Ailan parried his sword just in time, moving as swift and as smooth as the night breeze.
Never had Ailan looked so unlike the elderly Nalia Cora had known.
She could trust this warrior to hold her own.
Cora had a job to do. People to protect. And an entire world to seal away.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and left the fray behind.
* * *
The hair roseon the back of Larylis’ neck as sounds of battle clashed farther down the coast. The clang of steel was too loud, too near the most precious location of all. The hidden tear just north of his post. Mere minutes ago, he’d witnessed an enormous black dragon—the same that had attacked Ridine—appear out of nowhere at the edge of the cliff with a rider on his back.
The blond-haired Elvyn stationed at Larylis’ side had tensed at the pair’s appearance, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword. Not in fear of the dragon or its rider but yearning. Frustration. Impatience.
Fanon wanted to defend that rider. Ailan. The Elvyn who was his consort.
Though Larylis and Fanon could communicate, courtesy of the charm hanging from one of his gauntleted wrists, the Elvyn had said very little to Larylis since they’d taken their positions. Yet even without words, Larylis understood him, could read the terror etched on his face as he watched Ailan in the distance. She and the gray-haired man had been locked in combat for several minutes now, the latter’s moves impossibly fast. Fanon’s tense posture mirrored Larylis’ own. They both wished they could be elsewhere—Fanon defending Ailan, Larylis defending Mareleau—yet both had taken up the duty to protect the location of the tear and intercept anyone who got too close.
Already the battle was creeping this way.
Soon they would need to act. Fight. Protect.
Larylis could hardly believe this was happening. No textbook had ever described anything close to this. There were no kings he could emulate, no warriors he could try to embody. Never had he read about a bastard who’d become king, only to relinquish his crown to save two worlds and be with the people he loved. Never had humans fought alongside Elvyn warriors to protect fae magic.
The nearest fighters continued to clash, though the enemy troops soon outnumbered the allies. Larylis’ squad could no longer remain in waiting, nor could Fanon’s.
“We join,” Fanon said, his words translated through the charm.
Larylis tightened his jaw and forgot every great king he’d ever admired. Every line of text he’d ever used to construct an ideal version of himself—a standard he could never reach. Instead, he thought of Mareleau, Noah, and everything he held dear.
All he could be was himself.
That was enough.
Larylis Alante, battle on Khero’s western coast, Year 171 of the Dragon. Loved his family more than life. Destroyed their enemies until victory was his.
He lifted his hand and signaled his soldiers to charge.
55
Cora returned to the battlement she’d left not long ago, though now it stood empty. Teryn, his guards, and the enemy squad were nowhere to be seen. Yet sounds of fighting blared all around; she’d traded one active battlefield for another. Even though her destination lay at Centerpointe Rock, she needed to ensure Ridine was safe. That, and she’d promised to take Teryn with her when the time came to push themorafrom the human world. It could be too dangerous for her to attempt the feat alone. If anything went sideways, if themoraoverwhelmed her or she began to harness it when she was supposed to push it back, she could depend on Teryn to anchor her.
She peered over the parapet to find a sea of mist and blood. The mist came from the hazy figures of the warrior wraiths that swarmed the grounds, hacking down Darius’ fighters, their semi-transparent weapons making muted thuds against their opponents’ swords and armor.
Her archers shot arrows into the melee, picking off more of the enemy fighters one by one. The vicious, bloody fight turned her stomach, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel remorse. Not when the tides were in her favor.
Not when the win was hers.
Teryn had made the right call in choosing this battle as the wraiths’ final fight. With Darius’ men already inside the castle walls, Khero’s chances of victory would have been slim without them.
She hurried away from the parapet and entered the stairwell leading down from the battlement. Opening her senses, she sought Teryn’s location. To her relief, his energy pulsed back, not too far from where she was now. As she exited the stairwell, the clang of steel met her ears. She unsheathed her dagger—the only weapon on her person now that Darius had wrested her bow from her—and crept toward Teryn’s energy as well as the sounds of conflict.
She fled down the hall, noting bodies strewn here and there. Most of them belonged to the enemy squad, but one corpse at the end of the hall was a member of her royal guard.
Her heart clenched.
She rounded the corner at the end of the next corridor and finally caught sight of motion. Captain Alden was engaged in combat with one of Darius’ men, as were several more of her guards. Another bout took place down the next stairwell, the only sign being the clash of blades and the sway of the fighters’ shadows against the stone wall, cast by the light burning in the sconces.
