“Is she all right?” I asked Toryn. The steady clop of hooves almost drowned out my softly spoken words.
Toryn smiled sadly. “She’ll be fine, but she’s been through a lot. Sometimes, she struggles beneath the weight of it all. After what happened…I’m sure it brought back a lot of emotions she’d rather forget.”
“I get that,” I said.
“Just after the war ended and Kalen took control of Endir, not all of the light fae agreed to follow him. They staged a revolt. A lot of people died, including Fenella’s husband, Cain. She loved him fiercely.”
“Oh.” I glanced up ahead at where Fenella stalked through the mists, her fists trembling by her sides. Her horse walked beside her and nudged her shoulder every now and again. His touch seemed to be the only thing keeping her together.
“During the fight, her son, Ilias, almost got killed, too. If it weren’t for Kal stepping in and taking the blow for him, he would have—a sword, right in the gut. For Kal, it was only a surface wound that healed quickly. For Ilias, it would have been death, him being half mortal.”
“Fenella’s husband was a mortal?” I couldn’t help but be surprised. “Humans and fae have always mingled so freely in Endir?”
“To an extent,” he said with a slight nod.
“How long ago was that?” I asked, turning back to Fenella. It must have been hundreds of years. Even her son would likely be dead now. No wonder she always had such a harsh glint in her eyes. She’d lost so much.
“Just after the war,” Toryn said. “So well over three hundred and fifty years ago.”
“I see.”
“She still loves him as deeply as the day they wed,” Toryn said with a wistful smile on his face. “That’s how it is for us, you know. Our emotions don’t fade with time. If anything, they burn brighter and brighter until they consume us whole. It sometimes means she has a death wish. Living without them both…”
So that explained her willingness to throw herself in front of the beast, practically taunting him. And why she’d urged Kalen to blast away that entire light fae camp when we’d been hunting for Oberon. She had nothing left to live for.
Toryn read my thoughts. “All she has left is her fierce devotion to Kalen. She’d do anything for him, even die. Truth be told, any of his Mist Guard would.”
“Something tells me you’re speaking of yourself, too. Going back to the Kingdom of Storms must be difficult. I don’t know what happened to make you leave, but I heard what Kalen said. It was something to do with your brother.”
Toryn’s face clouded over. His jaw clenched, and he ripped his gaze away to stare into the mists.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“Don’t be sorry. In a few days’ time, I’ll have to face them, one way or another. I’m walking right back into the dragon’s den, and it was my decision to do this.”
I nodded, curious. But I wouldn’t ask—I wouldn’t push. It wasn’t my place to demand answers when they were so clearly bogged down in pain.
But Toryn continued after glancing over at Nellie, who was listening to our conversation with keen interest. “My mother is the queen of the realm, and while she is a kind and benevolent ruler, she is not so kind where her children are concerned.” His face tightened. “There were four of us growing up, my brother and me, and two sisters. I was the eldest, but the line of succession is not decided by birth in the Kingdom of Storms. It’s decided by brutality and strength in a much-celebrated fight to the death.”
Nellie gasped, and I tensed my hands around the horse’s reins. A fight to the death?
“The entire realm comes to watch.” Toryn closed his eyes. “My younger brother, Owen, quickly killed Veina, and I horrified everyone by trying to save her and my other sister, Lilia. But it was no use. Owen killed her, too, and then it was just him and me. It was kill or be killed. And so I left, even though I was far stronger than Owen at the time. I would have won if I’d tried. Instead, I ran from the Kingdom of Storms, and Kalen took me in as part of his Mist Guard. My mother has wanted me back ever since. She wants me to finish the fight.”
“Oh, Toryn,” Nellie whispered. “I had no idea.”
I loosed a breath. “What’s going to happen when we cross the border? Will she try to make you fight your brother again?”
“Perhaps,” he said quietly.
“But you’re stronger,” Nellie prompted. “You said you would have won.”
Toryn reached up and touched the scar on his face from where the storm fae’s lightning had almost killed him, and I knew, with certain dread, what he would say. “Not anymore.”
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur. We rode through the mist, camping and traveling, and Kalen and I trained as much as we could. We shared stories around the campfire. Caedmon told me about the time he went out hunting in the mist, lost his sword, and had to use his horns to take out a shadowfiend. So I told him about my battle with Oberon. That brought on a story from Fenella, then Toryn, and then Kalen. Nellie listened to us all with wide eyes.
After the trek to the mountain, we stopped only briefly in Dubnos to swap horses and take stock of the city. I hated to leave Silver behind, but he sorely needed rest after riding so hard the past few days. Once Kalen confirmed all was well, he left Boudica with the captain of the guard—a woman named Roisin, who I learned was Niamh’s sister.
