Furthermore, he was a worldwalker. Giving him access to El’Ara wouldn’t keep him out of the human world, and she couldn’t trust the fae realm was all he wanted. She had to remember Darius was the one to first use the term Morkaius, not his son. He didn’t want to simply manage the flow of magic throughout El’Ara like the Morkara was meant to. He wanted to be High King of Magic. He wanted to control and take. If he wasn’t content with all he’d gained there, he could take his new powers and turn them against the human world. Even if Cora negotiated an alliance for the safety of her people, could she bear the burden of what else he might do to other kingdoms? Other people?
Darius could never have what he truly wanted unless Noah was dead.
“No,” Cora said. “The only way to truly protect our world is to stop Darius entirely.”
“What happens after you stop him?” Maiya asked. “Mother said Lela is a piece of El’Ara. That it is the heart of the fae realm. What happens to this land after you defeat Darius? Will the Elvyn seal the tear and leave us alone? Or will they fight to take Lela away from us?”
Cora’s breath caught. That was a question she hadn’t considered. “I don’t know. But I promise you, I will do whatever I can to protect this kingdom and this land.”
Maiya held her gaze, but there was no hope in her eyes. Doubt rolled off her in waves. Cora could see herself the way her friend saw her now—young, small, and very much in over her head. Maiya had always believed in her, always encouraged her, but what she was facing went beyond Cora’s capabilities. She knew that. But Cora wasn’t alone. She had Teryn. Mareleau and Larylis. Even Lex and the Norunian rebels he was supporting. She had alliances she could count on, and she was about to forge a new one with the Elvyn. It was daunting. Maybe even impossible.
But she would give it her all.
Maiya’s face crumpled, and her chest heaved with a sob. “I really am happy to see you. You will always be a sister in my heart. Please believe me. I didn’t want to have this conversation. I never wanted it to be like this. It’s just?—”
“I know, Maiya.” She reached for her friend and pulled her into an embrace. “I know. You don’t have to explain.”
She didn’t need Maiya to say another word. She understood fully. It was time for a final goodbye. Time to close the door on six years of her life and the people who made her the witch she was today.
Maiya sobbed onto Cora’s shoulder, but Cora kept her eyes dry, refusing to add her own emotions to the medley filling the tent. Instead, she opened herself to her friend’s grief, her fear, her hopes, and memorized every painful inch of it. That way she could carry it with her. That way she could remember, as she faced the inevitable challenges that lay ahead, what she was fighting for.
30
Mareleau hoped she was at the right tent. She stood before the leather flap that served as a door, Noah cradled in one arm, her free hand raised in a fist, only to realize there was no point in knocking on such a soft material. And she couldn’t very well barge in, for there was still the question of whether thiswasthe right tent. It should have been easy to find. Not only was it the same tent Salinda had brought them to upon arriving last night, but Cora had pointed it out from the wagon that morning, before she’d left to find Valorre and Berol.
She hated feeling awkward like this, but she was fully out of her element. Here it hindered more than helped that she was queen. Here she couldn’t rely on being waited upon. She’d spent the night in a godsforsaken wagon, after all, on a cramped bed. The accommodations had been smaller than the traveling coach she’d ridden to Ridine in, yet Ailan had offered it to her and Cora like it was some high honor.
Mareleau shook the thoughts from her head, reminding herself that if anything would serve her around the Forest People, it was humility.
So she cleared her throat and adopted as pleasant a tone as she could. “Salinda? Are you?—”
“Come in,” came the woman’s voice from inside.
She hesitated. This was normally the part where someone else would open the door for her. But no, of course that wouldn’t happen here. She lifted the tent flap and awkwardly shuffled inside.
“Mareleau.” Salinda greeted her with a warm smile. It was strange being on a first-name basis with a stranger, but of the few Forest People she’d met, she liked Salinda best. The woman’s grin looked tired as she gestured for her to take a seat on her pile of furs. Mareleau accepted the seat, finding it far more comfortable than she expected.
Salinda strolled to the bed where she was packing items into a bag. “I was just getting some things ready for you. Extra swaddling, absorbent moss, a carrying sling, and lactation herbs.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh…that bag is for me?”
“I figured we might have some items you wouldn’t have had where you’re from.”
She was right about that. She hadn’t heard of the latter three items. “Thank you. That’s…rather kind of you.”
Salinda smiled over her shoulder. “You may be a queen and part of some great prophecy, but you are still a mother. And he, whether the heir to a human kingdom or the Morkara of the fae realm, is still just a baby.”
For some reason, those words warmed Mareleau’s heart. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to be reminded that she was more than the subject of a prophecy. More than a royal. Her identity was her own.
Salinda put the last item in the bag and sat at the edge of her bed. “But that isn’t why you came here, is it?”
“No.” Mareleau shifted in her seat and Noah began to fuss.
“May I?” Salinda leaned forward, extending her heavily tattooed arms.
Mareleau didn’t love when other people held Noah, but she also could use a break. She hadn’t had one since Salinda held him last night. Carefully she transferred her son to Salinda, then nestled back into the furs. Salinda began bouncing and speaking to him in a sing-song voice, which halted his mewling protestations.
“I was hoping,” Mareleau said, “you could teach me about casting wards with my magic.”
