Slade gave a short, humorless laugh. “You? DelayAurelia of Sunspire? I’ll fetch a shovel now for when she buries you in the yard on her way down the mountain.”
“She’s the Chosen One,” I said with a scowl. “If she falls into Heliconia’s grasp…”
Amanti finished for me. “Then the gates will open at Heliconia’s command.”
The fire popped, sending sparks skittering across the hearth. For a moment, none of us spoke.
Amanti rose slowly from her chair. Her wings dragged faintly across the stone, the sound like paper tearing. “She’ll ask again,” she said. “To show her how to open them. And if you refuse, even if it kills her, she’ll try on her own. For Lesha.”
“I know,” I said.
Slade’s gaze lingered on me. “You’ll have to tell her soon,” he said. “About what you are.”
I didn’t look at him. “I know.”
He studied me for a beat longer, then turned and left, the door closing on another gust of cold.
Amanti remained by the fire. “She’ll hate you if you keep this from her.”
“She already does.”
Amanti’s gaze softened, her voice a whisper against the crackling wood. “And still, you’d die for her.”
“Not for her,” I lied. “For what she’ll become.”
Amanti stared silently into the fire.
Finally, she turned away, headed for her room.
The fire hissed as sap burst in the logs. Shadows climbed the walls like a tide rising. I stared into them and saw the shape of the city below—thedark towers, the silver gates, the pulse of the vow that would one day wake them all.
Chapter Twelve
Aurelia
The following afternoon, the cabin’s walls felt like they were closing in on me. I’d been pacing for the better part of an hour, wearing a groove into the ancient floor while Rydian pored over maps and correspondence at the massive oak table. The scent of ink and aged parchment mingled with the ever-present chill that slid in through the cracks and crevices.
Flames crackled in the hearth, the pop of the embers reminding me of another fire. A flame that had been more lethal than cozy. I remembered the look on Duron’s face as my furyfire consumed him, reducing him to nothing but ash and memory. It had been necessary, killing Duron, and would be again before this was all finished. But the burden it left was heavier than I’d expected.
For Lesha, though, I’d kill again.
Rydian insisted we needed a plan before rushing into action. I wanted to argue that unlocking the Midnight army was the best plan—the only plan. But I bit my tongue.
The truth was, I was short on allies. On friends. And westill had no idea where Lesha was even being held. Until word came about her location, there was no point in leaving anyway. Still, now that I knew she was alive and in danger, I couldn’t sit and do nothing.
“You’re going to burn a hole through the floor,” Rydian said without looking up from his maps.
I stopped, turning to face him. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his face, cast by the flickering torches mounted on the walls. Even exhausted, even bent over battle plans with tension carved into every line of his body, he was devastatingly beautiful. I hated that I noticed.
“We need to talk about opening the gates,” I said.
His quill stilled. “No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I don’t need to.” He looked up, those storm-grey eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “The answer is no, Aurelia. It’s too dangerous.”
“The realm is a dangerous place,” I retorted.
