“So,” he said quietly, “remember when I told you I’d take all you’ve got? Looks like I meant it more than I knew. Turns out… you’ll be the one taking what’s left of me.”
Chapter 23
“Home sweet home,” Rhodes said from atop his horse.
I stared into the distance, baffled. We had left the Crossroads early that morning and hadn’t stopped since. By the sun’s position, it was nearly midday—yet the dirt path we’d been following ended abruptly in front of us.
Nash nudged his horse past me and continued forward… straight into nothing. Rhodes and Fallon followed without hesitation, leaving me frozen in place. Overhead, the rush of wings made me glance up—Noemi and Lakota soared past, heading in the same direction.
I opened my mouth to question their sanity when a bridge shimmered into existence over a narrow stream, revealing itself the moment Nash’s horse set a hoof upon it.
My jaw went slack.
Fallon and River followed Nash across the bridge, but Rhodes reined in his horse and turned to face me. Tiny purple insects drifted lazily around his head, their bioluminescent glow dancing in the shade, as if welcoming newcomers to their hidden home.
Beyond the stream, the forest unfolded like something from a dream. Trees towered with radiant bark I couldn’t describe, their leaves painted in shifting shades of violet and sapphire. The grass gleamed a deep, lush green, made brighter by the stark contrast of the pale, dry terrain on our side of the water.
I glanced left and right. The stream stretched endlessly in both directions, wrapping the strange woodland in a perfect curve—an unbroken, natural barrier.
“The Shadow Glade is warded,” Rhodes explained. “The enchanted garden acts as its shield, only allowing those who already know it exists to step inside.”
“But I—” My voice caught. “I’ve never been here. How can I see it?”
“I guess that’s another mystery for us to solve,” Rhodes said, his voice carrying a quiet promise.
I swore the blue in his right eye shone brighter on this side of the wards. This kind of magic… why was it hidden from the rest of us?
According to our history, our land had only ever known elemental magic. The four elements—air, earth, fire, and water—were channeled directly from the Mareki Gem. The arcanist energy that fueled our world was housed in that Gem, supposedly resting somewhere within Mageia. The founders of Mageia War College had erased the truth about the Gem and its location, passing that secret down through generations. I wasn’t sure whether War Chief Kalluri even knew about the true Eternal Tomb… I never got the chance to ask.
But then again, would I have?
He never gave me a proper chance to defend myself or prove who I really was. Instead, he pointed his finger at me, letting others cast blame and brand me as the evil lurking in the halls.
So… probably not.
My hands trembled on the reins. When we left the Hollow, Rhodes offered to let me ride with him. I declined.
As a child, I loved caring for horses. Sometimes, we had one or two in our own stables. When we didn’t, we borrowed from a neighbor to help transport goods from our plot. But after the race… I thought I’d never get close to another horse again.
Then Rhodes invited me to the tavern, which meant facing my fear and trusting him to keep me safe on Dahlia. Choosing to ride my own mount on this journey was another way to face that fear—and, thank the elements, a way to create space between Rhodes and me after I learned of his secret… and the curse.
Hooves clicked against the stone bridge beneath me. The air shifted—a tangible sign we had crossed into the wards of the Shadow Glade. The wind remained brisk, but it seemed to dance around us, as if welcoming us.
Noemi and Lakota soared through the sky above.
“Did you know of this place?” I asked.
“Not until the moment I approached the wards,” Lakota replied. “It felt like… the easing of a forgotten memory. The Shadow Glade is a secret war legion, designed to remain hidden. Its magic fuels the entire ecosystem—this natural world thrives unlike anywhere else I’ve seen.”
“If it’s so incredible, why is it a secret? Why is this one place on our map so…” I searched for the word. “Different from the rest?”
Lakota descended ahead, landing somewhere out of view. I followed the group through the ethereal forest, struggling to keep my jaw from dropping at its beauty. The dense canopy cloakedmost of the sky, but slivers of sunlight filtered through thick leaves, illuminating soft pastels I couldn’t stop staring at.
Soon, the forest thinned, opening to a small, lively village dotted with clay buildings topped by terracotta roofs. The population wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t as sparse as Caydean, my hometown. We passed a building with an open awning showcasing household items. Nearby, a small grocery stood without exterior walls—only a ceiling—as if its owner never feared the rain. Vibrant fruits and vegetables were spread across wooden tables as people picked through fresh bunches.
The warm scent of cinnamon sugar drifted through the air, hijacking my attention. An elderly lady pulled a pan of rounded dough from the oven, each loaf with a hollow circle missing from its center. Her smile brightened when our gazes met. She wiped flour-dusted hands on her apron, wrapped one of the odd-shaped breads in linen, and approached. Stretching as high as her short frame allowed, she offered me the sweet treat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t. I don’t have—” My voice shook.
