We of the Grove were never fighters. Why else would we choose a dense, tangled forest for home? Why else would we never cross our borders, never seek alliances or bargain attables of power? We valued preservation above all. The Tenders mend and grow. I will make sure my daughter knows that life. I will not risk losing her or risk her losing me.
We were never creatures of war. This is what the Fae have forced upon us.
Solena grabs my arm. “Come. I know exactly where we can hide.”
I nod, knowing she’s thinking of the same place I am. We tear through the winding halls, shadows dancing in the flickering lightning, the cold stone walls pressing in around us. Behind us, the clang of steel rings out, the roar of battle surges, and anguished cries pierce the air, but whether it’s Ronin’s sword striking true or his last breath escaping, I can’t tell.
We climb the stairs, and my daughter grows restless, clawing at me, squirming in my arms. I press my hand gently against her mouth, muffling her cries; I cannot let them find us. I slip my pinky finger into her tiny hand, and she wraps her delicate grip around it, squeezing tight.
Each tapestry we pass, each burning torch, each blind turn, feels painfully familiar. I remember every crack, every cold surface, from when I first came to Baev’kalath and wandered these halls with Arax, lost in silence and sorrow, memorizing the stone and mourning my fate.
Solena and I move faster now, my breath ragged and sharp in my chest. The heavy doors come into view, the same doors that welcomed me the day I arrived, the ones Arax stormed through with that stubborn scowl, the ones Daed slammed shut in fury or closed softly before pulling me into his arms.
We’re almost there. But then, that voice slices through the storm, unwelcome and relentless.
“Found you!” Nyraxes screams.
I glance back to see her in pursuit, half her face soaked in blood, clutching a wound in her stomach. Blood seeps between her fingers, slowing her body, but not her hunger to hunt me down.
I glance beyond her, searching for a familiar flash of blond hair or blue eyes, a scarred face, but there’s nothing. If Nyraxes lives, he does not.
Solena reaches the door first and pushes it open, but I come to an abrupt halt.
She arches a questioning brow. “What are you doing? Come on!”
I shake my head, rocking my daughter as she stirs in my arms.
“Fine. Fight then,” Solena snaps. “Just hand me the baby. I suppose I’ll have to raise her and tell her every day how she had fools for parents.”
When I do as she asks, she stares at me stunned, and a thick silence falls. She holds my baby close, rocking her gently against her chest.
“I wasn’t serious,” she finally murmurs.
“You’re always serious,” I reply, a faint smile tugging at my lips. My mind drifts, wondering what lies ahead, what fate awaits. I glance down, flickers of green flame stirring at my fingertips.
“Tell her some good things about me,” I whisper.
Solena lifts her chin, defiant. “Tell her yourself after you’ve killed Nyraxes.”
With that, she slips inside the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
I stand alone, as Nyraxes stalks toward me, her blade scraping the stone floor with a metallic rasp, her limp leg barely slowing her relentless advance.
“This will solve nothing,” I say, voice steady though my heart pounds beneath my ribs. “Your brother is dead. You risk the annihilation of your house if you challenge me.”
She laughs then, harsh and bitter, blood bubbling over her teeth like poison. “Challenge?” The word spits from her lips, cruel and mocking. “I doubt I’ll break a sweat.”
Still, I reach for the path of peace, for my daughter’s sake. “It doesn’t have to end this way. Let us talk.”
“I do not negotiate with humans!” she shrieks, eyes blazing. “They are dogs and slaves, nothing more. I put them down all the same. This war is your fault. Can you not see it? Before you came, the thrall houses followed Mordorin. We were loyal. We held the Sundered Kingdoms. Now look at us. Depleted, broken, dead. All because of you.”
Her gaze sweeps over me, revolted. “You’re not even the prettiest human I’ve seen. But I’ve heard whispers…there’s magic in you.” She leers. “Do you keep it between your legs? An enchanted cunt, perhaps?”
The cruel laughter that follows cuts like shards of ice, but then she keels over mid-guffaw, coughing violently before spitting clots of blood onto the stone. She struggles to compose herself, breath ragged as she rises, half bent.
“Looks like you’re bleeding from the inside,” I say quietly. “That’s a horrible way to go. Slow, painful. I wish I had the time to watch every moment.” Flames flicker to life between my fingers, green and fierce. “But I’ve wasted enough time on your petty threats.”
Her eyes widen, fixating on the fire. “What are you?”
