by Everly Frost
“Many truths have been hidden until now,” I say.
“Indeed.” The dragon draws back his head, his eyes brightening as he addresses Nathaniel. “Rise Nathaniel Exalted, the true Fell King.”
When Nathaniel draws upright, the beast casts his gaze across Nathaniel’s weapon with growing reverence. “Bright Heart,” the dragon says, dipping his head and lowering his shoulders in a deep bow. “You kept the light.”
“I will protect it for as long as I live,” Nathaniel says. “I ask only that you give it to someone worthy if I die today. Whether that person is fae, human, or…” He glances at me. “Someone precious to me.”
The dragon’s smile fades. Deep sadness settles in his eyes. “I will honor your request, Nathaniel Exalted.”
The dragon swings his mighty head toward Imatra and then to Cyrian, his voice rising in a fiery roar. “The monarchs will approach!”
Imatra strides through the flower field with two of her guards beside her. I know them only vaguely—one is a Solstice fae, the other is a Dawn fae. It’s a wise combination. The Solstice fae can protect her while the Dawn fae can heal her if she’s injured.
Cyrian approaches on our left, his black hair slicked back and his upper lip shadowed by growth. Snake and another hunter stride beside him, both of them carrying an arsenal of weapons. Neither of the hunters is as intimidating as Hagan, but I remind myself that Nathaniel’s mother trained them. Esther was correct when she taught the human trainees that fae take a second to harness their powers. These hunters could strike down any number of fae before the fae could retaliate.
Imatra throws her head back, a disinterested expression on her face as she returns Cyrian’s hard stare.
“You have both brought your armies to this battle,” the dragon growls at them. “Do you intend to break the Law?”
Imatra blinks at the dragon. “Never,” she says. “I will honor the outcome reached today.”
Cyrian smirks. “I’m here only to support my champion.” His smile fades as he casts a glare at me. “It appears that the fae champion has already been given the advantage of armor.”
Cyrian raises his hand, the merest twitch of his fingers, and one of the hunters steps forward carrying a suit of armor. I recognize it as the armor Nathaniel’s father was wearing when he died.
Nathaniel stiffens beside me as the hunter hands it to him. It’s mahogany, the same color as Christiana’s armor, but a golden emblem is emblazoned on the front depicting Nathaniel’s family name—the same curve of the moon and rays of the sun as the marks that remain on my left shoulder and above my heart.
“You will find that the three unfortunate cuts in the back of this armor have been repaired,” Cyrian says, a cruel twist on his lips. He tips his head at Imatra, as if to acknowledge her part in his path to becoming the King of the Fell.
Imatra’s jaw clenches before her expression becomes deadpan.
Nathaniel is quiet as he holds the suit, pressing his palm over the emblem on the front. “I accept this armor and vow to honor the warriors who wore it before me.”
“Very well,” the Vanem Dragon says. “The monarchs will both—”
He pauses, his head swinging toward the western end of the Misty Gallows beyond the location of Cyrian’s hunters. A commotion builds as figures emerge from the mist—a hundred humans wearing beige clothing and carrying a multitude of weapons.
It’s Nathaniel’s people.
I recognize Esther’s golden hair as the human army takes up position in the gap at the western end of the two armies.
There are two riders on horseback with them—both of whom I recognize immediately.
Nathaniel tenses beside me as Christiana and Hagan ride toward us despite the threat of the armies on either side of them.
They slow their horses as they draw nearer, stopping clear of the Vanem Dragon’s position before they dismount. The horses are skittish, but Christiana hands her horse’s reins to Hagan, who calms both animals while Christiana strides toward us.
She’s dressed in her armor, her hair braided. She looks tired and drawn, but her expression is open, the press of her lips hopeful as she pauses to bow to the Vanem Dragon before she walks directly toward Nathaniel.
“Brother.” She takes a knee, bowing her head to him.
Farther behind her, Hagan also looks tired, making me doubt he slept after we left the Bitter Patch this morning. He won’t have had any rest since yesterday. He’s wearing the same slightly too small clothes, but he’s carrying more weapons than when we last saw him. His lips are drawn into the same unforgiving line, the look of a warrior that Nathaniel wears. His perceptive gaze passes across me, pauses, then takes in my glow, my bright eyes, before he moves on to the armies around us. Finally, his attention returns to Christiana, watching over her.
Nathaniel’s forehead creases, wary as he considers first Hagan and then his sister, waiting for her to speak.
She takes a deep breath without raising her eyes, her head still bowed. “Nathaniel, you honored our father by carrying out his wishes. You lived your life as he taught you. But I… was afraid and lost. And so… so angry.”
She swallows. Pauses. Takes another deep breath. “You asked me to decide who I am and what I stand for,” she says, raising her eyes to his. “I’ve come here to tell you that I stand for you, for my brother who was meant to be King.”
Cyrian takes a threatening step forward as she speaks, but Christiana casts him a sharp glance. He is bound never to touch her again and the frustration on his face is fierce. Dark light increases around his fingertips, but he doesn’t release it.
Christiana rises to her feet. “We have come here to fight beside you,” she says to Nathaniel. “All of us. If you need us.” She gestures to the human army behind her before she turns to me. “We want to fight beside you and Aura. If you’ll let us.”
Pain strikes through my chest. Christiana is a proud and stubborn woman. I understood her motivations when she acted to protect her people this morning. I hated the pain it caused me—and the conflict between her and Nathaniel—but before I met Nathaniel, I would not have treated a human any better than she treated me.
Now she has offered to support Nathaniel and me.
It’s… too late for me, but Nathaniel will need her help to defeat Cyrian once the Law of Champions is decided. He will need to act quickly, a challenge for the throne that must be swift and precise.
Nathaniel considers her carefully, his astute gaze passing across her open expression before he leans forward to grip her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I can’t ask you to forgive me, but—”
“I do,” Nathaniel says, the merciless line of his mouth softening.
She blinks rapidly. Bites her lip. “Then we’ll be waiting and ready when you need us.”
Behind her, Hagan gives me a nod and I return it with a small smile, grateful that he will be there for Nathaniel when I’m gone.
Gratitude is the strangest emotion to feel for a hunter who imprisoned me, but Hagan and I understand what we each need to do.
He knows that the fight for the Fell throne will be furious once I’m dead.
Chapter 23
Hagan’s lips hitch up into a wonky half-smile, a rare and unexpected sight before he tips his head at me and turns away, choosing to walk between Christiana and the hunters until she reaches her horse and they ride back to the human army.
I sense Nathaniel’s worry as he glances between me and his departing sister, but his expression hardens when I turn fully in his direction.
He looks at me now the way I want him to—as a warrior.
The Vanem Dragon remained silent throughout the whole exchange. Now, he lowers his head to us again. “Before the fight begins, the champions have the right to walk with me and ask anything they need to know. They may not be separated from each other’s sight, but their conversation with me will be private.” He looks to each of us. “Do you wish to walk with me?”
“Aura?” the dragon asks me.
“Yes,” I say, feeling more uncertain than I have for hours. “I want to walk with you.”
“Very well,” the dragon says. “The monarchs will now step back. The fight will begin once the champions have spoken with me. Aura will walk with me first.”
Despite the dragon’s order to step back, Imatra gives me a hard glare, her mask of control slipping. She has played so many games with my life that I wonder if she even has the capacity to see that she created her own worst enemy.
“Remember who you fight for, Aura,” she snarls. “You are bound to me in duty and honor. You will kill the Fell creature for me.”
I step up to her, unafraid. I see through all of her faces now—the benevolent leader, the conspiring fae, the cruel weaver of dark magic—to the frightened and desperate woman she is beneath.
Lowering my voice to a careful murmur, I say, “I will do nothing for you, Imatra of the Solstice. I will do only what is right for the people of Bright and Fell.”
Her hand snakes out to grab my arm, her fingernails biting against my armor, her ruby-red lips pressed together so tightly that they become bloodless. “You will kill him.”
My voice is a mere breath of sound. “If you believe that I could ever kill the man I love, then you’re the one without a heart.”
With a sharp breath, she lets me go. Her glare fills with loathing and resentment before she smooths out her features, pasting over her stormy emotions with an expression of supreme control before she glides away with her guards.
Cyrian takes several backward steps, still facing forward, dark light glimmering around his form, sparking in the moonlight. Unlike Imatra, he remains silent before he turns on his heel and stalks away.
With a final glance at Nathaniel, I move to the dragon’s side, feeling very small beside the giant beast.
Nathaniel remains behind, a solitary figure in the middle of the field as I hurry to keep up with the dragon’s large steps.
The Vanem Dragon exhales a sigh into the night air, the warmth of his breath comforting me. The armies are quiet on either side of us and the humans are silent ahead of us, but it will only take a spark to light up the tension around us.
“Nobody can hear us now, Aura,” the dragon says. “The Law of Champions gives me a very small amount of control over what happens between now and your fight with Nathaniel. The old magic came alive when you and Nathaniel were sealed, and it has rested inside my heart since then. I can use it now to give you peace, comfort, or advice. This is your chance to speak your heart, to voice your final words. If you wish, you can give me permission to repeat what you say in the instance of your death.”
I don’t need to think about my final words. The light inside my chest is never as bright as when I’m near Nathaniel and right now, my light glows dull without him.
“I love him,” I whisper. “Will you tell Nathaniel that?”
“I will.” The dragon takes another measured step. “Do you have a message for anyone else?”
I’ve already said the closest to a goodbye to my brother and father that I can manage. I hugged Treble and made sure he was safe. All that remains is the fate of the fae and humans. If I weren’t controlling my emotions so tightly, I might cry at this moment.
The fate of the humans and the fae rests on the outcome of this fight.
“If the fae will listen, tell them that Nathaniel will treat them fairly,” I say. “Tell them that he carries old magic inside his heart—my magic—even if he can’t use it. He will be a good king. And if the humans will listen… tell them that Nathaniel never betrayed them. He was just the first person to see that I was not their enemy.”
The dragon is quiet. “You don’t plan to survive the fight?”
I hope my silence is enough to answer his question. I step carefully through the grass, picking my way between the trailing flowers.
Tugging my fleece closer around my shoulders, I glance back to see Nathaniel standing beside Cadence. She holds her wing up, giving him a small amount of privacy while he pulls on his father’s armor.
“What will happen if Nathaniel refuses to fight me?” I ask, turning back to the dragon.
Fire smolders in the dragon’s mouth as he speaks, suddenly fierce. “You must make him fight you.”
“What if he refuses?”
“Then he will die at dawn.” The dragon pauses. “If you don’t kill him first.”
My jaw is tight, the light inside my chest a flickering mess as I grasp at a final way out. “I’m old magic. The Law of Champions is old law. Can I unbind us? Can I use my magic to change it all somehow?”
“The old law binds everyone,” the dragon says, shaking his head sadly. “Even a Lucidia.”
Nathaniel told me that the old law doesn’t only govern humans, but the environment as well. He said it was part of everything: every living creature, every change of season, even every heartbeat. To try to stop it is to try to stop life itself.
We are still a long way from reaching the human army gathered at the end of the field, but the dragon draws to a stop, considering me quietly.
“Aura?”
I nearly can’t speak.
Soon, I will have run out of words and there will be nothing left but the fight.
“I know what I am,” I say. “I know who I am, and I know what I need to do.” I tip my head back to see the stars, imagining for a moment that I can see the Lucidia dancing in the cloudless ether. “But I have one last question: What will happen to my magic when I die?”
The dragon lowers his head to mine, pinning me with his big, brown eyes. I once thought his eyes contained endless pools of fire. Now I see endless space, the vast cold of a starry night.
“Your magic will return to its source in the ether,” he says.
I try to smile but fail. I press my palms to my cheeks, tracing the shape of my face, marking the form my magic chose to take. “Then I won’t really be dead.”
The dragon nudges my shoulder with the tip of his nose before he turns and we walk in silence back to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel has returned to the place where we left him, except that now he is dressed in armor. Evander has stepped back with Cadence, keeping their distance, although they’re much closer to Nathaniel than anyone else.
I step aside as the dragon lowers his head to Nathaniel. It’s my turn to wait now.
“Nathaniel Exalted,” the dragon says to him. “You may walk with me now.”
I try to read Nathaniel’s expression before his back is turned to me. It’s the first time in three days that I haven’t been part of his conversations or been able to read his emotions. It’s like being cast adrift with no anchor, nothing to keep me tethered. All I can tell is that Nathaniel is asking a lot of questions. The dragon frequently nods or shakes his head, speaking quickly before pausing to hear what Nathaniel asks next.
Finally, they stop much farther along than I did, but Nathaniel’s posture changes. Even from this distance, I can read the tension in his shoulders as he turns to face the dragon.
I gasp when the dragon suddenly jolts, rearing back, his wings spreading. Nathaniel steps right up to him, an angry intensity in his expression that I wasn’t expecting. He shouts something that looks like a demand, or an order.
The dragon trembles and lowers his head as if he’s fighting an invisible force while Nathaniel stands his ground, fists clenched, compelling the dragon… to do what, I’m not sure.
Fire rushes from the dragon’s mouth directly at Nathaniel, making the distant humans shout and the fae and hunters reach for their weapons, but the flames split before they reach Nathaniel’s body, rushing around him, scorching the earth on either side but not touching him.
The dragon drops into a crouch as if he’s suddenly exhausted
before he finally speaks again. He keeps speaking for a long moment while Nathaniel listens, unmoving.
When the dragon falls silent, Nathaniel casts his gaze upward at the sky, then toward me. He steps back from the dragon with a curt bow before he breaks away from the majestic beast and strides back to me.
A shiver runs through me as Nathaniel draws nearer.
His steps are full of purpose, his focus on me unbreakable.
The dragon suddenly raises his head, his voice roaring across the distance. “Nathaniel Exalted! DO NOT DO THIS!”
Nathaniel ignores him, reaching for his weapon as he strides through the field toward me. His muscles bunch as he slides the halberd free and swings it across the air in front of himself, then lowers it, blade to the ground. The way he handles the weapon, his grip and perfect balance, tells me how comfortable he is with it.
I brace, my hand on my left shoulder, ready to draw my sword if Nathaniel intends to begin our fight immediately. I’m prepared and ready for whatever’s coming my way.
Nathaniel stops four paces away from me.
His lips are pressed together in the same forbidding expression with which he first greeted me.
“Answer my question, Aura Lucidia, and speak only the truth,” he commands me. “Who killed my father?”
I fight my confusion. He knows who killed his father. He saw it in the glitter bulbs.
I stop myself before I ask him what’s going on. A deathly silence has fallen around us that makes me pause.
I sense a tug of magic, as if his words have triggered the change in our environment. The silence extends up into the sky and out on either side of me. Thunderbirds crack their wings but don’t make a sound. The Vanem Dragon rises into the air behind us and I can see that he’s shouting, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
As soon as the dragon stops speaking, Imatra suddenly launches into action, shouting orders at her guards. To my left, Cyrian is also agitated, dark light flashing around his torso while the wolves and bears snap, snarl, and pull against their chains. He is also shouting orders, yelling at his hunters, but I can’t hear a thing.