“It’s going to land,” Elora whispers, her shoulder pressing tightly into mine from where we’ve lined up against the cave wall, Cass on my other side. The sound of my heartbeat races in my ears, and I don’t allow myself to overthink the movement when I reach out to hold her fingers with my own.
Cass slides his largest blades from their sheaths at his thighs, angling his body so that he is shielding both of ours.
“What are you—”
“Shh!” His command echoes in the cave just as another growl dances above the sound of the ocean waves, making my stomach clench tight with dread. The leathery snap of the dragon’s wings slowing its descent is louder than I could have imagined, but the creature still sends clumps of damp sand flying into the air whenit lands. Dark green scales shimmer beneath the sunlight as it looks around, tucking its wings in tightly to its side.
“It’s alone,” Elora says, her voice shaking as she squeezes my hand.
I nod as I watch over Cass’s shoulder, the dragon sniffing the air before its head snaps in our direction, the three of us stiffening. Its tail, tipped in two spikes longer than I am tall, thumps against the ground, and my magic pushes at my chest at the threat in front of us. But none of us possess enough magic to protect us from adragon.
I search it’s back for a rider, but find none, and as the dragon prowls slowly closer, I begin to wonder if my father would mourn my death. Or if he would be as callous about it as he was about my mother’s.
The dragon passes over the glass multiple times with mild interest, sniffing at the spot we broke the large piece before moving on. Then, finally, it lowers onto its haunches before leaping into the air, its massive wings flaring out wide as they pump to bring the beast higher. We wait until its shadow disappears, then wait some more to ensure it won’t come back.
I’m the first to break the silence. “We spend a few minutes searching for more glass, and then we get the fuck back into the forest.” I’m grateful when neither Elora nor Cass push back. We bolt from the cave—Cass stopping to carefully load the broken dragon glass into a satchel, while Elora and I return to the spot where she found the piece.
Our movements are frantic, our hands swishing sand out of the way in every direction as we look. Elora finds the next piece, this one about half the size of the first. She rushes off to hand it to Cass, while I move a few more feet to my left, my breath seizing in my chest when my hand brushes against something smooth beneath a layer of sand. It’s even smaller than Elora’snewest piece, only about a foot in length, but I bring it to Cass, Elora already back to searching again.
“I’m going to let Nox know we found some,” Cass says, bringing two fingers to his mouth as he lets out a pattern of high-pitched whistles in short succession. Seconds pass, but eventually, a small black raven that followed us from Galdr flies from the treeline near the beach, landing on a small rock near Cass. “Here, take the bag.” He hands me the satchel filled with dragon glass, the pieces clinking together as I haul it over my shoulder. Cass pulls a piece of parchment out of his personal pack as well as a spelled pen and begins to draft his letter before I turn and rejoin Elora.
Together, she and I find enough glass to fill up the satchel, and all I can do is hope that it will be enough to repair the Mirror, as I’m ready to leave the beachnow.
Cass whistles three times, and the raven takes off, now with the parchment tied around its leg. I watch it fly high in the sky, passing over the trees before disappearing altogether.
“Let’s go,” I command, Elora stepping up to my side as Cass tucks his pen back into his pack.
A deep, harrowing growl cuts our steps short, Elora stumbling at my side as her eyes grow wide. My gaze immediately turns skyward, heart leaping into my throat as I expect to see the outstretched wings of a dragon. But then the ground beneath my boots rumbles, and when that low, throaty snarl sounds again, there is no mistaking the direction it comes from.
We all turn to face the cave, Cass in front of Elora and I, his chest heaving as he retrieves his blades. Past him, two yellow eyes wink to life against the darkness of the space we had been hiding in, and a dragon—larger than the one that had landed earlier—prowls from the cave’s mouth. Fear unlike any I’ve ever felt before paralyzes my limbs, my magic pressing against myskin as the black dragon lowers its head, revealing the fae sitting on its back, a silver sword grasped in his hand.
“Well, what have we here?” His onyx hair rests at his shoulders, pointed ears poking through the strands as he glares down at us, his dragon pulling its lips back to reveal a collection of sharp teeth. “It seems we have trespassers amongst us.”
Chapter Ninety-Two: Rhea
Mykneeshitdew-coveredgrass as I collapse to the ground, cold moisture seeping in through the thick wool of my skirt and biting into my skin. My head swims in the wake of the severed tether to my magic, leaving my ears ringing as my heart beats slowly in my chest.A battalion.That’s what I’ve been commanded to heal daily, and though I knew in theory just how many men that could include, the concept was lost on me until I came to their training grounds and stood before them for the first time.
Up to a thousand men fill each battalion, and the Mortal Kingdom’s army hasdozensof battalions. I’ve lost count of both the days that have passed and the number of battalions I’ve healed since King Dolian’s demand that I do so.
“That’s enough,” Xander says, kneeling at my side.
I can’t help the raw, crazed laugh that scrapes up my throat. “You don’t get to decide that.” Only the magic does, once it feels I have hit the quota decided for me by my uncle.
Xander sighs, his hand reaching out as if to help me up but stopping short. His care has been constant through all of this, his presence always quiet and steady even if the tension between us is still tender and rough. Though, if I am being honest with myself, a lot of the anger that brewed within me when I thought of the commander has become dulled beneath the repetitive schedule the king keeps me on. Everything feels that way, as if I myself have become muted.
“Rhea.” The concern in his voice washes over me, his breath wasted on it.
Pushing myself up to stand, and I wonder what sort of expression I’d meet if I lifted my gaze to his. If it’d match the worry in his voice or if he’d be exasperated with me. If he’d ask me again what he can do to help or if he’d try to get me to come with him to a meeting with his resistance. But I don’t contemplate long on those thoughts before they dissipate, the urge to speak with him lost to the way I just wish I could lie down.
Then again, sleeping sounds wonderful in the way that all things that once brought me comfort do. Maybe that’s why my body tenses when I close my eyes. Or attempt to lift the corners of my mouth. Or when Nox pops into my mind without warning. It isn’t that I don’t want those things; it’s just that they serve as bitter reminders of how everything has changed. Still, sleep isan escape. Even if it’s only moving me from one nightmare to another.
“We need to get you back inside,” Xander says, silently guiding me with a gentle hand on my elbow. My steps are shaky as I force myself forward, the allure of crawling into bed strong enough to move my feet.
Moving these sessions from the garden alcove to the heart of the training grounds had meant abandoning any modicum of privacy in favor of reaching King Dolian’s goal faster. A goal that I have no idea how close I am to accomplishing. But to combat the open display of my magic, the king had ordered the castle wing facing the training grounds off limits under the guise that it was nowmine. This had apparently stirred some discontent with the noblemen and noblewomen, and instead of directing their anger to the man who had put the rule in place, they turned it on me. Though I hardly went anywhere besides my chambers, the dining hall, and the training yard, snide whispers and hard glares followed me regardless. The realization that there werealsowomen in this castle angry over the fact that the king wanted me as his wife over them or their daughters left me torn between wanting to laugh at the absurdity and wanting to cry because of the same.I don’t want him. I don’t want to be queen. If you only knew who I was. If you only knew what I’ve been through…
But what I think and feel doesn’t matter. Not to them and not to the king.
“Wait.” Xander slows his steps to a stop as we walk beneath a large tree, its branches arching over the walkway and providing a semblance of seclusion. “We need to talk.”
