“Yes,” he breathed, the voice right beside my ear, though I felt no breath, no warmth. Only a chilling wind. “You are a danger to your people. Look at what you bring upon them.”
I opened my eyes to a nightmare within the nightmare. Valdris was burning—not in flames, but with consuming darkness stripping away every stone, turning them to ash. My people were screaming, dying. Kaia’s battle cry cut short. Freya’s healing light snuffed out. Finn’s laughter silenced. And Griff…
“He shall suffer most of all,” the voice purred. “Your Champion, torn apart because of what you are. Because you will not accept what must be.”
The smoke and shadow cleared, revealing Griff pinned by creatures of the darkest night. His swords lay shattered in pieces around him. But his eyes found mine, never wavering.
“Come with me, my queen, and I will leave them.”
The burning stopped. The screaming ceased. I knew what awaited me if I went with him—the eternity of corruption. But if I didn’t… was I damning my realm to the darkness? Could I even take that chance?
He laughed, a cruel sound ripping through the night. “You cannot know, Orlaith. But can you take the chance? For should you turn down my offer, all shall burn. And I will have you regardless.”
Slowly, I turned and looked upon him. He was tall, taller than Griff. Where his face should have been was a void of the deepest night. But his hand, as he reached toward me, solidified into a pale, long-fingered hand, beautiful in its terrible perfection.
“Good, yes.” He sighed the words as a lover might.
Something stirred within me, even as the rest of me cried out inrevulsion. This was what I was meant for. This was my destiny. If I just took his hand, I would end the fear, the uncertainty.
I reached my hand toward his when I heard someone shouting my name. The voice was distant, desperate, and it cut through the spell the darkness had wrought around me.
The dark one’s perfect hand clenched into a fist and he let out a scream that shattered the air around us. “You cannot escape me, Orlaith! I will have you, and your precious realm will burn!”
I came back to myself,hyperventilating. I was sitting in Griff’s arms, clinging tightly to him, as if he might disappear if I loosened my grip even a millimeter. His hand was stroking my hair, the warmth of his touch at odds with the terrible cold of the nightmare.
“You’re here with me. You’re safe.” He kept repeating those words, over and over, like maybe if he said them enough times, it would finally sink in for both of us. I focused on my breathing, Griff’s ocean scent, and the solid warmth of his arms around me. Between the two of us, my breathing calmed and I relaxed into him.
We slowly lowered back down, but I continued to cling to him, and he made no move to pull away.
Once my heart rate was more or less back to normal, I released my death grip on him, but kept my head on his chest, listening to that steady rhythm. His arm came up to cup the back of my head.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice rumbled through his chest, carefully controlled. His fingers threaded through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“Every time, it seems more and more real.” My voice came out smaller than I intended. “He calls me ‘my queen.’”
His fingers paused their massage, before picking back up again.
I fell silent and listened to his heartbeat drum out the echo of that cruel laughter, until it lulled me back to sleep.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
I never understood why I needed to hone my power for the non-fighting arts. I am a weapon, to be used as such. Maybe someday it will be made clear.
—From the journal of Violet Andrever
As I went into the new year, without being even a step closer to understanding how to fix the Veil, I asked Finn for help. We doubled down on training my powers, with Finn parading instructor after instructor in front of me.
I still spent vast amounts of time digging through the history books for anything that might shed light on the prophecy, the Veil, how any of it was constructed, the darkness itself, anything. I was beyond hoping that I’d find a manual titledA Beginner’s Guide to Veil Repair, but I had hoped there would be something that described… anything.
Nothing explained how my parents knew what to do. Or how Violet knew her sacrifice would be worth it. By all accounts, Violet had single-handedly driven the forces of darkness away, and then my parents had closed the Veil. But those acts had taken all three lives. There was no record, nothing that would help us understand how or give me any information to help me do it again—preferably without human sacrifice this time.
Finn had his group of scholars working on it—had set them working on it years ago, really. And his father before him. They’d spent decades searching, and here I was, expecting to find something where everyone before me had failed. Everyone kept looking at me like I had some magical key to the knowledge that had eluded scholars for generations. With no other choice, I diligently read every book he pulled out for me, finding nothing that could be of use.
I carved out time to practice my power on my own every day, working on separating out threads of power and drawing them up for the delicate work of small elemental wielding. I was still intimidated by the sheer size and depth of my channels—how they leapt into my hands, begging to be released. I knew there was so much more that they were capable of, if only I’d release my tentative hold.
The evenings were the best part of my day. Since that first night we returned from Maraleth and Griff and I had dinner in my room, I’d realized I didn’t actually have to go to the Great Hall or hide in the kitchens. A quick word to the staff had enabled me to avoid all of that chaos. Griff usually joined me, as did Finn, and Freya when her duties allowed. I typically stayed quiet, as those three had formed their own relationship long ago, but each of them made sure to include me in their stories and laughs. It became so commonplace that we all had our own spots at the table—I sat against the wall, Griff beside me on the bench, Finn sat across from me, and Freya across from Griff.
