Prologue
KING ÉREBO OF HOUSE NIKAO, RULER OF THE SHADOW FAE
The king trudged across the snow-covered land, his destination a city of frost and malice. During the daylight hours, every step through the glittering snow and crusted ice proved laborious. But he knew it was only a matter of time before shadows stretched over the glistening landscape. Then he could move faster. Stronger.
And once night came, he’dsoaron wings made of shadows. Wings that did not tire or succumb to the cold when darkness ruled over light. Wings that allowed him to fly far faster than wings made of blood and thin, flexible bones and tender membranes.
In those fleeting hours of the night prior, the king had relished in the freedom he hadn’t felt in so very long. The freedom his mate had stolen from him. Had Sassa Falk still lived, King Érebo would hunt her down and make her pay, but as it were, he would have to settle for the next best thing.
With each step, the King of Shadows, of fae long banished from this world, drew closer to King Magnus. Closer to revenge. Together, the Kings of Winter and Shadows would cripple Sassa’s line and drive it into the frozen ground.
After his enemies drifted to the afterworld, the Shadow King would set about bringing his people home and unleashing their glorious darkness upon Isila.
Just as it should have been so very long ago.
Chapter 1
NEVE
Istared at the Drassil tree in Valrun’s courtyard, wondering where the Shadow Fae King lurked. If he’d found King Magnus yet.
Or did the fae we’d accidentally freed have different plans?
As if it enjoyed my musings about the king who had unlocked it, my shadow magic roiled beneath my skin, unseen, but starkly felt. Dark and oily and foreign. My wings tightened, and, hoping to distract my wandering mind, I focused on the crowd.
The fae standing before us were the only soldiers we had until we reunited with the Dergian forces. In total, that amounted to two hundred fighting fae out of the three hundred and fifty rebels. Not nearly enough, if something should happen in the next few days.
“The Shadow King said he saw our base through the network of Drassil trees.” Thyra spoke to the crowd of loyal fae, her face hard and tight.
The events under the mountain had been traumatizing for everyone involved, but Thyra was taking it especially hard. She’d lost two loyal rebels and friends, Ulfiel and Xillia, to ice spider barbarity.
“That’s how he knew about me,” Thyra said. “About all of you, too. Now he’s free from that tree and prowling through the kingdom, likely on the move for Avaldenn.”
“Howdid the Shadow Fae see through the trees, though? He’s alive, not Faetia, right?” On delicate navy wings, a pixie rose above the rest. Small though he was, his tinny voice cut through the vast room.
“I don’t know.” Thyra tossed back her long black hair. “Neve?”
“I’m not sure either.” My voice broke from disuse. Thyra had done most of the talking for the last half an hour, with only Prince Thordur and Princess Bavirra introducing themselves to the stunned crowd. As if learning that a Shadow Fae King had been living in our kingdom for millennia wasn’t enough, the rebels were learning of the survival of the Dergia on the same day.
I cleared my throat. “But talking to him was not like speaking to the Faetia, which I have done before.”
“How exactly are the trees connected?” the pixie prodded.
His question was justified. Most fae had seen a Drassil, many might have touched one, but spoken to the tree and the spirits within? Few could claim such a thing, and those who could, would likely still be lost. Mystery cloaked Drassil trees. I suspected even the Grand Staret in Avaldenn, a fae learned of the gods and the stars and all things in the great beyond and afterworld, could not comprehend our experience.
“I don’t know exactly how they’re connected, only that they are. Which is why neither Thyra nor I should touch the one out there.” I gestured to the courtyard. “Some fae with winter magic can sense others with the same magic if they touch the tree, so us laying a finger on the bark might alert the king to our location.”
“A Shadow Fae doesn’t have winter magic,” someone called out.
They could say the same about winter fae not having shadow magic, and they’d be wrong. Still, in this instance, I believed the speaker was right.
“You’re probably correct, and I certainly can’t explain how King Érebo lived in a tree for so long, let alone how he viewed the rest of the kingdom through other trees. I’m sorry to have so few answers.”
“Prince Vale?” Thyra cut a sidelong glance to my mate, who stood at my other shoulder. Vale shrugged, so my twin continued.
“Perhaps we’ll learn more of the mystery of the trees later. If so, we’ll keep you informed, but what you need to know now is that after we gathered the injured, we flew back here and held a meeting.” My twin swallowed. “A consensus was reached quickly. Valrun is no longer a safe place. Rumors and fear of the curse upon this town will not protect us. Not when the Shadow King is likely seeking King Magnus.”
“You’re sure about that?” a rebel asked.
