“He is neither,” Daed replies, cautiously returning his arms around me, wary of any other surprises lurking in my hair.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“He isn’t a kitten. He isn’t a lion. He’s something else entirely. A creature of the void. But he’s loyal to you, at least. I didn’t expect him to attack when I arrived in The Grove that night, but I did tell him to protect you when I made him, so perhaps that’s my fault.”
“He didn’t protect me from Lanneth,” I say, my voice tinged with frustration.
“Sometimes it takes longer for them to understand their form. He’ll grow stronger and shift forms more often now that he knows how.”
As we speak, the rain intensifies against my skin. The boat begins to rock, the waves pounding harder against the bow. Daed closes his eyes as the rain drips from his forehead down the bridge of his nose, and when it trickles onto his lips, he licks it away.
“It’s been some time since I’ve felt the rain.” He opens his eyes, looking down at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod without hesitation.
He smiles. “Very well, wife. I will see you soon.”
With that, Daed’s wings erupt from his back, and in an instant, he soars into the air, disappearing into the silvery-gray clouds.
Time passes slowly in his absence, but when an eternal night falls over the ship and thunder cracks overhead, splitting the sky with flashes of lightning, I know we have arrived.
The rain beats down relentlessly as the fortress of Baev’kalath looms on the horizon, a jagged silhouette waiting to swallow me whole. My heart thrums in my chest, a wild drumbeat of anticipation and dread. Death could very well await me within those stone walls, yet I can’t let fear take hold. No, I won’t allow it. I have come too far and lost too much to turn back now.
The cold wind whips through my hair, but the chill I feel is not from the elements. I remember Arax, and the pain of his loss aches in my chest. I can’t let his sacrifice be in vain. The thought of revenge fuels me, igniting a fire in my belly. I want to make The Golden Son pay for the destruction he’s wrought. I want justice for my people, for Arax, and for myself. The Mordorin have the power I need, and there is no other option but to take it from them.
With each passing wave, my resolve strengthens. I will not back down. I will not falter. I will claim my destiny. The fortress looms closer, and I can feel the energy crackling in the air, the anticipation building. I am ready.
I cast my eyes to the stormy sky, anxiety coiling in my stomach as I wait for Daed's return. His absence gnaws at me, and the worst fears creep in—what if something has happened? But I refuse to believe that any force in this world could take him down or keep him from me. My doubts about his loyalty may linger, but not his love. That Fae’s heart belongs to me, fractured as it is.
Zyphoro slinks across the deck, smoke enveloping her with each step, transforming her leathers into black-scaled armor adorned with jagged pauldrons and vambraces, a flowing cloak of midnight billowing behind her. Her moonstone necklace glimmers against the dark steel, and for the first time, her hair isn’t a mass of ebony curls but tightly braided against her scalp.
She stands beside me, her gray eyes fixed on Baev’kalath, before shifting to the seven Blades at the bow, their gaze darting back and forth between us, whispers escaping their lips.
“They mean to betray us,” Zyphoro says, a grin curling her lips. “As soon as we dock, they’ll flee to the fortress.”
“They’ve sworn loyalty to Daed,” I argue, but Zyphoro’s conviction doesn’t waver.
“They’re still the king’s Fae. As long as my father wears the crown, he commands the Ebon Flight.”
“But they fight alongside Daed in battle. Does that count for nothing?”
“The Blades are the finest warriors in the Sundered Kingdoms. Their strength is forged in loyalty. They couldn’t fight like they do without being devoted to their cause. They followed Daed in Valorne because he was sovereign there. But until he takes the crown from our father, Kaelus’ power is absolute in Baev’kalath.”
As the Blades turn their backs on us to cast their gazes toward the fortress, doubt settles in my gut. If the Ebon Flight doesn’t rally to their prince’s side, it leaves just the four of us—Daed, Zyphoro, Solena, and me—to face the might of House Mordorin. How can we possibly succeed?
Another crack of lightning splits the sky, illuminating the night like day, and a wall of Blades lines the courtyard, their faces obscured in the flickering dark, rain spraying against their armor. Solena emerges from below deck, her eyes wide with fear as she surveys the formidable presence of Baev’kalath's army.
“They knew we were coming,” I murmur.
“They knew,” Zyphoro replies. “And they feared it enough to be ready.” She glances up at the sky. “If my brother is waiting for a dramatic entrance, now would be the time.”
“He will come,” I assert, my voice ringing clear against the thunder. “All I need to do is call.”
Zyphoro exhales mockingly. “Then be quick about it, or we’ll be slaughtered before we even set foot off this damned boat.”
The ship rolls into port, and the smoke that guided us evaporates into nothingness.
“What should I do?” Solena asks, her usually steady tone trembling.
