Page 39

Daimon

Daimon gripped the edge of the table in front of him. “Brielle, a beta fleet is stationed halfway from here to Baile—take them with you.”

She nodded sharply and quickly left the room.

“Reinforcements should arrive within half an hour.” Keir moved a wooden piece to Baile and then shifted around other pieces near the palace. “Two units will position near the palace to ensure they don’t plan to use the same tactic they did with Drogheda and the grove. We don’t want a repeat of them using one attack to distract from another.”

Carwyn’s face was as cold as ice, her shoulders set and eyes roaming the board—an expression that seemed odd for her, even with the little time Daimon had spent around her. Senna shifted closer to her, worry etching his brow.

“I’ll take Zephyr and meet Brielle there.” Daimon turned, his legs restless.

“No,” Keir said. “You’re needed here. Brielle is an excellent Rider.”

Daimon rolled his neck, his nostrils flaring as he said, “We ride in pairs.”

As if Keir didn’t already know this. They had flown together for years. But Keir wasn’t his third in the flight here; he was the Aegis council head. They stared at each other, the silence tense as they both refused to back down.

Daimon led over ten aerial units, but he was no commander over an entire race.

Senna looked between the two. “Brielle will have a beta fleet—she isn’t alone. We need you both here to strategize and protect the palace if need be.”

Keir nodded his thanks and turned back to Daimon. “If things escalate in Baile, then we’ll both go.”

Daimon couldn’t argue with that. He itched to fly alongside Brielle, to know that he was the one who had his second’s back. But another attack this close to the palace meant everyone was on high alert.

Willow burst into the room, her chest heaving, a hand on her abdomen.

Carwyn gasped. “Willow. What happened?”

It took a moment to catch her breath. She was covered in soot and her hair was plastered with mud.

“Are you hurt?” Daimon demanded.

She shook her head, but her eyes shone with fear. “When they attacked, there was smoke everywhere, fires being set to houses, and people screaming. It was chaos.” Her eyes were distant. “I couldn’t get a good view from the skies. The smoke was too thick.”

Something else was wrong. He knew his Riders, and Willow was always calm after a battle. Something had shaken her.

“They wielded shadows in a way I’ve never seen,” she continued in a whisper, wrapping her arms around herself. “Funnels of darkness that crackled with streaks of lightning.”

Daimon’s heart squeezed. Vidaris had to be helping them, growing her power in the Vale from the slaughter. Anger surged through him, hot as molten lava.

“They’ve never used shadows like that,” Keir growled.

“There’s more,” Willow said quietly. She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “The rebels didn’t make it out alive. Not because of me and the other Rider, and not because of the foot soldiers patrolling the area.” Her voice trembled. “The story that was told by multiple witnesses was that Evelina somehow killed them— all of them—at once.”

Daimon gripped the edge of the table, his vision swaying. He forced his shadows to stay beneath his command; they were desperate to break free and take control.

“Why would Evelina have been in Baile?” He could barely hide the edge of venom filling his words.

Willow’s gaze shifted to him, her eyes filled with guilt. “I invited her on the patrol,” she whispered.

Daimon felt like he had been hit by a boulder.

“Then where is she?” Carwyn demanded.

“Lost, Princess Carwyn.” Willow’s shoulders shook. “The villagers saw the light erupt from her. Many said they could feel the warmth of her Essence shielding them. But she—” Her voice broke and she tried again. “She disappeared along with the rebels. They were torn to pieces, exploding and disintegrating into ash.”

No one could speak. Daimon couldn’t voice the question he desperately needed to ask. It seemed Carwyn couldn’t either. Evelina had never been able to shield to that magnitude before.

“Are you saying you believe Evelina is dead?” Senna finally asked. His usually level voice held a tinge of disbelief, and perhaps even anger.

Willow closed her eyes, and a single tear rolled down her face. “Whatever magic she unlocked, it must’ve been too much for her body,” she said quietly. “We found no trace of her in the village, nor at its perimeter. No rebels survived to escape or take her.” Her voice grew desperate, clearly disturbed by her findings. “I saw how fatigued she was when she shielded last. I can’t imagine she could have run far if she had survived.”

Carwyn exhaled a shaky breath. “Her light has never been strong enough for something like this. It—it isn’t possible. ”

“I saw it myself,” said Willow, awe overwhelming her guilt. “It was like the sun itself burned away the shadows.”

Keir cleared his throat, rising from his seat. “We must gather the rest of the council.” He called to one of the palace guards by the door. “Bring the rest of the Manor siblings to the throne room.”

Daimon could feel his lungs burning with each breath he took. He wanted to find a host of rebels and tear them apart limb by limb, while another piece of him wanted to succumb to the grief building inside of him.

“We can alert the council together,” Senna said, rising with Keir. “Though what of the queen?”

Carwyn wiped away a tear. “We wait to tell her. Her body weakens every day. This news could destroy her.”

Senna nodded solemnly and left, Keir following close behind. Carwyn finally broke her composure, shoulders slumping as the tears fell. She took a deep breath and walked out of the room.

Daimon prayed to the moon goddess as the others filed out of the war room.

She couldn’t be gone, not truly—no matter what Willow saw or heard. There was still a chance, as unlikely as it seemed. He refused to lose her, to imagine a world in which her light betrayed her in such a way.

And if it had, if she’d been stolen from him and taken to the gates of the afterlife, he’d raze the whole of Caelum down to bring her back.