Page 149 of Reign of Stars and Fire

“You know Saga has already forgotten it.”

Valen hesitated. “I’ll fight for you. Know that.”

The words were simple but meant a great deal. Valen knew, without saying, my fears of Davorin’s escape. A simple statement, but it told me he would defend the South as assuredly as he’d defend Etta.

I dipped my chin. “You know I will do the same.”

Goodbyes took a few more clock tolls. Calista was the last to bid Saga and me farewell. She hesitated for a few breaths, then flung her arms around Saga’s neck.

“Each day I remember a little more,” she whispered. “I’m not letting him touch you again. I’ll be doing all I can to write him as the first slippery eel to drown.” She faced me. “Be a good king. Keep watch over her. And, uh, thank you for . . . honoring him the way you did.”

I gave a nod of understanding. Annon would be honored in every tale, every poem. Hells, I’d build a damn statue in the Borough for the king and queen of fate and their captain. They’d sacrificed everything to bring us here. To unite families divided, and build a found family stronger than a former kingdom ever dreamed.

Saga smoothed Calista’s hair out of her face. “You don’t need to go.”

Calista glanced at the ship. “Raven Row is my home. It calls to me, but . . .”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “It’s impossible to bid us farewell.”

Calista’s cheeks flushed. “Maybe I could stay. For a little while. Help build up defenses and all that. Maybe . . . maybe learn a little about what I lost.”

Saga let out a choked kind of shriek, as though she were trying to keep her wits, but excitement cracked through. “Yes! You always have a home here.”

I slipped an arm around Saga’s waist and smiled at the storyteller. “If ever you return, I expect to always have a home in the West too. We’ve officially become the irritating family that drops in to stay a month on the slightest whim. Be ready.”

Calista frowned, but the way her cheeks twitched she was fighting a grin. She followed Cuyler and his watchers through the gates of the Borough. The Bridge Isles now served as an expansion to the Court of Blood. Already, Gorm and Magus were uniting the serpents and the blood fae to build grand walls across the inlets around the isles.

The fae courts were gathering.

When Davorin returned—and he would—we’d be ready.

Alone, Saga let out a rough breath. “Do you get the feeling she is keeping things from us?”

“Always.” I kissed her forehead. “There are mysteries around our Calista that we have yet to learn. But I have a feeling when she discovers the depth of her power, our world will never be the same.”

With a sigh, Saga rested her head on my shoulder. “I want to help her find this bond; I want to help her understand her power, but in truth, I don’t know how. I don’t even know where to start.”

I slipped my fingers into hers and pulled her back toward the path that would lead to the Borough. “Start next month. We are at a moment of peace, we are alone, and I have made grand assurances of holing you up in our bed for some time now.”

Saga’s lips curled into a sly grin. “What are you saying exactly, King Ari?”

“I’m saying, my sweet menace . . .” I cupped one side of her face and drew her lips close to mine. “It is long overdue that I deliver on these promises.”

Epilogue

THE STORYTELLER

Time was fickle.Nearly ten turns had left us since the dark bastard scurried away in the sea and it seemed like no time at all.

I’d visited Raven Row. Checked on the old hags once or twice. Usually not alone.

Lump and Tor often joined me when I returned home. Other times it was with a Falkyn, or simply Cuyler and his men. Sometimes kings and queens came, always using the excuse they wanted to reach agreements with the Western palace. The eccentric king hadn’t been seen in turns. Truth be told, I figured he was probably dead and some serf was truly running the Row.

No one seemed to care enough to find out. Or maybe that was the point, some mystical ward kept attention off our worthless rulers and left the Row to fall into its own ragged existence.

Worked well enough for me, and the western shores always drew me back.

This return felt different. I was returning home, but there was a constant prickle on my skin. Like I would not be the same when I stepped foot on the isles again.