Rissa’s Shifter blood had healed her broken bones quickly—tooquickly. They set incorrectly and the healers had to break them again, one by one, and set them before her magic came into effect. She promised me it no longer hurt, that she was only a bit sore. But every time something snapped nearby, she flinched. Every innocent crack had her partially shifting to her fox form in panic. It killed me to watch her, knowing I couldn’t help.
“The same. What about Lark?” I responded.
Lark had not been as lucky as my sister. While Gayl hadn’t caused her as many injuries as he had Rissa, it had still almost been too much for Lark’s body to handle. Several times over the last three days we thought we would lose her. Her Shadow Wielder abilities didn’t afford the same speed with healing. The Alchemists of the palace had stayed by her side around the clock, throwingany and every healing spell and potion and charm they could think of at her.
Rissa gave me a smile, a rare sight these days. “She woke up long enough to drink some water this afternoon. The healers say she’s turning a corner.”
Some good news, at least.
She cleared her throat. “It’s time to go, Leo. They’re waiting on us to start.”
I squeezed Rose’s hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles before setting it back on the white sheets. Rissa and I left the infirmary and made our way to the west entrance of the palace. When we stepped outside and passed the gardens, we were greeted by the sight of a long canvas tent, with men and women in the silver uniform of the Royal Guard standing in a line behind a long, wooden box. A handful of others were gathered together before it, the white and gold colors of Iluze so bright I had to squint against it.
Today was Horace’s funeral. But unlike the fanfare Rose had described Callista’s memorial as, this one was smaller. More intimate. A traditional ceremony of a member of the Guard, with a few friends from his time in the palace and with the Sentinels.
I hated that three of those closest to him couldn’t stand here to send him off. Lark, Chaz, and Rose would never get to say their final goodbyes. My sister took my hand as we stood there, silently sharing in our grief.
We said goodbye to our dear friend, the man who had sacrificed everything to keep his chosen family safe. Horace was the bravest man I’d ever known, and the fact that I would never be able to tell him so, that I’d never get to thank him for saving my sister in that chamber…it overwhelmed me, like a pile of bricks pushing on my chest.
I promised myself that when all of the dust had settled, when all of us stood together once again, we would go out to the Drakin’s Lair and have a drink in his honor. That disgusting sludgehe loved so much. Tocelebrate, not mourn. He would never want that.
Until then, we had work to do. Gayl’s death was merely the beginning, and while I wanted nothing more than to sit by Rose’s bedside until she woke, my sister needed help.
The empire was in an uproar. In just three days, word had spread about Gayl’s demise, leading everyone to question what would happen next. With half of the challengers dead and the third trial left in a state of unknown, the provinces demanded a winner. They demanded their magic. They demanded assurance they would have the power and strength to fight back if this empire fell into ruins. Rumors spread faster than a wildfire, some speaking of provinces rising up against one another, others claiming a false foreign threat waited at our borders.
Gayl’s council had been meeting around the clock since the day after the trial trying to find a solution. Something to appease the provinces until they could get their heads on straight. I didn’t know what they were expecting in terms of an answer, but it certainly wasn’t my sister.
In true Rissa fashion, she had barged into their meeting chamber mere hours after having her bones reset, with her cane reverberating against the floor and fire in her eyes. Begging them to see reason, to put their hysteria aside and work together to bring this empire back to what it was meant to be.
That first moment, that first move, would set the tone for the future. For the path out of this whirlwind of change. And there was nobody else I would trust to pave the way.
She got to work immediately.
The day after Horace’s funeral, we sent word to all the governors of the provinces, explaining what had happened and expelling any rumors. We extended an invitation for them to come to Veridia City to let their voices be heard and be part of these decisions. Every one of them came, except for Drakorum. Still, it was a win. That challenge could be faced later. There were more questions than answers whenit came to the Shifter province, anyway—such as their determination to hide the existence of dragon Shifters, and what they were truly doing with powerful beings such as Nox and his sister Vera.
Rissa and I thought it would take time to convince the governors of our validity and sincerity, but what we weren’t expecting was for some of the members of Gayl’s council to have also been on our father’s council. They remembered Branock and Evadine Aris, how much they had cared for the people and ruled with both firm strength and compassion. And they rememberedus. They gave us a chance, which was all we could ask for.
It was a moment my sister and I had dreamed of for years: being able to clear our father’s name, to tell what really happened that night twenty-seven years ago and watch as the people who had been forced under Gayl’s hold for so long finally saw the truth. At least, part of the truth. I had told my sister the full story of Gayl’s curse and the part my life played in ending it, and she was insistent—as Rose had been—that we keep that secret to ourselves. Always trying to keep me safe. We knew we would have to confront the inevitable eventually, but my sister stayed busy with all the other problems brought to the forefront.
Such as our magic.
We decided to divide the wealth of magic evenly between the provinces for the period of a single year. That would allow us time to figure out what we as an empire wanted the Decemvirate to look like going forward—or if there would evenbea Decemvirate. It was the first step toward peace that was so strongly needed after decades of being pitted against one another.
Not all of the council members were in agreement. There were still several loyal to Gayl and his reign who seemed determined to fight my sister at every step of the way. For now, however, the desire to show a unified front and get back on our feet outweighed any resentment they held for us usurping their former emperor. I feared we would face some obstacles in the future from them, but that was a bridge my sister could cross when she got there.
Two days after the funeral, Lark regained full consciousnessand was able to tell the Alchemists of the palace how to reopen the portal to the island so they could retrieve the bodies of the dead: Salome, Vincent, Alaric, and Callum. Their families and provinces were notified, and the four were given proper burials. Even though Rissa and I hated the idea of their deaths being paraded around, Lark asked that we summon scribes and reporters to spread the news and document it for all provinces to see. She said the empire needed closure on this time, a symbol for the end of this brutal, unprecedented tournament. A way for Veridians to unite and draw together.
Over the next few days, something happened that none of us expected.
Spells began to break, and people began to speak.
First, it was the servants of Gayl’s household. They whispered of the atrocities they’d seen, of the violent way he and his most faithful guards had handled those they deemed lesser than. Then, the guards. The ones who had never been comfortable with their orders but felt compelled to see them through less their families be punished for their actions. Men and women of the Royal Guard like Horace, who had witnessed scandals and murders and vile persecutions that had been covered up. Lords and ladies of the court, those closest to Gayl, confessed their cowardice and showed letters of Gayl’s threats, his blackmail and bribery for their silence.
His death and the death of his magic seemed to have undone the deepest of enchantments he’d cast over the decades. People started convening on palace grounds looking for loved ones who had been captured or killed by Gayl and his men, who’d had the memories of their losses taken away by memory spells. In the last few days, I’d seen countless people fall to their knees in mourning over a lost son or friend or sister or father whom they’d been enchanted to forget years ago, and now relived the trauma fresh in their minds.
With the sorrow came a call for justice. And with that call came the Sentinels.
All over the empire, whispers of the lost Aris heir grew. Plantedby members of our ranks hidden in the provinces, the truth of what happened between Theodore Gayl and Branock Aris came to light. Rumors of what Rissa and our people had been trying to do for the last few years spread. Stories of her bravery, her skill, and her conviction rallied hope in a darkened world. It was like a match had been struck, and in a matter of a mere week, the entire land was set ablaze, eager for change. Eager for things to be made right.
