Please don’t let me have put her through all this for nothing.
He wanted to tell her they could run, that he’d take her south. They could find some corner of the world where no one knew them. But they’d come so far, and sacrificed so much... and she’d say no anyway.
Not when Draknor was coming. Not when Vallenna would burn if they failed. And could he really do it? Run? Abandon their people? He forced his gaze back to the Shards. They looked so harmless now, like pieces of coloured glass instead of the power of the world.
Fatàn. It’s the only option.
Fuck.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to accept it.
“If anyone has answers, it’ll be Fatàn. Their archives. They have records of the Arcanth that go back further than any House. If there’s a reason it failed, they’ll know.”
Kara went pale. “You want us to go back through Fatàn?”
Not really.
“Unless you have any other ideas?” His voice was flat, resigned.
He could see she didn’t. But of course she didn’t like it.
I don’t either.
“Last time we were there, your father’s soldiers found us. They’re patrolling Fatàn lands. What if–”
“I know,” he said shortly. “But the patrols will be looking for us at the borders. It’s... unlikely they’ll go deep into Fatàn, they won’t expect us to linger. If we can get to their capital, to the library...” He trailed off, frustrated.
She stared at him. Then at the lifeless Shards on the cave floor. “Fatàn, then.”
He was already mapping routes, the best trails to make it to Aeterna without being seen. They’d have to move slow. Smart. He’d told Kara that Thorne wouldn’t patrol deep in Fatàn.
He’d lied.
CHAPTER 33
THE WITHDRAWING HOUSE
Every House in Vallenna has a duty to the other, to guarantee the safety and provisions of all Vallenna’s people.
–The Arcanth Accords, Article XIII
The Council chamber was already a storm of fury when Tobias Thorne entered. He’d expected as much ever since he received word from his captain at the Temple that morning. His son had taken the Fire Shard last night. Only a handful dead. Tobias grieved the loss of his men – his hand in it. But there had been no other way. He’d sent a hawk to the Council straight away. To delay would have bred too much suspicion. It had made better time than he had.
“The Fire Shard – gone,” Merrick spat, slamming a fist against the table. “Torn from beneath Thorne guard. More than twenty men taken down with one casting – slumbering in their boots!”
Yes, truly excellent work, Lady Hale.
“My archers reported the soldiers spoke of golden mist rolling through the valley before they fell,” Evelyn added sharply. “Not crimson. Not emerald. Something else entirely. What is this magic your daughter can conjure, Alaric?”
But before he could respond, she continued, her voice turning cold, “And not all of them were asleep. One of the bodies recovered was... unusual.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air. “Dead with no wound at all. No cut. No arrow. His heart simply stopped beating.”
A ripple of unease passed through the chamber – more than unease. Fear.
“The girl,” Merrick growled. “It must have been her.”
Galen’s face went pale. “That’s not possible. Hale magic doesn’t–”
Evelyn was already speaking before he’d finished. “It does now.”
