Page 50 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Tryggar's wings cast rippling shadows across the forest floor as we descended into the Grove. The ancient trees reached toward us with gnarled fingers, their branches still bare from winter's touch. I paused, taking everything in—the smell of fresh flowers, the cool breeze rolling in from the Highlands up North. I glanced over at Aether, whose eyes had fallen to the ground, some unreadable expression crossing his face.

"This isn't anywhere near the Western border," he said quietly, dismounting Nihr beside me.

"No." I ran my hand along Tryggar's neck, feeling his muscles twitch beneath my palm. "But it's where the Compound is—where they keep the blood oaths. All of them." I turned toward the city sprawling beyond the trees, its towers piercing the morning sky. "This is Luminaria."

"The Grove stays relatively empty outside of solstice celebrations," I explained, but my voice faltered as memories flooded back—Bekha and Jordaan, their silent screams echoing through these very trees as my focus tore through their minds. Laryk's face when he found me, his eyes observing me with something dark— understanding, maybe. Or pity. That was the moment everything changed.

Now I stood in the same spot, a different person entirely.

I turned to Tryggar, pressing my forehead against his. "Stay hidden," I whispered. "No more curious impulses like in Riftdremar." His dark eyes held mine, and I felt an unfamiliar ache—wondering if my father had once spoken to him like this. "Stay safe."

Nihr was already melting into the treeline, but Tryggar lingered for a moment, nudging my hand before following.

"There's somewhere we need to go first," I said, turning to Aether. "The Apothecary."

His brow furrowed. "The one you used to work at?"

"Yes. There's someone I need to see." I moved toward the city's edge, where shadow met stone. "Someone important."

Aether fell into step beside me as we dissolved into darkness, flowing from tree to tree until forest became alleyway. Luminaria sprawled before us in all its glory—white marble and gilded towers reaching toward the clouds, streets paved with stones that sparkled in the sunlight between all of the vines and moss, canals breaking the city into pieces. Once, I'd found it beautiful. Now I saw it differently—every shimmering surface seemed to mock the ash-covered streets of Ravenfell.

"So this is how the other half lives." Aether's voice carried a dry edge as we melted between shadows, going in and out of our spectre forms. "Rather gaudy, isn't it?"

I glanced up at the towering domes, their golden caps catching sunlight. Everything gleamed with an artificial brightness that made my eyes ache. "It does feel... different now."

"Different how?"

We pressed against a wall as a merchant cart rattled past, the sound of its wheels against cobblestone almost deafening.

"Like a mask," I whispered once the street cleared. I led us down another alley, this one darker, safer. "When I lived here, I thought the city was beautiful."

Aether's shadows curled around mine as we moved. "And this Apothecary— it's worth the risk of being seen?"

"Ma runs it. We can trust her." The words caught in my throat. "She's... she took me in when no one else would. Gave me work when others saw nothing but my branding. She's family." I paused at the mouth of another alley, checking for passersby. "She never saw me as anything but Fia. Never wanted me to be anything else."

"Until now?" Something in his tone made me turn to him.

"What do you mean?"

"When she learns what you are. Who you are." His golden eyes found mine through the darkness. "Will she still see you the same way?"

The question hit harder than I expected. "I don't know what's happened since I've been gone," I admitted. "But I need to find out."

A group of nobles passed by, their silk robes rustling against stone. We waited, pressed into the shadows of a doorway.

"And if she alerts the Guard?" Aether's question was barely a breath against my ear.

"She won't." But even as I said it, a sliver of doubt crept in. She had been mass-producing the breathing tonics for the Western strongholds. Just as I had asked her to. Guilt churned through me as my eyes found the cobblestones. "Ma's different. She sees past what others can't. Or won't."

We emerged into another alley, this one achingly familiar. The Apothecary's worn sign creaked in the morning breeze, herbs painted in fading gold across weathered wood. My pulse began to race as we approached.

Not so long ago, I'd stood in this very spot, desperate to warn Ma about the Wraiths devouring the Western border. Now I was back with one of those supposed monsters, trying to undo everything I'd once believed. The girl I'd been then wouldn't recognize me now—wouldn't understand how I'd become this.

"No one's inside," I whispered, reaching out with my focus to confirm what I already suspected. "Just Ma, in the back room."

Aether's form shifted beside me. "I'll stay in the shadows."

I nodded, my hand already reaching for the handle. The familiar bell chimed as I stepped inside, and for a moment, everything felt wrong. The usual herbs and spices that had once perfumed the air were gone, replaced by the sharp tang of brine. Dust coated the shelves where dried flowers once bloomed, and bottles sat askew, their contents looking dull and far past their expiration date.

"I'll be right with you!" Ma's voice called from the back, and my throat tightened at the sound. I turned the lock on the door with trembling fingers.

My boots scraped against the floor as I moved toward the back room, each step feeling heavier than the last. Ma stood at her workbench, her silver-streaked hair falling loose from its bun and the sight alone tugged at my heart in a ferocious way. Somehow, there were hibiscus stains dotting the back of her work robe in places that seemed impossible to reach. I took a step closer as she stirred something in a cauldron, the motion seeming mechanical and strained.

"Just a moment," she said, still not turning.

"Ma."

The glass vial slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor. She spun around, her face draining of color as our eyes met.

"Fia?" Her voice cracked on my name, and suddenly I was moving, crossing the space between us as tears blurred my vision.

Ma's arms wrapped around me with crushing force, and I buried my face in her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of burning rosemary. Her whole body trembled as she held me, or maybe I was the one shaking. I couldn't tell anymore .

"I thought—" Her voice broke. She pulled back, her hands moving to cup my face, eyes searching mine as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. "I thought..." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, the words feeling inadequate. "I wanted to tell you I was alive, but I couldn't?—"

"Where have you been?" Her voice cracked again, hands still trembling against my face. "All this time, I thought those monsters had—" She stopped, unable to finish the thought.

I caught her hands in mine. "Ma, there's so much you need to know. Everything we thought... it's not what we believed. None of it is."

Her eyes searched mine, confusion creasing her brow. "What do you mean?"

"I just came from Riftdremar." The words fell between us, and Ma's eyes went wild.

"What?"

"There are tears between realms—rips, we call them." My voice shook despite my efforts to keep it steady. "When I was in the Guard, we only knew about the one in the West. But there's another. In Riftdremar."

"You've been in another realm—this whole time?" Her hands trembled as she removed her hand from mine and pushed her hair back from her face.

"The Wraiths I told you about last time..." I swallowed hard. "That's just how they hide themselves—they're not monsters, Ma. They're people, just like us. A race called Kalfar." The words tumbled out faster now. "They've been attacking the Western border because they're desperate. The Isle has been stealing essence from them for a decade. Their entire realm is dying because of Sídhe."

Ma dropped onto her stool, but her eyes never left my face. I recognized that look—the one she got when she was putting pieces together.

"Tell me everything," she said quietly.

I nodded, relief crashing through me, washing away any doubts. “It’s a lot,” I warned her.

“I can handle it.”

"First, we were in Riftdremar looking for arcanite. We found the old mines where?—"

"Arcanite?" She blinked, as if recalling a memory.

"That's what started all of this." I let out a breath, the weight of everything I needed to explain suddenly crushing. "Sídhe stole the arcanite from Riftdremar. Then they burned it to the ground to hide what they'd done."

"But why?" She leaned forward. "Why did they need it so badly?"

"There's this ability—a focus that can steal essence and move it somewhere else. It’s called a siphon." I gave her a knowing look. "Remember your plants, Ma? How the arcanite killed them when you thought it would help them grow?" Something flickered in her eyes. "They lied to us about what it does. It doesn't create essence—it stores it. It can take or give to the land, based on how the energy in it is directed…"

Ma's eyes were darting back and forth now, across the room.

"The King of Sídhe. We think he's a siphon," I finally finished.

Ma leaned back, running both hands through her hair until it fell completely loose from its bun. After what felt like forever, she let out a laugh that sounded more like defeat. "I always knew the Guard was pure fucking evil."

"I was wrong about them." I moved closer, meeting her eyes. "I should have trusted your gut. It's always right. But there's so much more to it. The King—he's lying to everyone. Most people in the Guard believe they're defending our realm. We have to get the truth out somehow. It's the only way to end the bloodshed. "

"I guess..." She trailed off, her eyes finding mine again. "I don’t understand. Why you?"

I pressed my lips together, choosing my words carefully. "They recognized me," I finally said. "You know I've never fit in here."

"Recognized you?" The shock was back in her voice.

"I'm one of them." My eyes darted toward the front room. "Well, in part... My father was Kalfar, my mother Aossí. They both died in Riftdremar when it fell."

Ma looked around the room like she might find answers written on the walls. "Esprithe be damned," she whispered.

"There's another thing, actually..." I took a deep breath. "I didn't come here alone."

Her eyebrow shot up. "One of the Wraiths is here?"

"He's not a wraith, Ma." I couldn't help but smile.

"He's in this shop right now?" Her eyes narrowed as they swept across the space. "Where?"

"Aether," I called softly.

Shadows writhed beside me, and suddenly Aether was there. It nearly flipped my world upside down to see him standing so close to the desk I had worked at for years before even knowing he existed—with his void burns trailing up his neck like dark veins, disappearing into his raven hair. The metal of his piercings reflected the firelight beneath the cauldron, the fire that Ma had probably started with her own hands.

His golden eyes assessed Ma carefully, but to my surprise, she didn't flinch. Her gaze lingered on the way his arm wrapped around my waist, and heat rushed to my face.

A moment passed in excruciating silence as the two merely observed each other.

Aether finally nodded, face neutral. "Nice to make your acquaintance."

Ma's eyes drifted from me, to Aether, then back to me, her expression completely unreadable. Finally, she let out a sigh.

"Well, that's a real man if I've ever seen one." Ma chuckled, raising her arms as if to surrender.

I caught Aether's gaze, mortified, but there was that damn dimple threatening to show as he fought back a smile.

"What an improvement." Ma let out a sigh of relief before slapping me on the shoulder. "Good job, kiddo."

The laugh that burst from Aether caught me off guard—deep and genuine. He looked irritatingly pleased with himself as he cocked his head to the side. "I tend to agree."

"And a sense of humor." Ma nodded approvingly. "Yes, I like him."

"Okay, well that's just about enough pleasantries, I think." My face felt like it was on fire.

Ma turned back to her cauldron, lifting the lid to peer inside. "I assume you want me to stop making this then?" She asked, stirring the contents.

I glanced up at Aether, taking his hand. "Remember the breathing tonics I told you about?"

His eyes fixed on the cauldron before finding mine again. He nodded once, understanding dawning in his expression.

"Ma is the one who created them," I said, the words tasting bitter. "For me. When she thought I might need them in the West. It was my idea for her to make more for the Guard."

Aether's body went rigid beside me, but he nodded once. "I suppose that makes sense," he managed, though his words were stilted.

"Yeah, those arms are going to come in handy." Ma broke through the slight tension, eyes fixed on the leather stretched across Aether's bicep. "I have a lot of crates in the back."

That dimple finally appeared as Aether grinned. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head at both of them.

"You can't stop making them." I walked over to where she stood. "There's already a resistance forming in Sídhe. I don't believe the King is aware of it. But there are people who know the truth, who want to help. If you suddenly stop production, it might draw suspicion that we can't afford right now." I paused, considering. "Though if you could make them weaker..."

Ma sighed, running a hand along the rim of her cauldron. "And here I was hoping my shop wouldn't have to smell like fish guts anymore." She shook her head. "But you're right." Then her eyes narrowed, that familiar calculating look crossing her face. "Though that brings me to my next question."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What are we going to do about the King?" She shrugged like she was asking about the weather. "Seems like the simplest answer, doesn't it? Take him out, the draining stops."

"We have to work from the bottom up," I said, catching Aether's slight nod of approval. "Let the truth spread first. If the King dies and people don't understand why..." I trailed off, letting her fill in the blanks.

"That sounds complicated." Ma scrunched her nose.

"It's the best way. Besides, the royal guards are nearly impenetrable. We don't have access. Not yet."

Ma nodded, but something flickered behind her eyes—a thought she wasn't sharing. Finally, she asked, "So are you leaving again? Going back to?—?"

"Umbrathia," Aether supplied.

"Right." Ma's eyes fixed on me, seeing too much as always.

I glanced at Aether, caught between two worlds again. How could I explain that I belonged to both now? That I couldn't simply choose one over the other?

"I have to. At least for now?—"

"For now?" The edge in Aether's voice made my heart sink. We hadn't discussed this—what would happen after. After the truth spread, after the King was dealt with. After everything changed.

Ma looked between us, crossing her arms. The tension in the room had shifted. "What are you not telling me, Fia?" Her eyes held that knowing look I'd seen a thousand times before. "Keeping secrets has never worked out well for you in the past."

I pressed my lips together. "My father was important there." I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered. "Someone with power."

Ma tilted her head, and I knew she wasn't buying it. "Important how?" she asked.

"You're going to want to sit down," I said, finding my own chair.

The words poured out then—everything about my father being Prince Andrial Valtyr, about being a Duskbound and what that meant. I told her how I'd essentially joined the Umbra forces, which earned an eye-roll that was so perfectly Ma I nearly cracked a smile. I explained the Void, about shadow wielders, about Tryggar choosing me. With each revelation, Ma's expression shifted between disbelief and that furrowed brow. When I finally finished, the silence felt heavy with everything I'd just dumped on her.

Ma simply looked at me for a long moment, then nodded once. "Well, I know you're royalty and everything." She stood, turning back to her desk and grabbed something. When she faced us again, she held out a pair of garden shears. "But can you go fetch some peakroot from the greenhouse? If we're going to take down this kingdom, we'll need to dull down this potion."

I accepted the shears with a smile, grateful for her casual acceptance—the way I was hoping she'd react. The way I’d hoped everyone would react—like I was still me.

Ma winked before turning to Aether. "And you." She motioned toward him. "Follow me. I've got some shipments to bring in, and my back is not what it used to be." She started toward the storage area, and Aether followed, a smile quirking on his lips as he disappeared through the doorway.

Night crept over Luminaria, casting long shadows through the shop windows. The familiar scent of burning herbs intermingled with something sharper—whatever Ma was brewing in the back room. She had closed the shop for the rest of the day so that we could prepare. I leaned over a map spread across the counter, the parchment worn at the edges from when I'd tried to escape last summer.

"Here." I traced a path with my finger, feeling Aether's warmth as he stood close beside me. "We can head North, find somewhere to stay in Obsidia."

"A farming village?" His eyes followed my hand across the map.

"Small, quiet. If we get there late enough, we shouldn't draw attention." I glanced up at him. "Plus, there's dense forest surrounding it. The Vordr will have plenty of cover."

He nodded, studying the route. "And then?"

"We go around the North side of the central range, into Aedenvale."

"Through the mountains would be faster."

"The Guard uses a campground there when they travel West." The words rushed out before I could stop them. Memories flooded back—that night in the mountains, discovering I could walk through dreams. Heat rushed to my face as I remembered the dream of Laryk's I'd stumbled into. The one about me.

Aether's eyebrow lifted slightly, but he said nothing more.

"Besides," I added quickly, "approaching from the North gives us an advantage. Most forces will be further Southwest, near the tear." I traced the final stretch of our route. "I've never been to Stormshire before, so once we're there..."

"We'll have to improvise," he finished, though I caught the reluctance in his tone .

The shop had grown dark enough that Ma lit the lanterns, their flames casting dancing shadows across the walls. She emerged from the back room, carrying a wooden crate that she handed to Aether.

His confused look shifted between the crate and me.

"Healing potions," Ma said, dusting off her hands. "For your realm."

"Ma—" I started, but she cut me off.

"It's not much, but it's something." She shrugged, although I saw the weight in her eyes. "With a realm dying, I highly doubt you still have access to the resources to make them."

Pain flickered across Aether's face as he looked down at the crate. "No, we don't." When he met Ma's eyes again, his voice was rough. "Thank you."

"We can't exactly carry these with us to the Compound—" I began.

"I'll leave them in the back, behind the greenhouses." Ma was already moving, motioning for Aether to set the crate down. "You can collect them before heading North."

"I'll take them out there." Aether's voice was soft as he lifted the crate again, disappearing through the back door.

Ma sank into her chair with a sigh, rolling her shoulders. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, kid."

"You've done plenty, Ma." I moved to stand beside her chair, my eyes already beginning to mist over.

"Honestly, I feel a bit helpless just sitting around while all of you go off on these missions." Her smile was small, sad in a way that made my heart ache. "I didn't take enough initiative when I was young. Didn't go on these kinds of adventures."

I reached into my bag, pulling out one of Raven's compacts. Ma's eyebrow raised as I placed it in her hands.

"And this is?"

"We can use it to communicate while I'm gone." I watched as she looked at it with reluctance. "We'll need all the eyes and ears we can manage over here. So Ma, you're not useless. You're our spy."

She turned the mirror over in her hands, examining the delicate engravings. "Well this is some fancy sorcery." She shook her head. "I don't really understand how talking to my reflection somehow connects me with you. But I'll take your word for it."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"We should get going," I managed. Ma set the mirror down carefully, like it was something precious, and stood.

For a moment, we just looked at each other. The shop seemed to close in around us, heavy with memories—countless afternoons spent grinding herbs, early mornings re-organizing shelves, late nights preparing tonics for the Sídhe elite, laughing at the absurdity until we nearly cried. She'd given me everything when I had nothing. A home. A purpose. Love without conditions.

"You know," Ma's voice was rough as she pulled me into a hug, "I always wondered why you seemed so different from us." Her arms tightened around me. "But now I think maybe you were meant for something bigger than Sídhe could offer."

"Ma—" My voice cracked.

"No, listen." She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. "I've spent years watching you try to make yourself smaller, trying to fit into boxes that this realm forced you into. But you never could, could you?" Her eyes were bright with tears. "Because you're not meant to be small, Fia. You never were."

I broke then, tears spilling down my cheeks as I fell back into her arms. She smelled like home—like rosemary and fire. "I'm scared," I whispered against her shoulder.

"Good." She stroked my hair. "Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you from doing anything too stupid." She paused. "Well, more stupid than usual. "

The back door creaked open, and I knew Aether had returned. Ma pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You take care of my girl," she said to him, and though her voice shook, there was steel beneath it.

"Always," he said it like a vow.

Ma nodded once, then turned back to me. "Go change the world, kid." She pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Just try not to burn it all down in the process."

I laughed through my tears, and then she was shoving us toward the door, muttering about how she wasn't good at goodbyes. But as we slipped into the darkness, I caught one last glimpse of her through the window—standing alone in her shop, holding that mirror like an anchor.