“How long will it take Treble to fly to the western coast?” he asks once we’ve left the hut behind.
“About an hour,” I say. “You want to go to the Spire?”
“My parents were supposed to take me there. Going without them never felt right, so I avoided it. But we need answers.” He stops me on the empty path, gripping my hand while the crushed flower still rests inside my fist.
“Aura, you’re the only one who can walk through the glitter field unharmed. It’s connected to you somehow. The fact that glitter bulbs are suddenly floating all over Bright and Fell—right before our final fight—can’t be a coincidence. These bulbs, and the memories they contain, are here for a reason. We have to piece it together.”
“Nathaniel… What if you’re wrong? What if it has nothing to do with me?” I ask. “The bulbs… The glitter field…”
He shakes his head vehemently, thumping his fist across the location of his heart, where he carries the stone. “The bulb reminded me to give you this stone. Even if you don’t want it, it’s an important part of your past.” He raises my clenched fist, the crushed petunia petals peeking from between my fingers. “This bulb did not arrive by chance. Mathilda’s hiding something and we need to know what it is.”
“You were going to show me your country,” I say, a gentle reminder. “We have a choice right now too.”
He lets go of my fist, running his hand through his hair. “I thought I could forget about everything else. I thought I could let it all go, all of the questions. But you need to know what really happened during the last battle between our people—and so do I. I want to push it aside, but I need to make peace with my past.”
I stare at the crushed flower in my fist, the tiny pinpricks of silver like miniscule stars dusting its surface. “I want nothing more than to cling to every remaining minute with you,” I say, raising my eyes to his. “But you’re right. Our path has been painful and dangerous from the start. Stepping away from it feels like running away. I have no idea if going to the Spire will tell us anything. Either we will find the truth or we won’t, but we have to try.”
He pulls me into a sudden hug, excruciatingly warm and trusting, before he draws back with a sudden and determined grin. “Food. This way. If anyone interrupts us again, I will end them.”
Sneaking into the kitchen is far less traumatic than it could have been. Nathaniel pauses when we come across Maggie standing at the center table kneading bread. Her hair is tied into a tight bun now, her face smeared with flour.
She doesn’t look up, although a small smile crosses her face before she says, “On the end of the table. Help yourselves. Nobody’s due to come in here for another hour at least, so you won’t be interrupted.”
A basket sits on the table and the scent of stew nearly makes my knees buckle. I slide into the chair nearest to the door, quickly pulling out the bowls, cutlery, more fresh bread and stew, and fresh fruit.
“Thank you, Maggie,” I say.
Like the bread we ate earlier, we consume the food at speed. When we’re finished, Nathaniel prowls around the kitchen gathering more food—biscuits, cheese, bread rolls, and fruit. He also fills two water flasks before he unhooks a satchel that hangs beside the door and slips the provisions inside the bag.
Maggie finishes her task, wipes her hands on her apron, and approaches me with a no-fuss expression. She checks over my face and then my sling. “Your wounds are as clean as they can be, so that’s good,” she says.
I take her hand before she can step away. “Thank you for speaking up for me this morning.”
She sinks into the chair next to mine with a sigh. “My opinion is unpopular. You’ve stirred up a lot of conflict, but much of it was already bubbling beneath the surface. We’ve always had two enemies: Cyrian and the fae. Cyrian has been our focus because he was the immediate threat. The Law of Champions has changed that. We don’t want to lose Nathaniel.”
“Neither do I,” I murmur.
She squeezes my hand, searching my eyes. “You are Aura Lucidia, the most feared fae champion in known history. Yet you saved my life. An old peasant woman. Why?”
I smile, attempting to deflect her question. “You’re not old.”
“But I certainly felt it.” She continues to peer into my eyes. “You didn’t use dark magic like you said. You used your fae magic on me yesterday, didn’t you?”
I nod. “I’ve healed fae children affected by the Ebon Rot. I didn’t know what the illness was until Nathaniel told me about it. I wasn’t sure if I could help you, but I’m glad I could.”
“Do other fae have the same powers you do?”
I shake my head. “I’m the only Twilight fae. I’ve always been… different.”
She’s quiet, her smile fading slowly. “Then… if you die at dawn, the cure dies with you.”
Nathaniel returns to my side, the satchel’s strap now securely crossing his torso, and I’m grateful for the interruption.
He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We need to keep moving.”
Maggie rises with me. “Aura, please tell me one thing: If Queen Imatra gains control of Fell country, should we fight or hide?”
My stomach sinks. I spent seven years as the Queen’s champion cutting down any human who approached the border. I called them Fell creatures—creatures of darkness. My people consider their darkness to be contagious. The fae believe that the Fell must be destroyed at all costs.
“It won’t come to that,” I say.
Beside me, Nathaniel exhales carefully. “Aura speaks now as my wife, Maggie. But as Queen Imatra’s champion, I believe she would tell you to hide. You have to survive for as long as you can.”
Maggie gives him a firm nod. Fear lingers in the back of her eyes, but her back is straight, determined. “I will keep my son alive.”
She hugs Nathaniel, squeezing her eyes closed, hiding her tears as she pulls back. “Please be safe. Both of you.”
It’s an impossible wish. I shove at my rising emotions as we exit the kitchen. Dealing with Christiana’s anger is far easier than facing Maggie’s sadness.
I rapidly swallow my tears when Hagan steps from the shadows at the side of the building. Nothing escapes his attention—not the way the back of Nathaniel’s hand brushes against mine or the way Nathaniel’s gaze passes across my face. Not the tears I’m blinking back, either.
“Nathaniel Exalted,” he says, giving Nathaniel a formal bow, the kind that a soldier would give his king. Hagan is wearing an old black shirt and clean pants, both slightly too small. Only Nathaniel’s clothing would fit him properly, but I guess Christiana did what she could.
“I want you to know that I’ll travel to the border this evening to witness the fight,” he says. “I’ll live or die, but I won’t hide.”
“I didn’t expect that you would,” Nathaniel says. “I’ll see you there, brother.”
Nathaniel continues walking, urging me along the path, but Hagan’s fist darts out so fast that it’s a blur as he grabs Nathaniel’s arm.
Nathaniel tenses, but he doesn’t retaliate, even though the tension between the two men rises. Even in this place of safety, there is conflict between them. Nathaniel once saved Hagan’s life. Hagan repaid his debt by refusing to kill Nathaniel this morning, but there are years of violent history that can’t be forgotten in a day.