Page 44

Chapter 44

A HUFF ESCAPES ME WHEN a sorcai offers to let our party skip to the front of the line waiting to travel through the jump portal, but Aeson waves them away, telling them we’re happy to wait our turn. It’s polite and considerate of the other travelers but annoying as fuck. Especially since the only reason he’s doing it is to irritate me and prolong our leaving.

I wave away my irritation and look up at the night sky through the peaked glass ceiling. I don’t know if the transparent roof is a design feature or if it’s easier to replace glass in the event a dragon reveals and blows out the ceiling, but I’m not mad at this common feature in the buildings here. I like being able to see the sky at any time of the day; it reminds me of home and grounds me in a way I need right now.

For a moment, I let myself get lost in the unknown galaxies and worlds hiding within the night’s darkest depths. The peaks of Talon’s Reach loom over us like shadow-clad giants that could either protect or destroy depending on their mood. There’s a hum of quiet chatter all around us as other traveler prepare to depart or gossip about the presence of Scion Noctis and his Wing.

The travel station we’re standing in is stark, sleek, and designed to move large numbers of Arcs in and out as quickly as possible. Two of the four available jump portals are up and running at this hour, and I marvel at the large arched openings that are about fifteen feet tall and wide. A border of stones with sorcai runes etched into them surrounds each bright white pool of magic. They’re a more refined version of the makeshift portal I was shoved through in Lairwood.

Absently, I observe the sorcai manning the tall desk near the jump portal we’ll be traveling through. They scan travel documents, upload destination coordinates, and answer questions with a bored yet practiced ease. Several covens of licensed Span Crafters maintain this and the one on the west side of Talon’s Reach. They rotate who resides at the stations themselves to ensure the portals are always operational.

My attention wanders to the travelers all around us, mostly to keep from staring at Aeson and overanalyzing everything he’s doing and saying and everything he’s not. It’s been crickets since we arrived at this portal station on the east side of the mountain range, and my frustration grows with every breath I take.

Thankfully, the line we’re in moves fairly quickly, but I’m surprised there are so many people traveling this late, or rather this early in the morning. Aeson, Ogdan, and Sondar are called to the side to provide the Span Crafter the coordinates for our jump, and I’m tempted to follow them just to see if I can get a clue myself.

Chastain nudges my shoulder with his and wags his eyebrows at me. Coming from him, the gesture could mean anything from I want to discuss my latest conquest to I have to shit , so I simply stare at the cheeky Channeler and wait for him to tell me what he wants. He nudges me again and offers me a goofy smile and a nod.

“Nice daggers,” he finally tells me, and it’s the exact tool he needs to crack my stoic facade.

A smile slips across my face, but I shape it into a coy smirk and shrug my shoulders. “They’re no butter knives, but they’ll do,” I tease, and Chastain’s grin morphs into a beaming smile.

“I know we gave you shit about wanting weapons, Frills, but if I’d known you’d look like that wearing them…wooo eeee, I would have gotten on board a lot sooner,” Blay proclaims as he exaggeratedly starts fanning himself.

I bark out a laugh, unable to stop myself. When I walked out of my room earlier, I was ready to thank all of them profusely for my new treasures. But the commander and his Wing were all being very solemn and guarded, and it was obvious there’d been some sort of conversation about me. So I tucked my gratitude away and just kept my mouth shut, wondering once again if my gifts were less gift and more warning.

“Hear! Hear! Biscuit. I don’t know if I want to eat or be eaten,” Herm chimes in as he exaggeratedly clutches at his chest and appreciatively rakes his eyes up and down my body.

Tove throws her hands up in exasperation and grumbles something to Farrow about acting like they want to be beaten with their own severed arms . Farrow just smiles and shakes his head. I instantly feel lighter now that they’re no longer looking at me like I’m the enemy, but I know this won’t last either.

“Who’s eating my mate ?” Aeson enquires from behind me, the heat of his body suddenly lapping against my back as he stands as close as he can without touching me.

All I would have to do is lean back to breach the barrier of suspicion and mistrust that’s once again been erected between us, but I don’t. Some walls are there for our protection and better left alone.

“We’re up,” Ogdan announces, and I look over to see two sorcai feeding magic into the jump portal.

What’s odd, however, is that several guards have blocked access to this jump portal, and now they have their backs to it as though they’re prepared to stop anyone, by force, who might try to follow us. I haven’t used these portals other than that one time I fell out of one into the sky, so I don’t know if this is normal protocol when a royal travels or if this is something else.

“You’re awfully subdued for someone who’s about to get what they want,” Aeson observes, his mouth close to my ear, too close.

I fight off a shiver that wants to quake through me as his breath tickles down my neck, and move to put more distance between us.

“In my experience, it’s never a good idea to get your hopes up; life proves to be less disappointing that way.”

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his stare burning into the back of my head. It makes me wonder if he’s sorry, if he regrets putting distance between us. Or maybe he’s just trying to read between the lines of everything I do, like always.

I search for our connection, for any hint of his dragon or mine present in this exchange, but there’s nothing there. It makes me wonder if I actually sensed what I thought I did. Maybe this is just a run-of-the-mill bond. What do I know about any of this shit anyway?

When we’re given the all clear by the Span Crafters, we walk up to the archway of white glowing magic and step through. It’s cold, but the suit Nixy gave me has thermal sensors, and it automatically grows warm to combat the sudden change in temperature.

My second trip through a jump portal goes much better than the first. Instead of careening through the sky like last time, my feet immediately touch solid ground when I step through the frigid wash of magic. Wherever we are, it’s also night outside, but everything here is covered in snow, and it makes the dark feel brighter.

My heart drops a little. It was a long shot, but part of me hoped we’d step out into Thrasher Territory. Somewhere near Groton, where my Flight was headed in search of the Conduit. I knew the chances were low, and yet I couldn’t help but hang on to a small sliver of hope that maybe they were on the right track and hadn’t been betrayed again. But we are most certainly not in Thrasher Territory.

“Permits,” a monotone voice demands, and Aeson moves toward the front of the group and presents his forearm.

The guard greeting us scans Aeson’s com patch and then starts flicking through the documents that just uploaded on his tablet. A cutting, icy wind whips strands of my hair free from the slicked back bun I styled my mane into. My breath fogs in the chilly air, and there’s something strange about the smell of wherever we are, but it’s not what I scent that’s worrying me, it’s what I don’t.

Aeson and his Wing are busy with the guards, and I slip a few inches to the right so I can study our location. Unfortunately there’s not much to see. We exited the portal into a rocky inlet. I look down and disturb the snow at my feet to try to see what the vegetation is like under the frozen fractals. But the snow floats oddly around as I kick it up, which I don’t think is normal.

Puzzled, I lean down to get a better look, and freeze.

No fucking way.

It’s not snow…it’s ash.

My head snaps up and I frantically search for something, anything, that will tell me I’m wrong. There are no trees, no bushes, no foliage of any kind. The only living things that I can see are us and the guards still checking everyone’s documents.

My shocked stare skims across the light gray ash that’s dusted over everything. It’s what the wind is kicking up. What’s choked the life out of the very land beneath our feet. With a start, I realize we’re in the Ash Barrens.

As soon as the thought registers, all the pieces fall into place. The restricted airspace. The time limit. The way Aeson freaked the fuck out. There’s only one possible reason why we’d be here…

“You’re all set, Scion Noctis,” a guard declares with a respectful nod. “Welcome back to the Fae Gate base camp.”

Bloody fuck.

Disbelief jabs me right in the chest, and a chill slithers down my spine. No wonder Aeson freaked out. I didn’t think anyone was allowed up here for any reason other than to protect the Fae Gate and ensure that it stays closed. But if that’s true, then why would the Matron of the Relacour Blood Crafters be allowed anywhere near the Fae Gate? Her bloodline was one of the main covens who participated in the rebellion; they can’t be trusted.

I look around, searching for the gate itself, but the inlet around me hides its location.

“Captain Zhao will escort you to your quarters. Would you like us to wake Matron Relacour now?”

“No, it’s late, we can wait until a more reasonable hour later today to meet with her. But per section forty-three through forty-nine of secondary security protocol, please keep the jump portal open,” Aeson orders, and the guard nods and then his gaze jumps back to me.

Another guard approaches the group, and we follow him away from the gate, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. Why didn’t the king tell me this is where I would be going? Is this some kind of a weird test?

Glacial wind wails at us as we make our way through a rocky maze. I start to question whether or not we’re being led in circles when we round a bend and there it is, the Fae Gate that almost destroyed our world.

It sits at one end of a valley, and I sense a hum of ominous power vibrating steadily from the massive ring that’s bordered by tall cliffs on each side. It has to be well over a hundred feet tall and wide, with edges banded in metal. A metal that doesn’t naturally occur in this world, and one scientists haven’t been able to replicate no matter how many times they try. The surrounding border is covered in glyphs that look similar to sorcai runes, but these markings are different and can only be read by the fae. The whole thing is bigger and far more intimidating than I could have ever imagined, not that I would have thought in my wildest dreams of being here one day, staring up at it.

At the base of the gate is a small town that’s reminiscent of something that could be found in an ancient black-and-white Western. One- and two-story buildings line a single road. There appears to be housing, a canteen of sorts, and a small supply store for the squads and leadership stationed up here. There’s also an army’s worth of defensive tech and monitoring systems built into the surrounding cliffs to protect the gate itself and us from the gate if needed.

We’re led toward a two-story building that sits opposite the Fae Gate. I don’t spot anyone moving around, probably because of the late hour. Not that this is the kind of place where people just mill about.

A line of vehicles are parked off to the side of the building next to ours. They look like modified ourocycles, but the front and back rotors are horizontal instead of vertical. They appear to be more machine than magic, sort of like the frankensteined creations we have back home, but these aren’t welded-together death traps. They’re top-of-the-line and pristine.

“You’ve been here before?” I ask Jori, the closest guard to me.

“A couple times,” he answers but doesn’t offer anything more than that.

The guard leads us to a building and we pile inside. It’s surprisingly spacious and comfortable looking with a bottom floor that appears to be some kind of rec area with several tables to sit and eat at, a lounge space, and some game tables. Our escort explains that there are a few private quarters toward the back of this ground floor, while the rest of the rooms are located upstairs.

“As a reminder, please be mindful that no weapons will be allowed outside these premises. You can wear them when you depart, as you did when you arrived, but they are to be stored in your room for the remainder of your stay here, or they will be seized.” Captain Zhao looks pointedly at me.

I sigh, figuring the but I just got them argument isn’t going to cut it with him. I’m probably lucky they haven’t already confiscated them. If I were traveling with anyone other than a member of the royal family, they probably would have.

“Noted,” I acknowledge politely.

With that, Captain Zhao leaves, and it takes exactly three seconds for Aeson to turn to everyone, arms folded across his chest, with an expectant look fixed on his face.

“Get some rest. It’s been a long day,” he orders, looking around as though he expects someone to argue with him.

No one does.

Karis hands the commander his bag, and then he gives him my pack too—the one he stole from me earlier when we were leaving the keep. Aeson’s unreadable blue eyes meet mine, and my pulse instantaneously spikes.

The commander turns to stride down a hall, calling back over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Claws. You’re with me.”