“When you fight Aura Lucidia, remember what you’re fighting for,” Hagan says, his voice a deep rumble. “This is not about you or her. It’s not about one death. It isn’t even about honor or glory. It’s about being the king you were born to be. Remember that.”
Turning from Nathaniel, Hagan pins me with his tawny gaze. “How far will you go, Aura Lucidia?” he asks, the question in his eyes demanding honesty.
Yesterday, when Hagan slung me over his shoulder and carried me to the White Walls, he asked me how far I would go to save Nathaniel’s life. I told him I would do whatever it took.
Since then, Nathaniel’s people have screamed for my blood. They’ve hurt and restrained me. I could hate them. Maybe I should. But none of that matters. What matters to me is that Nathaniel is… Nathaniel. He is the only chance for a peaceful future for Bright and Fell. Even if my power is the only cure for the Ebon Rot, I have to believe that his people will recover once Cyrian is no longer draining their life energy.
I know what my path is. I just have to walk it, one step at a time.
“Whatever it takes,” I say. “I promise you.”
Hagan gives me a solemn nod. “Then I will also keep my promise.”
I consider him carefully as he backs away from us. The only promise I remember him making was when I demanded that he decide whether to escape with me this morning.
He told me he would help me, then he would die.
I turn to find Nathaniel studying me as carefully as I scrutinized Hagan.
“What does he mean?” Nathaniel asks, a hint of worry darkening his expression.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “I think he means he’ll do what’s right.”
Putting my fingers to my lips, I give two short, sharp whistles, hoping that Treble is listening. I follow the first two whistles with a third, longer one that will tell him everything is okay; he doesn’t have to hurry.
His gorgeous blue body ducks beneath the haze for a split second before rising into it again. He won’t easily trust the humans after what happened this morning, but that single quick dive will have allowed him to see where I am—also to locate everyone else and decide where it’s safe to land.
A moment later, he reappears on the eastern side of Null, gliding silently toward the crop fields there, the farthest point from the trainees. If we’re lucky, they won’t even see him. He can choose whether or not to crack his wings and he’s smart enough to move with stealth right now.
Nathaniel and I hurry to meet him, making our way past Nathaniel’s hut. We also pass the stables where Nathaniel’s stallion, Flare, is housed safely. My heart hurts as we leave the hut and the horse behind, since this is the last time I’ll see them.
Running isn’t an option with my injured arm—I’m not a graceful sight even moving at a walk—but we make it to Treble’s side within a few minutes. He chose a spot where Mathilda drained the environment so he doesn’t crush the remaining food source.
After I pick my way through the final distance to his side, Treble lowers his head to nudge me and then Nathaniel, softly keening a welcome.
“Hello, buddy,” Nathaniel says, rubbing Treble’s neck. “Ready to fly us into danger?”
Treble bounces his head and rolls his eyes.
“When aren’t we flying into danger?” I ask.
As we settle onto Treble’s back, I prepare for the flight ahead. Treble sweeps his wings with the minimum of sound, and we rise into the air.
I take a last look across Null. In the distant courtyard, Esther is determined to teach the humans how to kill fae. Christiana will be trying to decide where her allegiance lies. A hundred glitter bulbs are safely contained in Nathaniel’s hut. And Hagan, who was once a hunter, is waiting for his death.
Treble rises beyond the height of the buildings and our view of Null is replaced with a wash of crimson plants and black vines, a magical illusion that protects everyone who lives here.
Chapter 11
It takes us over an hour to reach the western coast. Treble flies above the haze to avoid detection from the ground and takes a wider route so we can avoid the border where the fae squadrons will be located.
The sky is mostly clear in all directions, which allows us to check for distant thunderbirds, but toward the end of the flight, clouds have started gathering in the north closer to Bright. It’s unlikely that the fae will fly across the border into the haze, but even so, I remain on alert.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time we reach the edge of the mist and can see the western coast ahead. I inhale salt, a strange taste on my tongue after the humid air beneath the haze, while the soft sound of crashing waves fills my ears, making my senses buzz.
“It’s the ocean!” I call to Nathaniel.
“Have you seen it before?” he asks, his bristly chin grazing my ear as he leans closer to plant a kiss on my cheek.
“Only from a distance,” I say. “You can see the coast from the western mountains where I grew up, but I’ve never flown this close to it before. My border patrols were always concentrated on the central border and I couldn’t stay away from Imatra for long enough to fly out here.”
I never had an excuse to fly so far toward the water itself, let alone to the Spire.
“What about you?” I ask. “You said you’ve never visited the Spire, but what about the ocean?”
“I’ve never seen it before.” I hear the smile in his voice as he drops another kiss, this time on my neck, light touches as he leans forward.
My own smile fades as I check our location again. The glitter field is a visible boundary on our right, miles wide and extending all of the way up to the coastline. We need to make sure we stay on the Fell side of it.
In the distance, the Spire has come into view, a majestic tower rising up from the rocky cliff’s edge, the landing pads extending from both sides of it taking on the appearance of slender branches stretching out from a solid trunk. I sense a change in the air around us—a shift in the air pressure—but I’m not sure what’s causing it. Possibly the tower itself.
“We have to be careful,” I say, turning again so I don’t have to shout for Nathaniel to hear me. “The Border Guards patrol all along the glitter field. They shouldn’t come near the Spire, but it’s safer if we stay out of sight after we land.”
Treble circles around the tower as we search for the spot where Mathilda and Imatra met at the base of the tower—a small ledge right at the cliff’s edge.
“It’s too narrow to land,” I call.
“The other side is surrounded by the glitter field,” Nathaniel says. “Let’s land on the southern wing.” He points upward to the platform on the right-hand side of the Spire—the one pointing in the direction of Fell country. “We can find a way down inside the tower.”
Treble quickly rises before he coasts to a quiet stop in the middle of the platform.
Far below us, the ocean waves crash against the rocks, a lulling ebb and flow, but my senses are heightened, my instincts alert. I shiver and Nathaniel closes his arms tighter around my waist.
“This is a place of old magic,” Nathaniel says as he rises with me. “If I remember correctly, blood can’t be shed here. Much of the old law has been forgotten in Fell, but it’s alive and strong here. My father taught me some laws before he died but certainly not all of them. We need to proceed carefully.”