Still warm.
Wind gently swept through Alora’s hair as she gazed at the kingdom she had saved. Now broken and left vulnerable as they eternally slept.
Alora laid her palm flat on the ground. And beneath her fingertips, the stone vibrated. Spider lilies bloomed. One after another. Thousands spread like a new beginning that had crawled from the grave of something divine. Thorns rose like a wall, enclosing the kingdom like a shield.
Then she walked among the battlefield scattered with spears and arrows. Flowers and moss spread out to cushion all those sleeping and burying the dead. Among the fae, she found Lady Zinnia, leaning against her fallen elk with a gash in her side.Alora rushed to her, found a pulse and sighed with relief. Her magic weaved from her fingertips and stitched the wound closed.
Then she continued up the Hydell Hills toward Argyle’s walls. Her walk was slow, dreading what she would find.
The streets flickered with scattered flames. Many buildings had been destroyed, many dead among them. Her spider lilies spread through the kingdom, sprouting where the living remained.
The castle loomed ahead.
The gates had been torn open, blood filling the crevices of the cobblestone.
Her heart shook as she looked up at the towers, their windows dark except one where a single candle flickered.
“Rihan…” she whispered.
Alora sprinted up the castle steps, the shadows whisking her away to the main hall of the crown prince’s chambers.
She froze.
The walls were splattered red, bodies of Argyle soldiers and Minotaurs lying among red pools on the floor. She ran, stumbling past them for Rihan’s door.
Her heart caught into her throat.
Lord Zuma lay slumped against it, axe still in hand. He only slept, Alora told herself as she approached but then saw the spears driven into his stomach, blood cooling beneath him. His lifeless eyes were fixed on a scrap of pale fabric clenched tight in his hand, stained red.
Theia’s handkerchief.
Alora covered her mouth, silencing her sob.
Even as he lay dying, Lord Zuma had not abandoned the charge he swore to protect with his life.
“They called you a beast,” Alora murmured shakily, as she closed his eyes. “But you were more noble than all of them.”
Her shadows gently lifted him away from the door and she turned the knob, but a weight held it in place. She could have easily forced it open, but instead portaled into the room.
Theia was on the other side of the door. She lay against it, gripping the knob, her lashes glistening with tears.
And beneath the window, lay Lady Delphi clutching her son in a embrace, shielding him with her body. Rihan’s face was buried into her chest, holding Nexus in his small arms.
All slept. Frozen in time, leaving Alora outside of it.
She had won the war.
But lost every reason she fought it.
CHAPTER 70
Alora
The world felt hollow in its silence.
Spider lilies had taken over the kingdom. Everywhere they grew, through the streets, over the rooftops, within homes like a crimson shroud for the dead.
Alora called on Rune’s power, drawing darkness around her court, wrapping them in veils so time would not mar them. Her magic wove moss pillows beneath their heads, vines curling around their bodies like tender beds. Her kingdom would rest as honored dreamers. She sealed the gates with brambles sharp enough to shred flesh, a wall of thorns rising around her home.
