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V ahly’s magic grew more and more unwieldy, urging her to hurry to the Lost Valley, to feel the presence of the place where she’d first drawn breath, to…to do what? She didn’t know.

At dawn, she joined Arc, took up a bow, and headed out to hunt for food to feed the sick dragons.

The moment the sea’s breeze hit her nose, the earth magic’s drumming increased tenfold. Gritting her teeth against the tug in her middle, she listened to Arc tell the tale of the first Elven King. She knew he was trying to keep her distracted, and she appreciated it.

“And the legends claim he swam in the ocean every morning at sunrise, that he befriended every beast under the waves and spoke their tongues. Every tree spoke to him, in their own manner, and by touch he could tell you a plant’s ability to destroy or heal.”

“Did this shining example of a creature have a name? Betterthanus? Or perhaps Impossiblegoals?”

A dimple appeared in Arc’s cheek. The pre-dawn’s pale yellow light cloaked the dark shirt he wore today and touched the straight line of his nose. “He is only called The First One.”

“Yeah, that seems about right. Who would bother with a name that anyone else might pick up down the way? Stick with a title no one can take.”

Arc shook his head, and his chest moved in a quiet laugh that Vahly was pleased to see, even in her current state of trying not to run screaming for the Lost Valley.

They took up a spot behind a stand of tall brazenberry bushes that had gone wild, then they nocked an arrow each.

Falling into silence, waiting for the deer to show, Vahly’s magic became more difficult to ignore.

Her hands shook on the bow, so she gripped it harder, willing herself to remain in control.

There , Arc said in her mind.

A stag with wide antlers strolled out of the trees beside the Silver River and into the meadow like he owned the place.

The animal was quartered away from them, exposing its side at an angle.

Arc raised his bow and Vahly did too, both aiming for the deer as two does trotted into view.

One doe faced them head-on while the other gave a clear, broad side opening.

Arc’s stillness could’ve beat a stone’s effort at the task. He wasn’t even breathing. Only his magic moved, swirling like a storm around his head, almost invisible as he drew the string toward his pointed ear, his muscles bunching beneath his rolled-up sleeves.

Which one? he asked telepathically.

Go for the stag. You’re a better shot. I’ll get the doe.

Arc whispered three words in elvish and let the arrow fly.

Vahly’s arrow hit the doe just below the midline and it fell, mouth gaping open then clamping shut. Arc’s stag was dead before it fell.

After dressing the deer, they headed back toward the palace with a pallet of joints for the ailing dragons who were unable to hunt for themselves or those who were too busy to hunt because they were caring for others.

At the steps of the palace, the earth magic stopped Vahly abruptly.

A lightning bolt of power seared its way from her feet to the crown of her head, and she called out, dropping the pallet’s branch handle.

Her hands were sweating, and she felt like she was going to lose what little she had in her belly.

Arc set their burden down and came around to look her in the face. “Vahly, you have to leave. If your power is urging you like this, you should listen. Don’t you agree? The dragons still have healthy ones among them. Your absence won’t change the outcome overmuch.”

“But Amona and Nix—”

“Need you to continue your journey,” Amona said, walking out of the shadow of the mountain, the golden Lapis symbols embroidered on her dress’s hem sparkling in the rising sun.

Ryton—still caged beside the stairs—stood slowly, his gaze on Amona. He was too far away for Vahly to see what emotion his eyes showed, but from the way he gripped the iron bars, his elbows high and his shoulders drawn up, it surely wasn’t happiness or regret.

Nix walked beside Amona. “Kyril is on his way out. I’m ready to go.” She was indeed wearing her travel clothes again, including the trousers she disliked so much. “I’m sure Arc can be ready as soon as he has a word with Rigel.”

Arc crouched and dug up a dormant red hat flower—roots and dirt and all. He placed it in Vahly’s hand. Earth magic surged from the cool dirt and the spindly roots, and Vahly welcomed the energy into herself, taking comfort from the feel of its power and familiarity.

“What do you think is the right move, Queen Vahly?” The wind teased his ebony hair. “This is your choice. Your move.”

Vahly felt like she was being ripped at the seams, torn in all directions. “Astraea could attack at any moment. I need to follow my magic.”

A small voice pealed from the palace doors. Ruda scrambled down the stairs, and Kyril flew out of the archway behind her, making Ruda appear as tiny as a rabbit. Kyril flashed Vahly an image of Ruda’s brother, Zori, looking much better.

Kyril landed beside Vahly in a gust of wing-swept air, and Ruda hurried up.

“Before you go, will you please consider my plea?” Ruda clasped her hands together, looking nervous.

“Is Zori feeling any better?”

Ruda smiled widely. “He is.”

A weight lifted off Vahly’s shoulders. “I’m so glad. Now what’s this about a plea?”

“Can I be Kyril’s Sourceparent?”

The young dragon wanted to be the one to care for Kyril in the case of Vahly’s death, the stand-in for Kyril’s parents. The request touched Vahly’s heart, and she smiled, watching Ruda’s loving gaze flick to Kyril.

Vahly put a hand on Ruda’s small shoulder.

The dragon’s scales were cool to the touch.

Thankfully, Ruda hadn’t caught the plague.

Vahly looked up and met Nix’s eyes. Nix felt like Vahly’s Sourceparent, though they’d never gone through the ceremony.

Nix’s lips tucked into a line, and she cocked her midnight blue head.

Vahly sighed, fate heavy on her shoulders.

“Ruda, I would love to make you Kyril’s Sourceparent.”

Ruda beamed, dimples tucking into her sky blue cheeks and happiness sparking in her slitted, yellow eyes.

A strange wind rose, and the smell of the ocean drove out the scent of earth. Vahly tensed, gaze snapping to Amona.

Vahly knew well they had no time for this, but she couldn’t stand to break Ruda’s heart, not with all the youngling had been going through. No, Vahly wouldn’t refuse this request. The ceremony would happen, and all the world could wait on it.