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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

P IRMIITH FOUND US on the training grounds. His eyes were red with tears and Syrra ran for him. “Is it Uldrath? Noemdra? What is wrong, miikan?”

He took a sip from Syrra’s waterskin. We stood in silence as he wiped his mouth into a frown. “Damien has raided three of the villages. He took all the Halflings.”

I punched the training post beside me. Gerarda’s shadows spooled out of her, lashing along the ground. “It’s not what we’d planned, but we can liberate them when the war is won.”

Pirmiith looked like he was going to be sick.

Gerarda’s confidence dropped with her shoulders.

“No,” Elaran said, tears pooling in her eyes.

Pirmiith nodded his head. “He killed them all. Slew them in the streets. Even the children.”

Gerarda ran from the training ground without a word. Elaran moved to follow her, but I grabbed her arm. “It isn’t safe. Let her drain her magic first.”

I dropped to my knees, but no sobs came.

Riven shook his head. “But how will he pay for his ships and armies if he has no weapons to sell? He must still need Halfling blood.”

Syrra’s neck tensed. “He has an entire city to bleed.”

“Kairn saw Gwyn’s eyes. Damien did too.” I tossed my blade onto the grass. “He must have put together what I can do.”

Vrail’s lip curled in disgust. “He would rather have every Halfling slain than give you the chance to turn them? You would never force that upon a child.”

I shrugged, too exhausted by grief and loss for any more rage. “I don’t know if Damien is capable of believing that. He assumes everyone would make the same choices he would for power and immortality.” I swallowed. It was why I always ended up disappointing him in the games he’d made me play.

We were both willing to be as ruthless as we needed to be. But what we considered necessary had never been the same.

I turned to Pirmiith. “Where are the scouts?”

“At their posts.” He stood up from the rock. “Except for two who are watching the squadrons led by Arsenal members.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The Dagger and the Arrow.” Damien had already replaced his dead with new.

Riven grabbed my arm. “They’re traveling separately or together?”

“Separately.”

My chest tightened. That meant twice as many villages could burn.

I wiped my eyes. “Call in as many as you can.”

Elaran scoffed. “You could send the scouts to warn them. Instead, you’d have them leave the Halflings for dead?”

“No.” I crossed my arms. “But we have to have a plan or they will die too. We’ll decide which villages can be evacuated the quickest. Some of Victoria’s contacts are still harboring Halflings.” I turned to Dynara. “You will send word, ask them how many they can help escape if we can’t get there in time.”

Dynara nodded and ran.

I turned to Gwyn. “Are you ready to test your powers?”

“Absolutely.” She grinned.

“Good.” I nodded her off the field. “Go get rest. We’ll fetch you when we have a plan.”

Gwyn looped her arm through Fyrel’s. “If I’m going, then she is.”

Fyrel’s cheeks turned pink but she didn’t shrug Gwyn off.

My eyes narrowed. “No transformations. No bravery. You must follow orders.”

Fyrel’s back straightened and she nodded.

“Then get to bed too.”

They took off, giggling as if I hadn’t just given them permission to risk their lives.

“And what about the cities?” Vrail asked, her face flushed with rage. “There’s hundreds of Halflings in Volcar, and Damien’s fleet is right there. He could kill them tonight if he wanted.”

My mouth tightened. “Then we pray that he doesn’t.”

None of the Amber Fae had enough control over their powers to fight—that was what Damien was placing his bets on, no doubt. He wanted to force our hand, to make us play, before our magical numbers grew too high and their gifts too strong.

Vrail’s voice cracked. “We could evacuate Volcar too.”

I shook my head. “We aren’t ready. It would spread our resources too thin.” I turned to Syrra. “He may not attack the city. He has no way of knowing if we would come to Volcar’s aid or use the opportunity to attack the capital.”

“A risk.” Syrra nodded. “But a balanced one.”

Her approval didn’t loosen the knots in my stomach.

“So, we just wait?” Vrail scoffed. “Like ducklings along the river knowing there are foxes about?”

“Villages are one thing, cities another.” Vrail’s disappointment stung, but I knew this was right. Damien wanted us to run in, unprepared, so he had the chance to smite us. We had to fight against that instinct, or we would lose. “We’ll send word and supplies, but until Damien does otherwise, we have a responsibility to protect the people already here.”

Vrail stomped her foot on the grass, scattering Gerarda’s shadows. “I hate this.”

So did I.

Vrail met me at Sil’abar. She had found a vacant room secluded enough so we wouldn’t be interrupted.

“How certain are you that this will work?” I asked, biting my cheek. My palms were tacky with sweat as I undid my weapons belt and sat on the cushion Vrail had put on the floor.

Her face fell to a deadpan stare. “You know I only deal in probabilities.”

“How probable is it then?” I gave her the most dashing smile I could manage, but it felt uneven and misshapen on my lips.

Vrail shook her head. “Probable enough for me to try. It will either work or it won’t.”

I swallowed thickly. “No chance that I will see anyone else then?” Nikolai had gotten so much healing from speaking with his mother through Vrail’s gift, but I knew that some of the ghosts who could be waiting for me would be enough to send me into a spiral of wine-sodden grief.

Vrail’s gaze fell to Brenna’s name on my arm and then her diizra around my neck. “No,” she said, more softly than before. “But you don’t need to be the one to do this. I could—”

“I do.” My jaw snapped shut. Vrail was right; anyone could ask Faelin about her past but I needed to. The weight of everyone’s fate tore at my shoulders, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to stand. If I fell, how long would it take for the Elverin to tumble with me?

I hoped she could help. Give me answers, yes, but also reinvigorate the part of me that clung to every doubt when our people needed decisive action.

Vrail’s lip twitched but she didn’t argue. Instead, she patted the pillow and gestured for me to lie back. I did, the soft linen caressing my cheek as my head sunk to the floor.

Vrail looked down at me. “Are you ready then?” She held out her hand for me to grasp.

“Yes,” I breathed, clasping my fingers around hers.

Vrail’s magic was not the slow, warm creep of Feron’s mindwalking ability. It was a jolt. I flinched like I’d been hit by lightning, but there was no pain. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer inside Sil’abar.

There were no dwellings encircling the giant tree, only a wide meadow lush with flowers edged by a thick forest in all directions. The wind blew through my short hair, the jagged ends blowing across my cheek as I stood from the soft ground.

Vrail stood beside me. She squeezed my hand and pointed in the direction of the Dark Wood. “I’ll let you speak on your own.”

“Thank you, young one,” a gentle rumble of a voice sounded beside me.

I turned and saw her. Faelin, the first of the Fae, mother to all our kind. Her coiled hair was long and voluminous, tight spirals encircling her striking face. Eyes of liquid gold complemented the rich brown of her skin. Her high cheekbones were only made sharper by the soft, flat bridge of her nose and round, full lips.

I dropped to my knees. “ Niinokwenar .”

“One Faemother should not kneel for another. Stand, Keera Waateyith’thir.” She gave me a dazzling smile.

I blinked. “You can speak the King’s Tongue?”

Faelin’s lips twitched. “I can speak whatever tongue my descendants do, for I live in you,” she answered in Elvish.

I stood, the top of my head barely reaching Faelin’s chin. Her shoulder was marked with the same Elder birch branch that was carved into Syrra’s shoulder. The branch of the tree that gave her life.

“Ask what you must.” Faelin turned toward the Dark Wood. “It drains your friends’ gift greatly to keep me here.”

“The waateyshirak .” I faltered, trying to catch my thoughts. “You banished them by creating the second sun.”

Faelin’s thick brows furrowed. “I created the shadow sun to lengthen the day and shorten the shadows. But you already know this, Keera.”

I tilted my head. “The story we found in Vrail’s book. You led hunts to destroy their nests. To kill them one by one. But if you had so many gifts, why not kill them all yourself and keep your magic?”

“All magic has its limits.” Faelin took a deep breath. “I had a choice. My powers were great but only great enough to choose between destroying many waateyshirak at once or weakening them all. Perhaps if there had been more Fae in those early years, I would have chosen differently, but lessening their strength gave every clan a chance to fight them, even when I could not be there.”

“A choice you made with the future Elverin in mind.” I ran a hand through my hair. I was trying to make the same choice, but I didn’t know what gave the Elverin the best chance. “Could it be done again? Would another shadow sun keep the waateyshirak at bay long enough to end Damien’s reign?”

Faelin lifted her chin. “Perhaps, but that would come with great sacrifice and no guarantee that the Elverin could vanquish the waateyshirak for a second time.”

I looked up in the sky, but only one sun shone down on us. Here the shirak didn’t exist; there was no need for Faelin’s protection. “It took all your magic to create the shadow sun? Feron says creating it cost you your gifts and you died.”

“Most of it.” Faelin gave me a small smile. “Though Fae cannot create magic. Only use it or store it away.” She glanced up at the sky.

My heart stilled. “The shadow sun is a seal? It stores your magic still?”

“A powerful spell that took weeks to weave.” Faelin nodded. “And one that protects our people still.”

“And what if it was broken?” My eyes narrowed. “Would that release enough magic to kill the shirak for good?”

Faelin’s lips thinned. “Many of them, but not all.”

My stomach fell to the ground. It wasn’t worth risking the only protection we had against them if it didn’t ensure their destruction.

Faelin’s stare hardened. “Breaking a seal comes with its own cost.” She clasped her hands, her long sleeves billowing in the light breeze. “The last one you broke almost cost you your life.”

“Elverath gifted me great power.” My hands fisted at my sides. “Perhaps this is how I’m meant to use it.”

“Or perhaps Elverath gave you and your kin the gifts to rebuild after the war is won.”

I scoffed. “How are we to fight Damien’s armies and the shirak at once?”

“You will find a way.” Faelin’s eyes glowed gold. “You always have.”

I cocked my jaw. “What is the point of being able to talk to the ancestors if you don’t tell me what to do?”

She laughed. “We do not have all the answers, Keera. We never have.” Faelin placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Your ancestors have already fought this battle and lost. Do not chain yourself to their choices but learn from them.”

I bit my cheek. “If I stall, people die. If I make the wrong choice, all our people may die.”

“Yes,” Faelin answered as if that wasn’t the most horrifying word she could say. “Create a second shadow sun, destroy the first, do neither—the choice is yours, and I trust you will make the right one. But know that to create a spell like that—or destroy one—takes measurable strength.” Faelin’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “Strong enough, and one may do it on their own. But the burden can be shared. Split between many gifts.” Faelin leaned closer to me, her eyes lit by an auric glow.

My back tensed. “I can’t ask the other Fae to do that.”

“Your mother did.” Faelin raised a brow.

I stepped out of her grasp. “And that only delayed the conflict. The Elverin are done living under the shadow of the throne. Elverath is theirs, and they will get it back now or die trying. Not seven hundred years from now.”

Faelin stepped forward and put her hand to my face. “You have learned so much, Keera. Trust yourself.” Her eyes flicked behind me where Vrail was stumbling through the meadow. “Our visit has come to an end for now.” She stood tall as the edges of the landscape began to fade. “Know this, Keera Waateyith’thir, there is healing in the past when you are ready to search for it.”

I reached out, wanting to know what she meant, but Vrail collapsed on the ground and everything around us went black.

I opened my eyes and saw we were back in the empty room. Vrail panted as she crawled on the floor, reaching for her waterskin. I passed it to her and squeezed her knee.

“Thank you for holding on as long as you did.”

Vrail nodded through rasping breaths. “Did she tell you anything that could help us?”

I shook my head.

“At least we tried.” Vrail collapsed back onto the floor.

“We did.” I cleared my throat and stood so Vrail couldn’t see the guilt on my face. I was not going to let the council or any of my friends deliberate on this. Faelin had gifted her knowledge to me, and it was mine to use.

Though hopefully I wouldn’t have to.