The sizzle of anticipation in Gwen’s veins turned to dread. “You could pull your troops up into the mountains. I can call for Arran using the communication crystal. Retreat until we can join our forces with the terrestrial army.”
Elora’s nostrils flared. The door still hung open, making it impossible to tell if the chill came from outside or from Elora herself. “Or we can fight.”
Gwen recognized the vengeance in the female’s eyes. In Baylaur, she and Elora had fought side by side, lost the city inch by painful inch. Elora wanted retribution. She wanted victory. She wanted to feel like she was not an Ancestors’-damned failure. Gwen understood her completely.
But even though she’d just told herself and Ferndale that she would take command of the human forces, she found herself looking to the other doorway.
Sylva stood, hot tea in hand as always, framed by warmth and firelight that glinted and turned her gray hair a striking silver.
“We have been running long enough,” the human woman said. “This is our realm. It is time we fight to defend it.”
64
VEYKA
I’d hoped to never visit Avalon again. The instant my boots touched the lush green grass, the memories of Gorlois, Arran—
His hand curled around mine.I am here, his beast growled just for me.
Once, I would have been horrified at how easily he accessed my emotions. Now I was just grateful.
My hand was steady as I lifted it, a spiral of light appearing instantly. I did not spare time for greetings, though my eyes prickled uncomfortably at the sight of Cyara.
“We cannot linger here or we will quickly lose our senses,” I reminded everyone. “Through the rift.” Only once we were all safely on the mist-shrouded island did I take another full breath.
Mya peered around, nose crinkling as she realized we could not see more than a few feet in any direction. “Evander, can you do anything about this?”
He lifted his hand, cold whipping up at his command. But my focus narrowed before I could judge his effectiveness. Cyara gripped my hand.
“Your Majesty.” She dropped to her knees, bowing her head over the hand she held. “Forgive me.”
My throat threatened to close. She wore her usual gray tunic and pants, a thick cloak against the cold like the rest of us. Her copper hair was neatly arranged in its customary plait. But Cyara had never prostrated herself before me. Ever. Even when we first met. She’d curtsy and show the utmost respect. But this… it made my heart ache.
“We’ve talked about this,” I said around the lump in my throat.
She lifted her turquoise eyes to mine, glowing with unshed tears. “I know. I did not complete the quest you set for me, I betrayed your trust, and I will surrender my Knighthood willingly.” She did not offer an apology.
I’d told her to go to the Faeries of the Fen and secure an alliance. Instead, she’d abandoned Osheen and Maisri and run off with the humans, Percival and Diana. The two currently lingered at the edge of our group, eyeing Mya’s blue skin with wariness and a heavy dose of fear. The dutiful but honest handmaiden I’d known had changed.
But none of that could touch the love I bore for her.
“Veyka. You call me Veyka,” I reminded her, pulling her to stand.
Cyara blinked.
I tried very hard to keep my voice steady. “You followed your king and your heart. I am lucky to call you my friend and my knight.”
Her wings wobbled, and I knew she was very close to collapsing again. I pulled her tight against me—the oldest, truest friend that remained to me. Forgiving her was easy.
“Do not be angry with him,” Cyara said into my hair.
“Anger,” I laughed at the absurdity. “Such a simple word cannot even begin to touch what is between us.” I’d forgiven him, too.
I was ready to give up my own life to save Annwyn. But the simple truth was I did not know how I would react if the roles were reversed. If the prophecy had asked for Arran instead of me… part of me said that I would let him go. That I would still choose Annwyn.
But another part screamed in protest.
“Here,” Cyara said, pressing something into the space between us. Large, metal, and rounded. The chalice.
