Page 16

CHAPTER 16

‘How can you do that?’ Avi asked.

Elva grinned and wiped the water from her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the bright morning light.

She’d just proved him wrong, again, and wanted to take a moment to savour his disbelief.

‘I don’t even think dolphins can hold their breath for that long,’ he said, and she laughed.

They’d snuck out of the castle every morning that week to swim, the aftershocks of the second ceremony still too close to the surface for her to feel completely at ease, but not so fresh she was willing to forgo the one part of her day she actually enjoyed.

She hadn’t seen Fyn since he left the library.

She definitely hadn’t thought about him, either.

‘What would people say if they knew you were a fish?’ Avi asked, trying to keep a straight face.

She gasped and placed a hand on her chest in mock horror.

His laughter bounced off the water and she grinned again, diving under the waves once more.

‘How’s everything going?

’ Avi asked when she’d surfaced.

She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips.

She was totally and utterly lost.

She had no idea when the third ceremony would be, and her body ached with pent-up nerves.

Just because they’d passed two ceremonies, didn’t make her feel any safer about the last.

If anything the stakes felt higher, as if she had more to lose.

‘You’re allowed to say shit,’ Avi said.

She grimaced, and opted for a half-truth.

‘I’m bored.

I’m not allowed to train and most of the conversations I have revolve around the different shades of lavender they want at the wedding.

I have no idea what’s happening in Vettona because my letters haven’t arrived, and the more I get to know Fyn, the more I question whether we’ll ever be able to understand each other.

’ She turned to him.

‘But enough about me, how are you?’

He laughed and spat out a mouthful of water, the droplets hitting the waves like tears.

‘Perhaps I can help with some of this. Regarding Vettona, new trade routes have opened and there seems to be less hostility between the nations.’

This was good news.

One of the driving factors behind the treaty was trade; Vettona had fishing industries and harvest plains, while Clochain had a strong naval force and even stronger trade routes to Reathas.

That Clochain was welcoming this before the third ceremony was completed was a good thing, right?

‘The blight is still wreaking havoc on crops and new life,’ Avi continued, ‘but people are saying that will all stop once you’re wed.

’

‘What do you mean?’

He sighed, a long sound that echoed off the early-morning water.

‘There’s a rumour spreading through the city that the lack of new life was punishment from the Seacht, but the union between you and Prince Fynton will appease their discontent and the blight will cease.

’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Elva said.

The gods didn’t care about the suffering of humans.

Yes, they were attuned to the happenings of the world, but that was through their children, the demigods.

It was they who influenced the human realm on a day-to-day basis.

They who lived and breathed and worked in the human cities, not the gods themselves.

‘They say we haven’t had a union that bridged such a divide since Caius and Aurelia,’ Avi continued.

‘Why do they say that?’

‘Because we haven’t?

’ He sounded unsure saying this, his voice rising at the end like it was a question.

‘As in, Vettona and Clochain have been at each other’s throats since the Great War.

This feud has lasted centuries, and we’ve finally got a peace treaty on the table just when the world is on the brink again.

I hate to say it, Elva, but it does kind of make sense why people see the parallels.

’

‘First of all, Fyn and I aren’t some great love story.

Secondly, Caius and Aurelia founded the Seacht together, they’ve always been on the same side.

’

He looked at her again.

‘What?’

‘Well, there’s another rumour.

.

.

’

She swore but nodded for him to continue as they swam back to shore.

‘Some people believe Aurelia was actually on the Ellarch’s side, and only joined the Seacht to infiltrate Caius’ inner circle.

So the union of you and Prince Fynton is actually more similar to their marriage than you think, in terms of bridging a divide.

They think the prince will save you from the Ellarch and you’ll finally see the light.

’

‘But that’s absurd!

There’s no world in which Caius would marry an Ellarch loyalist.

’

Avi didn’t say anything.

If she hadn’t been using her hands to stay afloat, she might have strangled him.

‘Why do people think I’m an Ellarch loyalist, Avi?

’

He didn’t respond, and another, more urgent, question tumbled from her.

‘And how do you know all of this?’

The squeak of sand had them turning in unison before he could answer, and Lady Oriann appeared on the beach.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Avi said, already hauling himself out of the shallows.

Elva squinted and swam closer.

She wanted to hear the conversation, but she was in knee-deep water, and her steps made loud sloshing noises, which were the antithesis of sneaky.

Avi reached Oriann and smiled, a small, tentative expression.

Their mouths moved in silent conversation, and Oriann nodded, her brows knitted together before Avi said something and she laughed, tipping her head back in a fountain of red.

Her hand rested on his shoulder for a second, then she turned and looked at Elva, who was unsuccessfully inching closer to try and listen.

‘Good luck!’ Oriann called.

‘I’ll see you up there!

’

Elva stared after her as she retreated.

‘What was that about?’ she called to Avi.

He shuffled his feet and reached for their towels, handing one to her.

‘Nothing.’

‘Avi, you can have a girlfriend. That’s not against the laws of guard-ship or whatever.

’

Avi stared at her.

‘She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my friend.

Like you.

’

She snorted, not the answer she’d been expecting.

‘Are we friends?’ The question was simple, but it was more honest than she’d intended.

Avi was her guard.

A Clochain male who was meant to keep tabs on her; she’d be naive to think it was anything more.

She broke eye contact, unable to hold his gaze when she suddenly felt so vulnerable.

‘She came to tell me about a new lead,’ he finally said.

‘About what?’

‘Someone I’m helping her track down.

’

She glanced back up the track, Oriann’s red hair faint as it reached the top of the cliff.

‘Why couldn’t she wait?

’

Avi met her gaze.

His eyes were deep green and shiny from the cold water, familiar in a way that made her feel safe.

Stupid.

‘Because Advisor Gudren wants to see you about the third ceremony.’

Elva hadn’t been to the castle cathedral since her arrival, and she was preparing herself for a crowd of onlookers.

But when the doors opened the hall was empty, save for Fyn standing in front of the eternal flame.

Light shone through the stained glass, illuminating the throne in colourful flecks.

She took a breath and straightened her shoulders, pushing down the confusion she felt at seeing him.

She had no idea where she stood with him, which was a feeling she was wholly unused to.

The warriors were many things, but coy they were not.

At any given point she always knew where she stood with them, and without their forthrightness, she was second-guessing every godsdamn thing.

She shot him a wary look, unsure if he was going to ignore her or grab her hand again.

‘Nice of you to join us,’ Fyn said when she was near.

‘If I had known it was you who’d summoned me, I would have taken longer,’ she said dryly.

‘I didn’t summon you.

’

‘Sure you didn’t.

By the way, lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?

’ She’d had a good morning at the lake, and she wasn’t going to let him spoil it.

His mouth quirked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Dark circles ringed them, and a shadow of a beard covered his jaw.

‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

He turned to face the empty throne, breaking their eye contact.

‘You know, back home I’m known to give great advice.

Some people have even called me wise.

So, if you’re able to get over asking a woman for help, maybe I have the answer you’re looking for,’ she said, bumping his arm as she faced the empty throne next to him.

Shoulder to shoulder, they flanked the front of the room as the gemstone mosaic shone in the morning light, and the heat of the flame licked her skin.

‘Not speaking has nothing to do with you being a woman and everything to do with the fact that I don’t trust you,’ Fyn said, his words so quiet she nearly missed them.

‘If we actually finished a conversation, maybe you’d discover you could,’ she said, matching his tone.

Fyn cocked his head to one side and assessed her, eyes drinking in the Clochain dress she wore until they spotted her heavy boots beneath.

The long dress usually obscured the leather, and she readjusted the hem, hiding them once more.

‘I don’t know what you are, but I doubt you’re wise,’ he said.

She grinned, exhaling in amusement.

‘I’m not.

In fact, I probably have the worst reputation of all time for giving advice, so you made the right decision,’ she said, satisfied that he seemed to fight a smile at her words.

‘Do you know what the third ceremony is?’

Fyn stiffened.

‘Is that why we’re here?

’

‘You didn’t know?

’

At that, the door in front of them opened and they both stood at attention.

Advisor Gudren stalked into the room, followed closely by King Dermont.

Her levity drained at the sight of the demigod, and every inch of her personality shrank back, folding in to create a shield around her Ever.

Beside her Fyn dropped to a kneel, and she lowered her head and raised a hand to her brow.

They held the position for a count of three, ten, thirty—

‘Rise,’ the king said, voice muffled.

King Dermont sat on the throne, legs splayed in front of him.

His voice was muffled because he was busy eating a plum fed to him by a woman who had entered behind him.

Not just a woman, Elva realised with horror – Oriann.

She carried with her a basket full of fruit, luscious and ripe.

Elva tried to catch her eye, but it was pointless, Oriann’s glazed eyes slid over her, unseeing.

Elva was appalled, and wanted to shove the plum into the king’s mouth until he choked.

Oriann must have sensed her thoughts, because only then did the woman meet her gaze and give a small shake of her head.

Elva dropped her eyes, choosing instead to stare at the eternal flame which moved as if an invisible wind fanned it.

‘Blessed by the glory of the Seacht, in the shadow of Caius we follow,’ Advisor Gudren said, his voice monotonous.

Elva and Fyn intoned the prayer back.

‘I am delighted you have passed the first two ceremonies, and your union has been blessed by the gods of Foresight, Hindsight, Tranquillity and Agitation. There are many who thought this impossible; however, I am thrilled you have proven the naysayers wrong. As such, the third and final ceremony before the wedding will take place on the full moon.’

Elva glanced up.

The king didn’t notice; he continued to eat the plum Oriann held, lips moist with nectar.

Where the hell did he get a plum at this time of year?

she wondered, then realised the weather was warmer in Reathas and this must be a gift from the Seacht.

The frown she was fighting deepened.

‘You are to travel to Mount Ard and offer yourselves to the gods of Beginnings and Endings,’ Advisor Gudren continued.

‘It is my honour to serve,’ Fyn said flatly.

The king stopped eating and stared at his son.

She could feel Fyn tense beside her.

‘Don’t be smart, Fynton.

’ The king spat out the plum pit, the seed glinting in Oriann’s open palm.

Elva swallowed her disgust and followed Fyn’s lead, locking her limbs into stillness, letting her gaze land on the fresco behind the king’s head.

‘I asked Advisor Gudren to call you both before me today so that I might impart some wisdom before you undertake the final ceremony.’

‘Of course, Your Majesty,’ Fyn said.

The king’s lazy smile grew, but his eyes remained cold, and he turned his attention to Elva, roaming for cracks in her silence before he spoke again.

‘The people of Cailoch are deeply invested in the success of these nuptials. I would urge you the greatest caution when offering yourself to the gods of Beginnings and Endings; Aurelia and Avalon will not tolerate treachery. I would detest a repeat of the last time you visited Mount Ard, Fynton.’

The silence in the room was as thick as syrup, and Elva dared not breathe.

She didn’t know what the event was that the king alluded to, but she knew a threat when she heard one.

After minutes of antagonising silence, the king dropped his hand from the armrest and stood.

‘You leave tomorrow. I have business to attend at the castle, but Advisor Gudren will Evert to the mountain when the ceremony is ready. Lady Oriann will join you as your lady-in-waiting, Princess. She has perfected the womanly art of serving and has much wisdom to impart. Blessed by the glory of the Seacht, in the shadow of Caius we follow.’

He blessed himself in the shape of the diamond, then strode out the door, Advisor Gudren on his heels.

Oriann closed her hand around the wet plum pit and followed the king out of the hall without looking at Elva.

Repulsion ripped through her as soon as they were gone, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Fyn shudder.

She turned to face him, noting his eyes were burning a hole in the spot his father had just vacated.

‘Fyn?’ she asked, shaking his shoulder.

Anger poured off him in waves and her knowing pulsed in concern.

‘Are you okay?’

He refused to meet her gaze and a prickle of unease washed through her.

She took a step towards him and her Ever bucked in warning.

It was all she could do not to gasp.

A lightning storm raged in his eyes.

The flecks she’d seen prior were nothing compared to the tempest in his irises now, fury unleashed.

She felt like she was looking over a cliff, and a small, irrational part of her wanted to jump.

The tug between them pulled and she gasped as her hand automatically reached for his, the sensation filling her seed of Ever to breaking point.

It surged between them, an anguished tether that made her Ever writhe, as if it was being dredged from the depths by an endless vacuum of power into Fyn.

His eyes widened in shock and she knew, in her very bones, he had sensed the magic inside of her.

She stepped backwards, releasing him, and the tug banked, replaced by a rational voice inside of her that was screaming.

Fyn knew she was Ever Blessed.

Because he was Ever Blessed.

She took a big breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

She wanted to flee, but Fyn’s eyes hadn’t banked when the tug had ceased.

Instead, he seemed to grow in power, a rampage of uncontrolled magic, about to explode.

She didn’t know what to do.

She took another breath and met his gaze, and as if he was unable to stop the impulse to mirror her, he inhaled.

So she took another, and he followed suit.

They inhaled together, inches apart yet worlds away from one another.

His eyes raged like firelights were exploding inside him, but the frenetic energy started to dip.

He took another breath, and another.

She didn’t know how much time passed.

She’d never seen anyone in the thrall of Ever so violently, but she’d sat with many of her warriors after the adrenalin of battle had worn off.

Ever or not, Fyn was having a panic attack.

The only difference was if he lost control they could both wind up dead.

After a time, Fyn’s body relaxed and the lightning storm faded.

When his eyes finally blinked brown, he collapsed into a sprawl at the foot of the dais.

Reality slammed back in.

Fyn had Ever.

What the fucking fuck ?

‘Do you want to talk—’

‘No.’ He sighed, and rubbed his face, looking at her through bloodshot eyes.

If the Seacht found out he had Ever they would kill him.

Anyone who was unable to control their Ever was a threat to the entire world, able to burn through the magic that the gods needed to keep order.

And Fyn sure as shit didn’t know how to control it.

‘Are you a demigod?’ They were the only ones in the cathedral, but her voice was barely a whisper.

He laughed, hollow, and shook his head.

‘No. Are you?’

She choked out a sound, neither admission nor denial.

The truth was she didn’t know, and she’d never asked her mother because her mother didn’t know about her Ever.

She had no idea what lineage her magic derived from, which made her all the more dangerous to the Seacht.

That Fyn had managed to hide power so strong, for so long, without discovery was a miracle.

‘Why haven’t you been caught?

Your eyes.

.

.

’ She waved a hand, hoping he understood.

He stared at her.

‘No one has ever commented on them before.’

She let his words sink in, unable to find a good explanation.

‘Do you mind?’ he asked after a minute’s silence, voice hoarse as he gestured to the door.

Part of her wanted to argue, to stay and force him to spit out whatever it was that had triggered this event, but she could feel self-preservation humming.

Only years of fighting at the front line kept her voice even.

‘I don’t need to know the specifics, but if you want to talk, I’m here and I – I won’t tell anyone.

’

Fyn closed his eyes and she turned, walking out of the hall, hoping she hadn’t just made a fool’s offer.

Keeping her own secret was hard enough.

Hiding the Crown Prince of Clochain’s too?

That very well might be her Ending.