“Banished?” Kjeld’s gaze slid to Caelian, and she met his worried glance with one of her own. “What did she do?”
Morwyn’s face shuttered, her shoulders dropped.
“What didn’t she do,” Sylvan muttered, a scowl deepening across his brow.
But it was Lira who offered an explanation.
“A while ago, a plea for help reached our shores from Faeven. They were in a battle against dark forces not of this world to save their realm, and we answered their call. Ariawyn and Morwyn led a dozen Druidic ships across the Drowned Veil, through the Eirelan Pass, all the way to Suvarese situated on the coast of the Lismore Marin.” Lira’s turquoise eyes flicked to Sylvan before continuing, and while her face was ethereally serene, there was a shadow of anger harbored in her gaze. “And while they were gone, while Druids were paying the ultimate sacrifice to save others, Elowyn seized the opportunity to poison Wenfyre.”
“She turned the land against us,” Sylvan spat, a long-tempered rage igniting in his violet eyes. “The River Thalorien almost dried up completely. The wishes born of starlight ceased falling into the Caelora Bay. Even the Myrkwild could barely stand against her, the forest practically strangled itself.”
“Stars above,” Caelian whispered, clamping one hand over her mouth, a spark of curiosity burning in the depths of her sapphire eyes. “That sounds almost exactly like what is beginning to happen in Aeramere.”
“Elowyn would have gotten away with it too, if weren’t for Sylvan.” Lira wrapped the silvery blue ribbon of her dress around her finger, weaving her words as carefully as the embroidered lace. “But Sylvan was able to detain her until Morwyn returned from Faeven. It was then she was bound and banished.”
“And what of your mother?” Caelian asked, and the Druid queen’s face fell.
“She did not return from Faeven.”
Kjeld understood the depth of loss, but he did not agree with their actions in the slightest. “So instead of imprisoning Elowyn for treason, you shipped her off to Aeramere, allowing her to wreak havoc upon another kingdom?”
“Kjeld,” Caelian admonished, her voice soft. “That’s not a fair assumption. I’m certain Morwyn didn’t send her to destroy Aeramere on purpose.”
She shifted on the bench, her thigh brushing his once more, and faced the Druids directly. “Did you?”
Sylvan’s back snapped straight, and he shoved his snowy white twists of hair back from his face. “We wouldn’t dare.”
“Heavens, no. I would not wish the blight of my aunt’s magic upon anyone.” Morwyn held her cup of tea with both hands, her thumb circling the curved rim. “But I forbade her entry into Wenfyre for all eternity. I can only assume she found a weakness in Aeramere and sought to exploit it.”
“A weakness?” Caelian scowled, and a tiny line furrowed across her brow. “What an absurd notion. Aeramere isnotweak.”
“No, but you must admit it has been weakened.” Kjeld didn’t particularly want to agree with the Druids, but it seemed Caelian was unfamiliar with the truth of her family’s lineage. “The only thing protecting Aeramere from an invasion of any kind is a flimsy glamour put in place by Elowyn. The Veil is a deterrent to mortals, but for immortals of any variety, it poses no actual threat.”
“Well, yes. I know that, but—” Caelian pressed her lips together, her eyes darting all over the room, struggling to focus. He could almost hear her mind working, sorting through all the information. “Why would she want to destroy a world that she already controls?”
“Perhaps it is not Aeramere she seeks to destroy.” The suggestion came from Sylvan, whose patient presence commanded attention.
His insinuation was not lost on Kjeld. “Aye. Maybe she seeks to ruin something else altogether. Like a bloodline.”
Caelian’s heartbeat shuddered, and he glanced over at her, noting the way goosebumps pebbled along the flesh of her arms. “A bloodline? That’s…it’s preposterous. One can’t simply lay waste to an entire bloodline. Besides, who would she—oh.”
Her panic thrummed, the magnitude of it coursing through Kjeld like it was his own. She scrubbed her palms against her layered skirt, crumpling the softly spun material between her fingers. “You think Queen Elowyn means to end my family? That she seeks to erase the Starstorm line completely?”
“I think it’s a definite possibility,” Kjeld affirmed, hating the way her bottom lip quivered.
She bit it to keep it from trembling further. “But why? Queen Elowyn and my mother, Trysta, were incredibly close. They were friends.”
“But Trysta was not of Starstorm blood,” Lira countered, grabbing one of the cakes from the platter before them. “You said so yourself that she was a Druid.”
“I mean, yes, that is true.” Caelian’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her breathing becoming uneven. “But I fail to see why Elowyn would want to be rid of us, and more specifically, why she would wait so long? What I’m saying is, if she wanted to see me and my siblings dead, then why not kill us off as infants? Why would she let Trysta marry my father at all? Why would she sit back and watch as the bloodline she supposedly wanted to eliminate continues to grow?”
Sylvan cleared his throat, his calm expression softening into one of pity, as though he knew this conversation would not end well for Caelian. He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. “I can think of one good reason.”
“Control.” Morwyn nodded, reaching over to pour herself another cup of tea. “Elowyn’s magic is contaminated, infected by the insatiable greed for power. If Elowyn somehow thought she could control you and your siblings, if she could bend you to her will and utilize your magic for her own personal gain, then she would see your lives as a personal gain.”
Caelian pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense.”
When she blinked her eyes open again, they were filled with a storm of tumultuous emotions. Worry. Fear. Confusion. She looked over at him, desperation etched into the lovely lines of her face. “I don’t understand.”
