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A mona, Vahly called out with her mind. Mother? Can you hear me?

Kyril? Please let me know you hear me.

Nix? I’m alive. I’m on the northwestern coast with Arc. We’re heading toward the Lost Valley.

But there was no answer. Not from anyone. What would she find at the Lost Valley?

Vahly’s hand went to where her sword normally hung from her belt. But, of course, her sword was gone, thrown into the ocean’s deep by her enemies. She closed her eyes, feeling incredibly tired.

“Arc, none of them are speaking to me. Amona, Nix, Kyril. They’re all silent.”

Haldus looked east. “We met with Mistress Nix and your gryphon Kyril. They were kind to us and searched for survivors until we assured them none lived. They flew toward the Lapis palace to meet with Matriarch Amona and inform her of your capture.”

A sad smile tugged at Vahly’s mouth. She and Arc traded a look loaded with fear and admiration for their friends. While they were escaping the sea kynd, Nix and Kyril had been looking after things here, aiding kin and doing their best to get help.

“They told us about the day you were taken, Earth Queen,” Rigel said, “and how Arcturus dove in after you. We guessed all were headed to Tidehame.” His gaze touched Arc’s forehead. “I know we are mourning, but there is the business of the elven crown.”

Arc’s eyebrows drew together, then his face cleared and he sighed, grief like a heavy cloak on his shoulders. “I am next in line.”

Ursae clasped her pale hands and blinked up at him. “Will you take the crown and continue our legacy as best we can in this state?”

Arc cocked his head. “Was that a marriage proposal, Ursae?”

Heat roared through Vahly’s cheeks, and she fisted her hands. She wanted to demand the elven girl back away from Arc, but this was Arc’s decision to make. It was one thing for Arc to consider Vahly as a mate when all was well with his kynd, but now…

Ursae bowed her head to Arc. “If you wish it, I am willing. For our kynd.” She looked up, her gaze stroking his face. “I have always admired you.”

It was all Vahly could do not to cut that elf down right then and there. Gritting her teeth, she spun and walked toward Ryton so she wouldn’t say something ridiculous.

At the sight of Ryton bleeding and slumped inside yet another magical cage, all her jealousy over Arc and Ursae faded. She knelt and reached a hand through the lines of light. His skin was like hers had been, tough and glimmering.

“Thank you for rescuing me. I’m still your enemy.

I’m no fool. But you saved me when you could’ve left me for dead.

I will see that they heal you and return you to the sea.

Eventually.” They couldn’t simply plop him back into the water.

He’d be killing dragons and working for the Sea Queen again in no time.

“You may as well kill me,” Ryton said, his voice raw and splintered. “She will when you release me into the water. I think I’d prefer your version of death to hers.”

Vahly stood and crossed her arms, doing her best not to hear Arc’s conversation with the other elves, a discussion about lines of hereditary power and breeding that was only going to make her sick with jealousy.

“Your queen is a real treat, that’s for sure,” Vahly said to Ryton as he squinted in the bright sunlight passing through his air magic cage.

“She isn’t known for her kindness.”

“No, she sure isn’t. Why did you save me? Or better yet, why did you work for someone you think so little of? Or even better than that, what is that thing on your back?”

Ryton’s head lolled to the side. He took a disjointed breath and raised himself onto an elbow. “You remind me of my younger sister, Selene.” He glanced at Vahly’s wind-tossed hair.

“She must be worried about you.”

“She is dead.”

Oh. Well, he wasn’t getting too much sympathy here. Vahly had lost loved ones too, at the hands of Ryton and his kynd. “Was she slaughtering elven children at the time? Or was that during one of your kynd’s many sneak attacks on the Jades?”

Ryton’s throat moved in a swallow. “We were fighting your dragons. The Lapis. The matriarch burned her to death.”

Vahly’s hands loosened, and she stared. Amona had killed this male’s sister. Vahly had seen Amona kill many, but to know who the warrior had been… This felt different.

“Selene’s most dominant trait was her curiosity.

She longed to learn about every type of creature in the world.

In water and on land. She didn’t care that showing such enthusiasm for dragon ceremonies and human art was unacceptable to our kynd, taboo even.

She read and read, and she pushed me to bring back items from human shipwrecks and ruins.

The day she died, it was her first mission.

I begged her to stay back, away from the front lines, but she was dauntless, and I couldn’t hold her back.

She was fighting that day, so I know why Matriarch Amona killed her.

That’s the first time I’ve admitted that fact.

Warriors die, and my sister was a warrior.

I will never forgive the dragon queen, but I do understand her acts.

They fight for their own as we fight for our own. ”

Vahly’s shirt felt too tight, the sun too hot. She spun to see the elves still in deep debate, Arc in his thinking pose with one arm tucked under the other. He tapped his lip with his thumb and squinted, speaking quickly in elvish.

“Will you heal him at some point tonight?” Vahly said to the elves. “I can’t stand to see any more torture today. Keep an eye on him though.”

Ryton sat up, crossing his legs. His trousers were still soaked. “I won’t attack you or the others here.”

“The promise of a sea kynd.” Vahly snorted. She opened her lips, ready to regale him with all those she’d lost due to his kynd, but Arc’s gentle voice stopped her.

“I will heal him soon,” Arc said. “But first, Rigel wishes to crown me so that my magic will grow stronger for the fight to come.”

He looked every inch the Elven King. His gaze was black and unwavering.

Haldus, working a sparkling spell on the bag he carried, had provided Arc with an emerald cloak and a dark shirt.

Arc stood tall, the cloak snapping in the wind, the thick cloth like dark wings around him.

Magic curled around his fingers and temples, spinning more quickly as if it knew the gravity of the situation.

“That makes sense. I hate that it’s under such a pall, but Cassiopeia would want you to take the reins of your people, to help them survive this.”

Arc took her hand, a question in his eyes. Oh, the pain he must be in. She couldn’t imagine it. She’d lost her kynd when she was still a babe in arms. She had no idea how it would feel to get such news now.

Swallowing, she brushed her palm along his forearm. “Do as you see fit for your kynd, and together we will fight and win against the sea.”

He smiled, relief relaxing the wrinkle between his black eyebrows. “Thank you.” Leaning in, he dragged his lips lightly over her cheek, then her ear. Shivers danced down Vahly’s neck as he whispered, “But you’ll always be my queen.”

Ursae glared at Vahly but dipped her head respectfully as Arc turned to speak. “I accept the role of Elven King.” He took a knee in front of Rigel.

Rigel held out both hands, his fingers hovering near Arc’s temples. “May the Source bless your power and your heart. May the Blackwater rise in your blood and beat back any bent leanings. May you reign for one thousand years.”

A shout erupted in Vahly’s head, distant but urgent.

My girl! You live! There were tears in Nix’s telepathic voice. I am on my way north to help!

Vahly put a hand over her roiling stomach, so glad to hear Nix, but also cold with fear at what she needed to tell her. You can go back. We have a plan.

Vahly, we are with the Lapis, and there is bad news.

I know about Illumahrah , Vahly said. I’m with Arc, Rigel, and the rest.

It’s not that, Vahl. It’s the Lapis. Do you remember the plague that hit the sea kynd a long time ago? When their finned bodies washed ashore in scores, their flesh cloaked in violet sores?

Vahly’s gaze snapped to Arc. He was by her side in a blink, his new crown of churning magic swirling about his head.

Vahl, three score of the dragons here are infected. Already, fifty-two are dead. I fear you shouldn’t come. You could catch this plague. But I know you, and you won’t listen, and you’ll want to see Amona and Helena and that little Ruda.

Are they sick too? Vahly gripped Arc’s cloak, desperate to hear a no .

Amona doesn’t look herself, but no, she hasn’t taken sick yet. Helena and Ruda are rushing around here like fruit bats after a summer storm. They are well enough.

Kyril? Longing threatened to sweep Vahly’s legs and throw her to the ground. She missed Nix’s wry smile, the sage and sandalwood scent of Amona’s embrace, and the warm and steadying connection to Kyril more than she could put into words . Can you tell him to speak to me, in his way?

I don’t think he can manage it, or he already would have. He is truly struggling with all of this death. I can’t get him to talk to me either.

Vahly winced, almost feeling Kyril’s pain.

Absently, she rubbed her fingers and thumb together, imagining the silken feel of his wings.

She inhaled, wishing his sweet animal scent would rise into the air.

We’re coming. The elves will help us move quickly.

I’m far. Near the Jade palace. I’m going to ask them for help.

You’ll probably have to do more than ask, Nix said. Put that oath they swore to use. I wish I could be there to see Eux’s face when you do. Source, I’m glad you’re alive.

The old Nix never would’ve been all right with Vahly asking the Jades for help. But after all they’d been through, petty clan loyalties didn’t feel as important as banding together as one, all land creatures fighting for the same cause.

To stay alive.