Elyria’s jaw flexed. “So, all of this—the war, the breaking of the world, the Chasms—was because of a single random person’s choice?Because someone thought hiding the princess would protect her?”
“Nothing is so simple as to come down to one singular choice, least of all an event so monumental it echoes through the annals of time. The princess’s caretaker chose to hide her away, just as Malakar chose to enact his villainous plan, just as Daephinia chose to wield her terrible grief.”
Elyria snorted, her hand tightening around the fragmented crown she still held. “Grief. As if that is an excuse to rage upon an entire realm. Weallgrieve.”
Cedric thought he saw her eyes flick to him once more, but it was too fast to be sure.
“Then you should know better than most how grief can make monsters of us all,” Aurelia said, another flash of that almost-human sadness touching her features.
Silence fell over the three of them for several moments before Cedric asked, “So the other half of the crown was given to Selenae?”
Aurelia nodded once more.
“And where is she now? Why has she not come forward? Why have we not heard a single thing about her all these years?”
“You ask the right questions, but I’m afraid I do not have the answers.”
Elyria shifted on her feet, her shoulders raised, eyes darting to the amphitheater stairs as if reminding herself where the exit was. “If there’s another piece of the crown out there, how do we know Varyth Malchior hasn’t already gotten his hands on it? How many people know about this?”
“None that I know of,” said Aurelia.
“Wonderful. Very reassuring.” Elyria scoffed. “Howwouldyou know? You’ve been trapped in here this whole time.”
Cedric inwardly braced for some sort of cosmic retribution to befall Elyria for her blasphemous attitude, but Aurelia just sighed. The celestial seemed...tired.
“The princess was well-hidden,” Aurelia said. “I do not think anyone could have?—”
“Yet somehow you expect us to find her? Find the other half of the crown, reunite it, heal the land,bring the dawn?” Elyria hissedthe last words.
Another multi-tonal sigh rent the air, and Cedric put a hand on Elyria’s back in a feeble attempt to calm her. He’d half-expected her to whirl on him and smack his hand away, but she just leaned into it with a deep sigh of her own. Like she was exhaling a breath she’d been holding for a long while.
“One piece will lead you to the other,” Aurelia said, voice placid and peaceful once more as she cast a pointed look at the crown piece clutched in Elyria’s hand. The swirling stars on her skin stilled, as though Elyria’s faltering anger had reset the celestial’s mood as well. “I suggest you take it one step at a time, starting with leaving this place.”
Her white robes billowed behind her as she turned and began walking. “Come, victors,” she beckoned. “I may not yet leave this place, but you have earned your freedom from the Sanctum. The others await. It is time for you to go home.”
56
THE PRICE OF VICTORY
ELYRIA
Like before,Aurelia ushered Elyria and Cedric into that winding stone corridor, then disappeared, leaving them to make the return trip alone. Unlike before, the journey back to the Sanctum’s antechamber seemed to take no time at all, possibly due to the fact that Elyria had all but sprinted the entire length of it.
She couldn’t stomach the idea of another leisurely stroll back to the Sanctum—not with their escape from this place finally so close, not without knowing how Kit had been faring since the final trial began. Elyria needed to keep her focus on what was right in front of her.
She dared a quick look over her shoulder. Jogging behind her, Cedric’s face was the epitome of inscrutability. She hated that she couldn’t tellwhat he was thinking.
She was such a hypocrite. Here she was, doing all she could to keep herself from ruminating on all that had happened during the final trial—the choice they’d been forced into, his heartbreaking decision, the dizzying relief that came with bringing him back, and, of course, that kiss. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about howhefelt.
Did he regret it?she wondered. He’d known he was about to die. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to grasp onto one last piece of life with his final moments. Even though the idea of that being all it was made Elyria’s stomach clench painfully.
Right. Forward thinking. Kit. Getting out of here.Those were the things that mattered, the things that were important. Not to mention, they still had to figure out whatever in all four hells they were going to do about the other half of the crown being somewhere out there.
Elyria’s knees nearly buckled the second she stepped foot back in the chamber. Kit was upright, conscious, and appeared to be in the middle of a rather animated conversation with Thraigg. Elyria could see the edges of the red-stained bandage under Kit’s billowing blouse, noted the ashen look on her face, the lingering sweat still dampening her forehead. But she was awake, and she wasalive. The sight of it lifted almost all the remaining weight that had been pressing on Elyria’s shoulders these past twenty-five years.
“You’re back!” Zephyr stood abruptly from a different table, shock written across her green face. As she approached, Elyria noticed the pallor of her skin, the anxious furrow of her brow. It was as though the sylvan was sick with stress. Guilt zipped through Elyria—she could only imagine the toll that all the healing Zephyr had provided the other champions had taken.
Elyria glanced at the crown in her hand. They were nearly done. At last, Zephyr could get the rest she very much deserved—that they all deserved.
