“Tovar,” Erania snaps, pulling me closer as if to shield me from his harshness. “Our Jewel has returned to The Grove. We should be welcoming her, not scolding her.”
“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, precious child,” Tovar says, brushing his hand lightly over mine, though now his touch feels colder, more distant than ever before. “But you know the bargain to protect The Grove rests on you being in Baev’kalath, with your husband, the prince. No matter what drove you to leave, there will be repercussions—repercussions we are not prepared for. Even the twenty Blades at our gates, sent to protect us, could destroy The Grove if they so wished. Let alone the army that camps just beyond the hills.”
I swallow hard. “I saw them.”
“Then you understand. The Legion of Saints waits. If they learn you’ve returned, it could give them the reason they need to attack. You are the wife of their enemy. You being here without the prince puts us all in danger,” he says, and the weight of his words makes my heart sink. He pauses, realizing the gravity of what he’s just said, and his face softens, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t mean to sound so callous.”
“Then you are failing, miserably,” Erania snaps. “Come, Amara. There are those here who have prayed to the Souls every day for your return, who will celebrate that you are finally home.”
Erania guides me toward the council, her arm still wrapped around me protectively. She is right—their faces are filled with warmth and relief, not a hint of disappointment. They cup myface, press gentle kisses to my brow, murmuring words of love and welcome. But in the corner of my eye, I see Tovar, the man I would pretend was my father as a child, standing apart. His jaw clenched, his mind clearly spiraling with thoughts he hasn’t voiced. His silence, his distance, weighs on me, and suddenly, this homecoming feels like a wish gone wrong, far from the reunion I had hoped for.
Chapter 30
Night descends upon The Grove, blanketing the forest in a peaceful stillness.
I spent the day among my people, sharing stories of my journey across the Untold Sea. All of it lies, of course. I could never tell them the truth—what had been done to me or what they planned to do. The things I saw that haunt me every time I close my eyes.
The prince who betrayed me.
But the tales I spun filled their eyes with wonder and amazement, stories of faraway lands they would never know. I envy them for that ignorance and the illusion of safety it provides.
Zyphoro, unperturbed by any of it, fell asleep as soon as she was shown to her room in a small cottage amongst the branches, drifting off without the slightest resistance. Meanwhile, Solena and I sit around a small fire on the forest floor, the crackling flames casting a warm glow over her face. Ashen, now confident in his new surroundings, weaves in and out between my legs. His soft purrs rising with the night’s quiet hum before hefinally collapses into sleep, exhausted after becoming the main attraction amongst the children of the forest.
“So this is The Grove,” Solena murmurs, her eyes taking in the forest surrounding us, the glow of the flames flickering in her sharp gaze. “It’s very… green.”
“Not to your liking?” I ask, a hint of a smirk on my lips, though my heart feels heavy.
“No. I like it,” she admits, her usual sternness softening just enough. “I like it so much, I’m worried what will happen when the king and prince discover we’re gone.”
I bow my head, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. I reach down, running my knuckle along Ashen’s fur, grounding myself in the simple comfort of his presence. “You’d get along with Keeper Tovar,” I say quietly. “He fears I’ve doomed us all too.”
“You did what you had to,” Solena says, her tone resolute. “We all did. And not for a second do I regret leaving Baev’kalath with you. But we can’t hide here forever. Theywillcome.”
“I know,” I whisper, my voice trailing off as I meet her gaze. “And we must be ready when they do.”
“You cannot defeat the Mordorin,” she says softly, a warning laced in her voice.
“No,” I reply, holding her gaze steady. Solena flinches slightly at the intensity of my stare. “I cannot defeat the Legion either. But I can fight them. With everything I am, everything I have left, I will fight them until my last breath.”
I stand, brushing off the dirt from my clothes. Ashen stirs from his slumber, stretching lazily before pattering after me as I move away from the fire.
“Where are you going?” Solena’s voice is laced with both concern and regret.
“To see my sisters,” I say over my shoulder, glimpsing her confusion before I disappear into the vines, leaving the warmth of the fire and the quiet of the night behind me.
Beyond the heart of the forest lies a clearing that, at first glance, seems perfectly ordinary. Tall trees circle the space, their shadows stretching over soft grass blanketed with delicate purple flowers. I sit cross-legged at its center, gazing at the stars peeking through the gaps in the canopy. The familiar moon, once a guiding light, now feels like an enemy. The wind rustles the grass, brushing against me as Ashen curls up by my side, his smoky form becoming a constant comfort.
The rune around my neck pulses softly, casting brief flashes of green into the darkness. With each heartbeat, it grows brighter until, with a sudden surge, a blinding light sweeps through the clearing, and I find myself somewhere else—though I haven’t moved an inch.
Here, the woods are darker, denser. The trees stand like ancient sentinels, their gnarled, twisted branches draped with thick moss, casting eerie shadows. Their bark pulses with green threads, glowing faintly as if veins of light run through their core. The air hums with energy, thick and heavy, as though the very magic of the forest has come alive. The power here is more than just a sound or sight—it thrums beneath my skin, a force I cannot ignore.
And there, before me, stands the shrine. A massive tree whose ancient branches have woven themselves into a perfect circle.Suspended within the circle is a shimmering web, delicate yet strong, its strands aglow with fluorescent green light while runes etched across the web pulse with a mysterious energy, their power undeniable.
Huddled around the base of the shrine are my sisters—Lira, Mirael, and Saren—standing hand in hand. They turn toward me, sensing my presence even before I make a sound.
“Amara,” Lira greets me with a warm smile, her rosy cheeks a sight I had almost forgotten.
Their arms reach for me, and I stumble to my feet, falling into their embrace as if I’ve leapt off a cliff. We stand together in silence, holding each other close for what feels like an eternity. No words pass between us because none are needed. The bond we share speaks louder than any language could.
