She smiled fondly at Adara now, the way a proud parent smiled at their child when it was learning to walk for the first time. “I am confident that with Adara as our new queen, she will usher Ediria into a golden age the likes we have never seen before.”
Adara smiled back, but I could see the doubts and uncertainties lurking in her eyes. I knew her well enough to understand that she didn’t understand how Lady Axlya could brag about her with such confidence, while continuing to undermine her concerns about the shadow magic infection in private.
But it was clear as day that Lady Axlya didn’t give two shits about the shadow magic threat, whether it was real or imagined.
All she cared about was that she remained in control of the throne, and whoever the kingdom put on it.
“Now,” she said, her voice taking on a cheerful note, “before we tuck into tonight’s sumptuous feasts, we have some entertainment. Each of the clans has volunteered one of their sons to demonstrate their magical talents tonight.” She paused again, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Whichever male gives the best account of himself will be granted a favor from the Lady Adara herself… and perhaps, if he is truly lucky, the chance to ask for her hand in marriage.”
Shock rippled across Adara’s face, her mouth opening as if she were about to protest. She pulled herself back at the last second, but I could see that she wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about this. Prentis had gone stone faced next to her, the look in his eyes sharp enough to cleave Lady Axlya in two.
The house matriarch, of course, pretended to be oblivious to her nephew’s anger, clapping her hands authoritatively. “Well?” she demanded. “Who is going first?"
32
Mavlyn
The winter winds howled around Leap and Mavlyn as they barreled through the skies of the Gaoth Aire, traveling as fast as they could to get to Windhelm. The two fae huddled together on the cloud for warmth, wrapping their cloaks around them and flattening their bellies to the cloud to avoid as much of the wind chill as they could. Frost clung to Mavlyn’s lashes, and she feared she was mere seconds from losing the tip of her nose to frostbite.
Even so, Mavlyn would have traded a thousand nights of flying through frigid temperatures if it meant not being stuck in Angtun. And that wasn’t just because every fiber of her being urged her to get to Quye. The city had been beautiful, to be sure, like nothing Mavlyn had ever seen, and under better circumstances, she would have enjoyed exploring it as a tourist.
But being trapped in the palace, at the mercy of Leap’s psychopathic cousin, had been more than Mavlyn could bear. Her entire body shuddered at the memory of being pinned to the wall with his air magic, her very words stolen from her as she’d screamed and cried for help, then later begged Leap to run and save himself and Quye.
Never had she felt so helpless, so completely robbed of her bodily autonomy. Ryker had violated her, and had Leap left her at his mercy, she had no doubt he would have taken out his sadistic fantasies on her.
It was not something she would soon forget.
“A-a-are we there y-yet-t-t-t?” she asked Leap through chattering teeth, more to take her mind off the harrowing experience.
“I’m not sure,” Leap said, his own jaw clenched against the cold. He squinted his eyes, trying to see through the foggy skies. “Cirra says we’re approaching, but I can’t see a damn thing up here.”
“Have you considered using your wind magic to clear the way?”
There was a long pause. “No.” He sighed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was being such an idiot. “Gimme a second.”
Mavlyn hid a smile as Leap sat up and lifted his hand, summoning a strong wind current. She couldn’t blame him for being out of sorts after their ordeal with Ryker—for the most part, the two of them were grateful to have gotten away. But it had been hours since they’d left, and it was clear neither Ryker nor his guards were pursuing.
It was time to put the horror behind them, and focus on the reason they’d returned to the air realm.
Quye.
The wind howled in response to Leap’s summons, whipping around them to form a mini cyclone that whirled through the skies, collecting wisps of cloud as it went. The early morning air cleared in its wake, gradually revealing the rocky silhouette of a fortress carved into a mountainside.
Mavlyn’s heart beat faster at the sight of it. “It doesn’t look very big,” she said to Leap. “How many guards do you think we’ll have to deal with?”
“Not many, maybe half a dozen,” Leap said. “The number of guards isn’t the problem—the real issue is the way it’s positioned.” He pointed to the edge of the terrace that the fortress rested on. “The fortress is inaccessible by land—flying is the one way to get in. Most of the fortress is inside the mountain, which has been hollowed out, but the outer portion, where the only entrance is, is so small that it’s impossible to approach without being noticed.”
An idea sparked in Mavlyn’s mind, and she sat up so she could peer at the mountain fortress properly. “Is there any vegetation on the mountain?” she asked. “And how are the rooms inside ventilated, since I assume there are no windows inside?”
“I’m not sure,” Leap admitted. “I was four years old when my parents brought me here, so I don’t remember much. I know that there are some scraggly bushes and trees.” He scrunched up his face, as though trying to dredge up memories from the recesses of his mind. “If I had to guess, I’d say there are probably air vents hidden amongst the rocks and stones on the mountain’s surface that allow air to pass through to the rooms below.”
“Perfect.” Mavlyn brightened up. “That’s our way in, then.”
Leap directed Cirra to take them around the backside of the mountain, away from the prying eyes of the fortress battlements. The face of the mountain was terrifyingly sheer, normally only accessible by the most nimble of mountain goats. But while the winter winds had stripped the plants and bushes of their leaves, their branches remained. Mavlyn was able to use them as handholds, her magic strengthening the roots so they could support her weight. She hauled herself up the mountainside, allowing her earth magic senses to sink through the roots and into the ground so she could probe the terrain while Leap waited on Cirra, ready to catch her if she fell.
“Here,” she said, pointing to a slim opening beneath a rocky outcropping. “There’s a hollow spot under this chunk of rock. I think the vent is under there.”
Leap flitted closer with Cirra, sticking his head out to peer beneath the rock. “Yeah, there is,” he said. “But there’s a grate fitted over it.” He reached in and tugged on the bars, then shook his head. “It’s too sturdy for me to move.”
