“Well then, no time like the present,” Ana says. Most of the people in the tent warily move back as she picks up the scythe, holding it at arm’s length as she carries it outside. I follow, as do most of the tent’s occupants. Ana takes the scythe all the way to the perimeter of the camp, earning some curious looks from her soldiers on the way, then she walks beyond the border of tents. When she’s in view of the Miravow, she sets the curved blade down on the ground.
The sun is shining brightly today, and it gives her hair a reddish glow as she stands over the artifact.
“Keep back,” she calls. “I’m not sure how much of a fight it’ll put up.”
The others obey, but I stay close by, ready to protect Ana. She senses me standing there and throws me a wry smile.
“Always such a rule breaker,”she says.
She closes her eyes and reaches out her hands so they’re hovering over the scythe. Her fingers start to glow, and I bask in the feeling of the immense heat in her veins. I can sense it across the mooring, bubbling up inside her until it bursts out of her hands like the sun breaking through clouds on an overcast day. Her golden beams of sunlight hit the scythe, making its metal glow with an orange radiance. In a few moments, the glow turns white, the metal so hot I can feel it from where I stand six feet away.
Ana’s hands shake, and still she pours the sunlight out of her, drawing deep on her wells of power. The surface of the metal starts to bubble.
“Nearly there, my love,”I say.
“It’s stubborn,”Ana replies, sounding tense even across the mooring.“But I think I?—”
She stops mid-thought as the scythe starts to separate, melting into a glowing puddle that splits and then splits again. A hum of power builds around us, reaching a crescendo as the liquid metal sizzles against the earth, throwing up a trail of smoke.
“It’s done,”she says.
The second Ana drops her hands, the buzz of energy in the air bursts like a bubble. My geostri magic feels it rushing downward, sinking deep into the earth.
“Good work, Your Majesty,” General Becane says approvingly, offering her a salute.
“Power doesn’t simply disappear,” Harman says, limping over to examine the scorch mark the scythe left behind, ignoring Alastor’s muttered complaints about not looking after himself. “The artifact was destroyed, but where did its magic go?”
“Even on this side of the border, the Miravow’s roots run deep,” Inas says, pointing to the ground and tracing a finger up to the tree line. “The forest will probably take that power, just like it took Her Majesty’s immortality.”
“And the other tokens?” General Becane asks.
“We can decide about their fate another day,” Fairon says. “Neither I nor the Agathyrians have reason not to trust QueenMorgana with their safekeeping. Right now, I must see to my troops,” he looks over to the camp the Filusian army has set up next to the Trovians, several healer’s tents now shared between them. “A king’s work is never done, much less a new king’s.” He meets Ana’s eye as if to say this is something she’ll learn soon too.
As Odaire turns to follow Fairon back to camp, Tira scampers over to them, sticking her hand out to block Fairon’s way.
“Are you going past the mess tent?” she asks Fairon. Odaire stares at her, clearly baffled by her behavior toward his king. My brother blinks, also caught off guard for a second, but then his lips twitch.
“Perhaps. Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Starving,” Tira says, falling into step beside the two fae as she starts to chatter about the battle. I think I hear her asking the pair if they saw the aisthekis try to take Caledon out, then inquiring after the one that lives at the palace as they walk away. I wonder if she’s on a mission to liberate the creature just as Ana did with Dots.
“Fairon has a point. I should go to the healer’s tent,” Ana says as Alastor helps Harman hobble off. “There might still be people I can help there.”
“We’re just going there ourselves, Your Majesty,” Inas says, nodding to us as she passes with Diomi and Letrium.
I respect their offer of help, but while the dryads played their part in Caledon’s demise, they didn’t fight any battles today. Meanwhile, I see how tired Ana is, yet I know arguing with her about resting will get me nowhere. She’s too good a queen for that.
“I’ll come with you,” I say as we slowly start to follow the dryads toward the healer tent.“You know, I think Tira just wanted an excuse to spend time with Fairon.”
Ana’s eyebrows shoot up. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed. I haveeyes,” I say, almost offended. “No two people as different as Tira and Fairon willingly spend time together unless it’s a case of opposites attracting.”
Ana shakes her head. “I agree, but it’s still bizarre. I mean Fairon’s just so…serious.”
“Do you know how long I’ve been praying for him to find some woman to loosen him up?”
“Loosen him up?” she repeats, incredulous. “She might kill him in the process.”
