She couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. A secret side of her had hoped she’d earn more than just Ferrah’s respect. She’d hoped maybe she’d bond with the creature too. Succeed at what Darius had failed.
“You’ll have plenty of chances to bond with a dragon in the future,” Ailan said, as if she could read Mareleau’s thoughts.
Mareleau opened her mouth to deny such hopes when movement rippled at the mouth of the cavern. The telltale swirl of color warping the air foretold Garot’s arrival. He stepped out of his vortex and folded into a bow at once, hands open at his sides. “Forgive my intrusion, most honored ones.”
Mareleau thought the gesture was for her, Ailan, and Noah, but when he stood, his gaze darted from Uziel to the little beasts who hissed at him from their perches.
Finally, he faced Ailan. “I have an urgent update. Cora has returned, and she’s asked to speak to you at once.”
50
Cora waited in the empty tribunal room, where Garot had brought her. The room was even darker than it had been the last time she was here, as the brightly hued butterflies were nowhere to be seen. The only light came from the dim sconces that lined the curved walls. She wandered the circular floor, her muscles tense. Every minute she was here were several lost in the human world, and she’d already lost close to an hour.
She’d followed the agreed-upon protocol, entering El’Ara discreetly through the tear. There she’d been greeted by the drawn blades of the soldiers who now patrolled the fae side of the tear. After that, she argued over the urgency of her visit, which had been a headache even with the translation charm on the bracelet Fanon had given her. In the end, she’d worldwalked straight to the woods outside the palace, where Garot intercepted her.
She still didn’t know exactly how Garot could locate her so easily. The first time she’d come to El’Ara, he’d told her about the triggers that were woven throughout the land, explaining that was how Satsara had come to meet Tristaine. Yet Cora hadn’t learned more details than that. How did the triggers alert the Elvyn? How did they know the exact location where the trigger had been set off? It was yet more confusing fae technology, much like the impressive bathtub with its drains and faucets.
The door opened to reveal Ailan. And then…
“Mareleau.” Cora hadn’t expected Ailan to bring her, for she’d requested to speak with Ailan alone. Nightmare flames emerged from her memory at the sight of her friend, along with a burning well of guilt, shame, and bitter rage. Her confession echoed in her head.
It should have been her.
She breathed deeply, neither burying the emotions nor trying to push them away. Instead, she let all those feelings move through her without judgment.
When they passed, her body felt lighter.
Mareleau’s expression brightened with a grin, and she met Cora in a one-armed hug. The other arm cradled Noah’s sling. Cora sank into the embrace.
She may harbor resentment for Mareleau, but their friendship was stronger. So much stronger. She hoped Mareleau understood that. Hoped she wouldn’t hate her for what she needed to do next.
“Come,” Ailan said with a gentle squeeze to Cora’s shoulder. She proceeded to the other side of the meeting room and opened an almost imperceptible door. Light flooded from behind it, and Ailan beckoned them to follow her inside.
As soon as Cora crossed the threshold, humid air filled her lungs, much like it had in Syrus. The scent of unfamiliar flowers flooded her nostrils. Glass walls comprised three sides of the small room, inviting in the glow of the setting sun. Potted plants and flowers in every color imaginable cluttered the floor and tables while vines crawled up trellises.
Among all the greenery fluttered the glowing butterflies from the tribunal meeting. They emitted a calming blue light.
“They’re beautiful,” Mareleau said, tone brimming with awe. She strolled to one of the long walls of windows and stared out at the scenery.
Cora, meanwhile, kept close to Ailan, posture stiff. She wasn’t here for a leisurely chat, and a part of her dreaded disappointing Ailan. The woman may look different now, but deep inside Cora still recognized her as Nalia, the High Elder she’d looked up to for six years. A figure whose approval she’d sought.
But Ailan’s approval was not her priority.
Her people were.
A butterfly flew over Cora’s head, its color flashing a yellow-green.
Ailan frowned at the butterfly until it flew away from Cora, its hue returning to blue. She picked up a glass bottle fitted with a pump and nozzle and began to spray the leaves of a climbing vine bedecked with violet flowers. “Did you have any trouble entering the tear? Or getting to the palace?”
“No.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t what she’d come to discuss.
“You saw how many guards I’ve posted at the tear? I have more soldiers stationed throughout the Blight. Did you bring your soldiers to guard the human side?”
Cora’s eyes flashed toward Mareleau. “King Larylis is in a ship nearby with fifty soldiers. I’ll send word to him to discreetly patrol the area around the tear.”
Mareleau whirled away from the window, eyes bright. “Larylis is close by? Can you get a letter to him?”
Cora opened her mouth to answer, but Ailan spoke first.
