“I have no idea what this is capable of,” I remind him, holding the amulet in my fingers. “But what other choice do we have?” We’re running out of time.
Sorin nods and takes my hand. “Get closer,” I tell wolves and they do, huddling as close to me as they can. “Now, to the Onyx Guild?”
Sorin scratches his chin, his stubble more pronounced these days.“I imagine by now that Samaria has either frightened the Guild members off or she has convinced them to help.” His eyes meet mine. “Which would mean she won’t be at the Onyx Guild.”
At my puzzled look, Sorin takes my hand, lacing our fingers. “We have to go to Valebridge.”
Forty-Six
Roman
Valebridge is coveredin an unfaltering mask of gray when we arrive. The white pumpkins that lined the drawbridge have been cleared, the last of the Autumn Moon swept away. The council stood in my absence, making sure everything has run the same as before. A small part of me wonders if I’ve ever been needed at all.
“Happy to see you, Your Majesty.” Councilman Horrice nods as I take my place at the head of the table. “We trust your trip went well, considering your early arrival? We weren’t expecting you for several more days.”
I open my mouth to speak but, of course, Galen does so for me.
“Weather was turning on us.” He slides into the chair next to me. “We made the choice to end the Dyrsjel hunt a bit early.”
A few of the older council members scoff and whisper. Likely debating how much truth lies within Galen’s explanation. I suppose it’s all true. Minus the very large detail about the dozens of guards and hunters who are now dead from Elora’s hands. I stiffen as his hand lands on my leg under the table. Through gritted teeth, I brush it off and focus on the council.
“Let’s make this brief,” Galen says. “The Dyrsjel is still out there and she’s dangerous. Without her magick, we won’t be able to pull from Mother Gaia directly. We need her ability to wield the Stones to continue harvesting magick?—”
“And what do you propose?” Councilwoman Maeve sits forward, the gold rings on her dark fingers reflect in the low light of the councilroom. “We have spared dozens of guards, not to mention the man-power it’s taken to train and disperse hunters throughout Teravie. Our resources and expenses aren’t expendable, Sir Galen. There is only so much we, and the people of Valebridge, are willing to give to continue this cat and mouse chase.” Her brows pinch together and my spine stiffens. She smooths the lapels on her navy robes. Her dark hair is cropped short, and when she catches me staring, she smirks. “Perhaps it’s time we take this issue to another vote.”
Galen laughs as he shrugs but his hands twitch in his lap. “We already did vote after Silas’ passing five years ago. We voted that controlling the Stones ourselves would put an end to reckless use of magick. It would give us the power?—”
Maeve holds out her hand, and Galen snaps his mouth shut. “You are a brilliant young man, Galen. But I wasn’t asking for your permission for a vote.” She glances at me, resting her hands in her lap. “Ultimately, the decision is yours, Your Majesty. But I propose a new vote as to whether or not this pursuit of the Awakening Stones is worth all we have already sacrificed.”
Six sets of eyes land on me, including Galen’s.
His fury rolls off of him like fog but only if that fog was poisonous and deadly. I can feel it in his stare. In the way his body has stiffened next to mine.
For so many years we have made decisions together. Have destroyed the trust of the kingdom for a pursuit of something that was never destined to belong to us. And for what? A falsehope that with the power of the Stones we would be feared. Protected.
“A vote?” I make sure to glance at each member of the council to see if they also share Maeve’s thoughts. When five heads nod back, I let out a long breath.
“All in favor?—”
“No,” Galen snaps. He grabs my arm and turns me so our faces are close enough for him to whisper. “Stick to our plan, little bird.” There’s panic laced in his tone. “We need the Stones, Roman. We’ll have access to magick we haven’t even dreamed of.” His hands tremble as they grip mine but his touch does nothing to soothe me.
Instead, it ignites me.
“You do not decide for me, Galen.” I rip my hand from his and face the council.
“All in favor of ceasing the hunt for the Dyrsjel, say aye.”
Without a second's hesitation, five aye’s sound around the table.
Galen’s face reddens as I turn to him. His eyes meet mine with a glacial rage and as I tip my lips up his brows furrow deeper as I whisper only to him, “Aye.”
Back in my chambers,the air is suffocating as Galen paces silently across the floor. I take a seat on the bed, a new sense of purpose and power running through me.
For the first time in five years, I made the decisions today and that alone holds more power than a stone ever could.
Galen’s boots snag on the corner of the large, navy area rug, and when he nearly trips, he curses and pulls his fingers through his typically manicured hair.
“Why, Roman?”
