“A thousand souls,” I whisper, pressing my eyes closed for a moment. Deep relief fills me because I wasn’t the one who killed the humans during the final battle. “A thousand human souls. You killed them on the battlefield to give you power to pull me from the sky.”
Imatra leans back a little, pride making her eyes shine. “It was easy to lure Tobias Exalted to the border. I told him to meet me on the battlefield, to bring his full force, and we would settle the war between us once and for all. He was so desperate for an end to the conflict. That part was simple.”
Her smile fades, replaced by cold anger. “Ripping you from the sky was harder. But seizing your power proved impossible.”
My voice is as cold as hers. “You cut out my heart.”
“I spent years researching the old magic, the history of your species, the nature of your power. Once grounded, you would take the shape of a girl, a transformation triggered by contact with solid earth. I would have moments to cut out your heart before you woke up and defended yourself. Provided I removed your entire heart, you would die, and your power would be mine.”
My memory sweeps over me. Imatra had plunged her knife toward my chest at the same time Nathaniel’s father swung his halberd at her neck.
She’d missed. She’d cut off the tiniest sliver of my heart instead.
“Nathaniel’s father interrupted you,” I say.
She laughs, a harsh, condescending sound. “He wasn’t supposed to survive my dark magic—he should have died with the others when I pulled you from the sky—but I underestimated the power of light magic he held. That damn weapon protected him! I didn’t realize he was alive until it was too late. He tried to save you, and my blade slipped.”
She snarls as she leans closer. “By the time I tried again, you were waking up. I missed the stem at the top of your heart. So you lived—but with a fraction of your power. You were a shell compared to who you were before. When you woke up fully, I told you a story that gave me control over you, and you never questioned it.” Her mouth twists. “But your broken heart was useless to me. All my work, a lifetime of planning… destroyed! And now… look at you. Glowing.”
“Nathaniel gave me back part of my heart,” I say.
She considers me with cold eyes. “I thought that first slice had burned to ash. If I’d known Tobias stole it when he tried to save you, I would have destroyed all of Fell looking for it.”
I lower my weapon, allowing it to swing to my side without harming her thunderbird. “Now I’m bound to fight for you.”
She doesn’t smile. “The old law binds everyone, no matter who they are. You may not be fae, but you are my champion under the Law. How sad for you to kill Nathaniel.”
I don’t know how much of our conversation Nathaniel can hear. Treble has remained in the same position coasting in the air behind us, a little to my right. Imatra’s voice is soft and so is mine, but the air is still and quiet, allowing the sound of our voices to travel.
“I will not kill for you,” I say.
She dares to reach toward me as if she’ll stroke my cheek, but she pauses before she makes contact. “Oh, my dear child. You think you love him, but consider this: His father stole a piece of your heart. You were connected to Nathaniel from the moment he held your heart in his hands. Do you really love him? Or is your love stolen, just like your heart?”
My hand clenches around my weapon. From the moment Nathaniel stepped out of the mist, I was drawn to him. His strength, his honor, his heart. We formed a connection faster than I thought possible. I reasoned that it was a result of the Law of Champions—the Vanem Dragon’s promise that we would walk side by side, that we would eat, sleep, and breathe together and, by the end of the third day, we would know the other better than we knew ourselves.
Every part of the Dragon’s warning has come true. We have experienced each other’s lives in Bright and Fell, fought by each other’s sides, battled for each other, suffered the same wounds, the same heartache, breathed air into each other, brought each other back from the brink of death.
And as for knowing the other better than ourselves… Nathaniel discovered my true power before I did. He recognized what I was before I did, while I understand light magic—the power of his weapon—even though I suspect he doesn’t.
But none of that compelled us to love each other.
From the moment Nathaniel carried my heart beside his… did either of us have a choice about whom we would love?
“You won’t refuse to fight for me,” Imatra says, a declaration.
My gaze flickers to the side—to Nathaniel, who waits quietly on Treble.
Nathaniel is a massive, strong, forbidding man. Broken a little now, but his expression is blank, the face of a king. He could tear me apart if he wants to. He already has.
I breathe slowly, and when I turn back to Imatra, I wear the mask of her champion, my emotions finally hidden, my purpose all that matters.
“I will fight for you,” I say. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You will return Nathaniel’s weapon to him.”
Her eyes narrow. “It won’t protect him from your power,” she says, but she doesn’t look completely certain about that. “Old magic is the highest form of magic. Your starlight can defeat light magic. Dark magic, too.”
I nod slowly. When I healed Maggie’s Ebon Rot, I thought I was curing her body—I even called it ‘healing’ in my mind—but she didn’t recover until I destroyed the seed of dark magic in her heart. I didn’t heal her. I ended the dark magic that had taken hold of her. It was the same with the girls I helped. I flooded them with my magic to make them well again.
“I can destroy fae magic too,” I say, closing the gap between Imatra and me to make my point clear. I’ve never killed a fae. I vowed to protect the fae, not hurt them. I need her to know that right now, I choose not to hurt her.
“King Cyrian won’t give up his kingdom easily,” I continue. “He will demand that the fight is fair. If you give Nathaniel his weapon, Cyrian will have nothing to complain about.”
Imatra considers me carefully. “I will grant your request, but you must do something for me first. It will be a show of faith. Well, it’s not for me, really, but for your loved ones. Assuming you still care about Evander and Talsa.”
I bristle at the implication that I don’t. “What do you want?”
“You must stop the glitter field from sending out any more bulbs.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “The glitter field is your creation. I don’t control it.”
She laughs, a sudden, almost hysterical sound. “Why do you think I was stopped from cutting out your heart’s stem, Aura? Why was I so far away from you when you woke up?”
She continues to laugh, the sound rising in pitch until it grates against my hearing. “You created the glitter field when you woke up and tried to defend yourself against me,” she says. “I barely survived the blast of power you used to create the field, let alone the glitter shards that exploded around me.”
She shakes her head, as if she’s trying to shake off her memories. “I never imagined such a horrifying retaliation. A field of crystalline starlight to tear apart anyone who steps near you. Oh, the tears I cried.”