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M areleau’s cheeks heated. The reunion before her was chaste in every way, yet she could see the passion, yearning, and agony that filled the blond Elvyn’s eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tipped his head back and whispered something Mareleau couldn’t understand. She’d be more moved by the couple’s reunion if she didn’t know exactly who the blond was—Fanon, the Elvyn who’d been cruel to Cora.

Her gaze swept to the other two figures. They must be Etrix and Garot, the other two males Cora had told her about. Etrix was the tallest with umber skin and black hair braided with gold and silver thread. Garot was the shortest and widest of the three and had fiery hair, tan skin spattered with bronze freckles, and green eyes. All three appeared no more than ten years her senior, but there was something about them that made them seem ancient and ageless at the same time. Etrix carried himself in a way that made Mareleau think he was the eldest. All had pointed ears like Ailan and were dressed in silk trousers and matching robes belted with a wide sash. She didn’t miss the sword each carried at their hips either.

Tightening her hold around Noah in his sling, she sidled closer to Cora and Valorre. She was grateful the attention was fully on Ailan and not them, but it didn’t soothe her nerves. All around her was evidence of just how far from home she truly was. The meadow they stood in rippled with blades of grass as high as her calves and as green as the brightest emerald. Willow trees danced in the breeze, their long branches swaying with more motion than a tree should ever have. Butterflies alighted on rainbow-hued dewdrops and carried them away, but their wings were far too vibrant for a regular butterfly. And too plentiful; some had as many wings as a rose had petals. The birdsong that filled the air was melodic but unlike anything she’d heard. It was lovely and terrifying all at once. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to keep looking around the meadow in search of new surprises…or force her eyes to remain only on the familiar.

Ailan stepped away from Fanon. Her fingers lingered on Fanon’s cheek for several long moments as she turned to face the other two.

Garot bent in a formal bow and said something in Elvyn. Ailan acknowledged the gesture with a hand to his shoulder. He beamed as he straightened. She approached Etrix next. His dark eyes were turned down at the corners and glazed with tears, yet his posture was stiff. He seemed uncertain how to greet her. Then Ailan folded against his chest, arms around his waist. He in turn wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

Cora leaned in and whispered, “Etrix is Ailan’s father.”

That caught Fanon’s attention. He’d risen to his feet and now shot cold blue eyes their way. While the snarl he’d first worn was gone, there was no warmth in his expression.

Mareleau’s first instinct was to shrink beneath that open hostility, but she wasn’t made for shrinking. Instead, she lifted her chin and held his gaze right back with an equally cold stare, eyes narrowing until he finally looked away. She resisted the urge to laugh. That had been too easy. She hadn’t even employed her magic trick. Or her Art, as Cora and Salinda called it. Either way, the Elvyn were mistaken if they thought they could beat her at a glaring contest. If anyone could destroy a man with a look alone, it was Mareleau.

Ailan released Etrix from her embrace and asked him something in that same incomprehensible language. With a nod, Etrix took a step back and lifted a hand. Then, crossing two of his fingers, he slid them through the air in a horizontal line.

“Translation enchantment,” Cora explained, but she hadn’t needed to, for when Fanon spoke next, Mareleau understood him.

“Will you tell us why they’re here?”

With a smile, Ailan gestured toward Cora. “This is my dear friend and ally, Cora. Formally, she is Aveline Caelan, Queen of Khero.”

“So we meet again,” Garot said, his face splitting with an easy grin. His gaze shifted to Valorre. “Your friend as well. What a dashing little vest he’s wearing. A bit clunky, but?—”

“Do you know what she is?” Fanon jutted his chin toward Cora, a motion that carried as much violence as a raised blade. “Do you know she’s a witch? A worldwalker? And what in the mora’s name is that unicorn wearing?”

Mareleau had forgotten how strange it might be to see a unicorn in a saddle, but she was used to the sight by now.

Valorre snorted in response, a derisive sound even to her ears.

“I know exactly what and who she is,” Ailan said, ignoring the jibe at Valorre. “I have known her for many years. And based on what she’s told me, I am not pleased by how you’ve treated her in the past.”

Fanon paled but said nothing in his defense.

“If you’re done making my ally feel unwelcome,” Ailan said, “I have someone else I’d like you to meet. Pray you get your salutations right this time around.”

She left the three Elvyn to stand at Mareleau’s side, then placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “This is the blood of my blood, Mareleau Alante, Queen of Vera.”

“ Khero and Vera mean nothing to us,” Etrix said. There was no reproach in his tone, only truth.

“Khero and Vera are the two kingdoms that comprise the land on the other side of the Veil,” Ailan said. “The land we once called Le’Lana.”

“The land the humans stole,” Fanon said with a scoff.

Ailan ignored him. “There’s one more I want to introduce you to.”

Keeping one hand on Mareleau’s shoulder, Ailan rested the other on the outside of the carrying sling. Mareleau resisted the urge to flinch away. She wasn’t fond of unwarranted touch, but there was something comforting about Ailan’s gesture. She was claiming Mareleau and Noah as her own. In this situation, it was a welcome protection.

“Please meet Noah, blood of my blood and Morkara of El’Ara.”

Etrix bent a knee first, folding into a formal display of obeisance. Garot followed.

Only Fanon hesitated. “Our…Morkara. Not future Morkara, not merely your heir.”

“Yes.”

“You relinquished your title to a…a baby.”

“I had my reasons.” She held his gaze with unwavering authority, much like Mareleau had done, until Fanon bent his knee like the others. For the first time, Mareleau felt a kinship with the woman. Perhaps breaking men with fierce looks had been passed down through bloodline.

“Rise,” Ailan said after a few long moments.

The three rose to their feet. Garot spoke with palpable excitement. “We have a Morkara again. This is a moment for future stories! A heroic return to tell for ages, and I’m here to witness it. I can hardly believe my luck.”

Etrix spoke with far more sobriety. “Can we stop the Blight? As regent, you can move the mora on the Morkara’s behalf. You can finish Satsara’s Veil?—”

“There’s much more we must discuss before we take action,” Ailan said. “Everything we do will have vast consequences. Calling the mora back is no small feat. Even if I called back enough to strengthen a team of our greatest wardweavers, it would take time to untie the edges of my mother’s ward and finish where she left off. And that’s without considering that Darius will try to invade before we can finish the Veil, or the thousands upon thousands of humans who inhabit Lela.”

“What happens to the humans is beneath our concern,” Fanon said.

“What happens to the humans is of my concern,” Ailan said, “which makes it yours. Your duties as steward have been fulfilled. I am here now, so you will heed my word.”

There was no room for argument with the edge infusing her tone.

“As you wish, regent.” Fanon spoke through his teeth, but there was a softening around his eyes that harkened back to their bittersweet reunion.

She returned that look, then addressed the others. “The situation may be complex, but I agree it is one we must address at once. Garot, please weave us a path to…”

Etrix finished for her. “Alles’Taria Palace. We kept the name of the original seat of the Morkara, to honor the palace that was lost in El’Ara’s heart.”

The palace that was lost…

Centerpointe Rock.

Cora had told Mareleau about the rock’s origins. While she’d never seen it, only heard about it from Larylis and Cora, the thought that an entire palace could be whittled down to a single ruin like that was chilling.

“To Alles’Taria Palace, then,” Ailan said. “Once we reach it, weave a secondary path to take Cora and Mareleau straight to a private room. I don’t want anyone gawking at our guests, or even knowing they’re here until we’ve spoken with the tribunal.”

Garot strolled to the edge of the meadow and gestured with a complex wave of his fingers. The swirling vortex they’d emerged from opened once more. “Right this way.”

Ailan gave an encouraging nod for Cora and Mareleau to follow. Valorre tossed his mane, clearly as reluctant as Mareleau was. Yet she followed nonetheless, stomach turning with every step she took toward the three Elvyn and the strange tunnel. She nearly lost her footing as they entered the Vortex. While the ground remained solid beneath her feet, the swirling colors of green and brown made it impossible to keep her bearings. So she fixed her gaze on Ailan’s back instead. The Elvyn closed in behind them.

She cast a squinted look at Cora. Her friend’s grimace told her she was tolerating the nauseating tunnel just as poorly. Mareleau leaned in close. “Yet another situation that could have gone better.”

“To be honest,” Cora whispered back, “I think it could have gone far, far worse.”

An ominous statement, yet Cora would know. The collar she carried was proof enough of just how bad a human could fare in El’Ara. That made the back of her neck prickle as they walked on down the dizzying path with no end in sight. But worse than her fear of what lay ahead was the dread that swelled inside her, growing with every breath, every heartbeat. It reminded her that every minute here was hours back home. Hours were days. A single day was a week.

Being away from Larylis this long was already torment enough.

How much harder would it be for him?