ASTRA
It’s Marlak, lying in a prison cell in the Crystal Castle.
But it isn’t him. The way he looks at me is different. I can’t hesitate.
In a second, I attack, throwing him a burst of flame. It’s so small, though, and I feel as if my magic is not reaching him, as if he was blocking or absorbing it.
An ice dagger flies through the bars—and reaches his neck.
The false Marlak closes his eyes, and his body changes. It’s Zorwal, I suppose still healing from being frozen and broken, or perhaps creating a new body.
I increase my fire and engulf him in flames. He emits no yells, no sounds as his body burns. It doesn’t disappear, but turns into some kind of heavy, dark smoke.
“Let’s go,” Azur says, then holds my hand. I take Ziven’s, and remember that I have to transcend to Krastel, to a place where I’ve been before.
In my mind, I see Otavio’s study, that room with the comforting smell of books and potions where I was scolded too many times, but also where I grew up.
We land on the hard floor of Otavio’s empty study.
“Do you think Zorwal’s gone?” I whisper.
Ziven looks around. “If we kill the rest of them, I don’t think he’ll return. Otavio’s not here.”
“He’s in his bedroom.” A vision of him comes to mind. “No. The king’s bedroom.”
The door opens, and a bunch of guards storm in, holding swords. I take Azur’s and Ziven’s hands, and we transcend to my old room, which is thankfully empty.
“I’ve never been there,” I whisper. “It’s a bedroom, and it’s so fancy that I’m assuming it’s in the royal wing, but I’ve never been there.”
“I have,” Ziven whispers. “You’ve been to the throne room, right?”
“Twice.”
“If you get there, I can guide you.”
I recall going to see the king as a little girl, excited to be recognized by him, valued for protecting his daughter. The idea sounds so ridiculous now. My value does not lie in whatever the king recognized in me.
But I remember my excitement, and can return to that place.
The throne room is empty and dark, lit only by the faint moonlight peering through thin curtains. Ziven places a finger in front of his lips, and points at the window, then up.
I understand it now. His plan is for us to climb to the king’s room. We step outside to the ledge, and I turn to Azur. “Can you climb?”
“Obviously.” He sounds so annoyed that I won’t check on him next time.
I glance down to double check for any archers or guards, but nobody’s looking up, and the lights from the garden only make this wall darker compared to the grounds. The stones here are a little different than the ones in the tower where I grew up. Thisbuilding is newer, with a smoother finish and fewer gaps for my hands. Still, in a few seconds I reach the upper ledge, and Ziven reaches out a hand to me. Azur’s already there, crouched with arms crossed, staring at me with a raised eyebrow, as if sayinglook who’s struggling.
Freaking fae and their deft agility. Ziven guides us to the side, then points up at a window, then mouths, “King’s room.”
If Otavio’s not there, I’ll have to check all the royal rooms in the castle. Not the end of the world. If heisthere, I won’t hesitate. From crouched, I straighten my legs slightly, just to peer into the room—and can’t believe my eyes.
Sayanne’s there, her naked body wrapped around him in a loving embrace, her face so peaceful, so… loving. I look at him and meet cold brown eyes staring at me. Shit. Either Ziven or Azur breaks the window and we jump in, while a gust of air reaches us. Otavio’s using magic, and a lot of it. I try to create a flame, but the wind quenches it.
On one of his hands, I see that familiar ring that looks like a stormy sky. A ring that can’t be stolen, and if his last owner was the Krastel King, who was killed…
It should return to the original owner; the Crystal Court crown.
I focus on it, then see it on my finger. Unsure how to use the artifact, I ask it to block Otavio’s magic. The wind stops, and Sayanne comes running, a dagger in her hand, except that a blast of water stops her.
