was concerned about me changing the two newest Fae. “They should have been dead but instead they’re Fae?” Myrrah deadpanned. “I don’t understand the problem. You should be kicking your heels but you look like you’re preparing for a funeral.”

I scoffed. “I only delayed their deaths. If we go to war with new, unpracticed magic wielders, who do you think will be the first ones Damien strikes down? They won’t last an hour.”

Myrrah shrugged. “They may choose not to fight.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Then they practice.” She slapped her hand on the table. “Starting today.”

Feron nodded. “We have already had a few sessions. They haven’t mastered their gifts yet. It could become dangerous very quickly.”

Darythir signed something too fast for me to catch. There was a dramatic flair in her wrist as her hands finally came to rest.

Feron interpreted for her. “She says that it would help if they were given warning instead of suddenly transforming from Halfling to Fae.”

I threw my cloak onto the chair, pacing behind it. If I sat down, I would fall asleep in the middle of our meeting, and we would really get nowhere. “Do you think I meant to? I can’t control it.”

Feron’s brows wrinkled. “But your control has been masterful since you became the niinokwenar . You work your earth wielding as well as I do.”

I doubted that was true. “The other gifts are fine. I always feel in control. But this”—I lifted my hands and stared at them like they held some secret they refused to tell me—“this is different. It’s like being on the brink of burnout, but there’s no pain, just this surge of magic I can’t hold back.”

Gerarda flipped a blade through her fingers. “Both times it’s happened you’ve been scared shitless. Not for you but for the ones you changed. The night you turned Gwyn, you thought she was going to get hurt when you lost control of your magic, and you thought the latest to change were about to die.”

Elaran perched on Gerarda’s armrest. “Why would that matter?”

Gerarda shrugged. “You can’t learn to control something if you never use it. Perhaps if you used this gift voluntarily , you wouldn’t lose control of it in moments of panic.”

My belly hardened with betrayal. “You want me to turn more Halflings into Fae.”

“It would give us an advantage in the fight against Damien.” Myrrah drummed her short, calloused fingers along the table.

“That’s optimistic.” I ran a shaking hand along the top of my braid. “Look at the Dark Fae. Out of the ten who survived until Damien’s crowning, only three were warriors. Riven can still pick up a sword, but he has no shadows to command and Lash is dead. Turning someone Fae does not make them a warrior.”

Feron cleared his throat. “There seems to only be one solution.” He leaned forward onto his cane, his twists falling from his shoulders to frame his face. “I agree with Gerarda. This gift you have must be used—it was given to you for a reason.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Feron held up his hand. “But you do not wish to turn any more Halflings unwillingly, so we must ask for volunteers.”

Myrrah’s lip pursed in thought. “That would work.”

“Are you serious?” I slumped down into the chair, the exhaustion winning out. “We have shirak flying overhead, burning our outposts to the ground, not to mention the false king would like to personally behead me and anyone who has given me so much as a smile in the past year.”

Darythir waved at Feron, signing something with one hand.

Feron dipped his head in annoyance. “She asks you to make your point.”

I threw up my hands. “Every Halfling dreams of revenge. Almost all of them will volunteer to fight but that does not shed the responsibility. It does not shed me of it.”

“You fought for their freedom, dearie,” Myrrah whispered, leaning on the armrest of her chair. “Youthful overconfidence is part of that.” She lifted a brow at me. “A big part.”

The weight of Darythir’s stare did not leave me. Her lips pursed. “Then you can select the candidates from the list of volunteers,” she said through Feron.

My blood turned cold. Choosing any name off that list would be just like all the choices I had made before: who should live and who should die. I would be carving a target onto every candidate’s back that I selected.

My hands shook. I didn’t trust myself to make that choice. I had only ever led because I had to, not because I was good at it. Certainly not because I wanted it. And after weeks of feeling like I was on my own, all I wanted to do was run away and drown myself in wine so I didn’t have to be the one who made the choice.

But that wouldn’t help. I needed to find a third option, the path I’d always been too impatient to search for. To find others to lean on and take some share of the weight.

“You decide, not me.”

Feron stood. “Me?”

“The council.” I made a point to look up at them all. “Whoever walks onto the field of battle with glowing eyes will be made a target. I will carve it into whoever I need to, but you shall pick the names. The blood that will be spilled should cover all our hands.”

A solemn silence fell over the room. It stretched, like a note held too long, then faded.

I hadn’t even realized Darythir was speaking until Feron cut in to interpret. “If everyone was a target, then none would be. We could mark them all.”

Myrrah tilted her head, running the numbers of how many Halflings lived in the two Elvish cities. I already knew it was too many.

I wouldn’t force a single person to turn. I already felt bad enough about cursing my own friends.

“No.” I rapped my knuckles against the wood of my chair. “It would work in theory, but not practice. The new Fae have to be trained, every day. Turn too many and our resources will be spread too thin. Someone will get hurt.”

Or worse .

Feron nodded. “I agree with Keera. I will meet with the other Fae and get their opinions on how many we could reasonably train.”

“And Riven,” I added shyly.

Feron’s back straightened. “Are you sure he will want to be near so many magic wielders after losing his powers?”

I shrugged. “Elverath gifted me the ability to control my powers much more quickly than most. Riven is a Fae who has most recently trained. His insight was invaluable to me, and I am certain it will be again to whoever you choose.”

And whoever I curse.

Feron’s lips curled into a small smile. “I am always delighted to have an excuse to visit my nephew. I shall ask him this afternoon.”

My chest heaved with relief. I had been willing to do it, but if Feron wanted to try I wouldn’t stop him. Maybe he would succeed where I had all but failed.

Feron stood. “Then it is settled.”

Darythir waved her hand, stopping him. She turned to me, asking her question by hand while Feron provided it by tongue.

“I understand not wanting to carry that decision on your own, but why not claim your spot on the council? It is your seat to take.” She waved her arm in the direction of the empty chair beside Feron.

My cheeks went hot, tugging on my throat until the words came out heavy and wet. “My expertise is on the battlefield. Doing the best for our people is yours.”