“I’ll protect her, Mother.” He sat taller. “I swear it.”
Bianca’s lips curved into a sad smile. “I know you will, darling. If ever you need help, Charlotte will protect her, and Alice will help you contact the queen if you are not yet old enough to leave the kingdom.”
The thought of being stuck in the Desert Kingdom for another thirteen years soured Amos’ mood further. The magic in the fae lands gave the fae their power. A normal fae was at full power by thirteen, but royal fae took twenty-five years to reach full power. To keep the heirs safe and ensure their magic fully manifested, the gods infused magic into the lands, trapping an heir in their kingdom until their twenty-fifth birthday.
“How did you bring me through the barrier when I was born?” Amos asked. “Why was I not trapped in the Human Kingdom?”
“There is no magic in the human lands to hold you there,” she explained.
“What if you had crossed into another fae kingdom first?” he wondered aloud. “Would I have been stuck there?”
There were four fae kingdoms that surrounded the Human Kingdom: Desert, Mountain, Tropical, and Garden. Amos couldn’t go into another fae kingdom until he was twenty-five because the magic wouldn’t let him leave the Desert Kingdom. It was like running into an invisible wall. His father had taken him to the border to experience it.
Amos shuddered. It had creeped him out.
Bianca chuckled. “You’ve always been a curious child. I don’t think anyone knows the answer. As far as I know, you and Amelia are the only heirs not born in your own kingdoms.”
Alice opened the door. “Someone’s at the main door,” she warned before disappearing again.
“If we don’t get to talk later, Alice will answer any questions you have,” his mother said just as they heard the door leading from the sitting room to the hall open. “I love you, Amos, and when you eventually meet your sister, tell her I love her, too.”
Amos vowed then and there to kill his father. It was the only way to bring his sister home.
Clover released a series of clicks, listening intently. She turned and threw her dagger, hoping to hear it hit the target instead of bounce off the cave wall. The familiar sound of a blade sinking into wood echoed back, and she smiled proudly.
“Good work,” Trinity, her echolocation instructor, said from somewhere in the darkness. “You hit every target today. I’d say you’re almost better than your sister.”
Trinity was the oldest woman living in the den at seventy years old and had been doing echolocation longer than any of the others. Most parts of the den were pitch-black, and echolocation was how the early sacrifices learned to navigate. Now they brought supplies from the surface for light, but the skill was still taught to everyone in the Hydra.
The Hydra was a warrior group of primarily women who were going to save their kingdom one day. Clover once asked why they called themselves the Hydra. Trinity said every dragon can trace their bloodline to the Hydra Dragon—a dragon god with multiple heads.
Clover preened anytime someone compared her to Ruth. She wanted to be just like her sister in every way. After watching their mother be brutally raped and killed when she was six years old, Clover withdrew from everyone, not speaking for almost two years.
Ruth never made her feel less than for being non-verbal; never gave up on trying to help her through the trauma. She had stepped perfectly into the motherly role Clover needed, even though she was only ten years older.
Trinity made a few clicks as she walked toward Clover, patting her on the head. “Good job, little mouse.”
Little mouse.Clover hated that name. It was what the others in the Hydra called her since she didn’t speak much.Quiet as a mouse, they’d said. Ugh.
A rustling sound filled the silent cave as Trinity dug two candles, a flint, and steel from her pocket. “Hold these.” She handed the candles to Clover, positioned the flint near them, and lit the wicks. “Let’s gather your daggers and head down to the others.”
Clover hurried to the wooden targets set up around the training cave and retrieved her daggers, juggling the candle as she sheathed each blade before tossing them into a bag, except the last, which she slid into the sheath at her thigh.
Her fitted trousers and sleeveless shirt were dusty from sparring with Rainer earlier. She wished boys were allowed in the den, but the dragons refused to let males enter. Being one of the only others in the Hydra semi-close to her age, Clover and Rainer often trained together, but it had to be on the outside in the dirt and blistering sun.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Clover followed Trinity out of the training cave. Once out in the open, the ceiling stretched higher than Clover could see, and she heard a dragon or two flying overhead.
Street lamps burned along the walkways, illuminating the world around them, but there was no light higher up to see the dragons in flight.
“Watch out for the bollards,” Trinity warned. “It’s mating season.”
Clover groaned. Bollards were nocturnal creatures native to the den. They were the size of horses from the human lands with stocky bodies and soft leather-like skin.
The den had its own ecosystem and stretched under all of the Desert Kingdom with similar landscape, only the foliage was different, made to thrive without sunlight. She liked to think of it as the Dragon Kingdom, and no one but the members of the Hydra—and the dragons—knew about it. They just thought it was a big cavern where the dragons lived.
“Clover,” Ruth called out, jogging toward her. Clover’s sister was tall with broad, muscular shoulders, muscular thighs, and equally bulky arms. She trained constantly, and it showed.
Clover pushed a piece of her wild, blonde hair out of her face, wishing she’d have thought to braid it, and waved. “We’re going to be late for dinner,” Ruth said. “Dad will kill us if we’re late again.”
