Page 29 of Dark Fae's Destiny

Altenni is big, but she’s nothing compared to Junius’ hawk; as his hawk rips a talon right through one of Altenni’s bright eyes, she screams, then gouges at Junius’ steed blindly with her beak.

We’re all caught now, tangled as the birds hit the ruined canopy, wrestling desperately to either get apart or kill each other as we bounce through the fallen leaves and branches of my felled Livingtree.

As we finally crash land upon the wrecked forest floor, Junius and I narrowly saving ourselves and our steeds from becoming mincemeat by two quick surges of magic, we scatter apart on the ripped-up loam.

I’m up fast, but Junius is faster. Something inside me just feels so drained as we rush together; I miss my parry of his drive, and his spear thrusts right through my upper thigh.

Blazing agony devours me; with a cry, I’m down, instinctually rolling away and blocking with my own spear, so I can stave off any mortal strikes. But something about that spear thrust has undone me. A cold darkness sears through the wound, viciously awful, as it saps me of all energy now.

I shiver and shake on the ground. I can’t move, can’t raise my spear; striding towards me, Junius whistles sharply as I see his big hawk get a deep bite on Altenni’s neck.

Ready to finish her.

“Don’t kill her. She’s a good owl. We may need her.” Junius is curt as he commands his hawk to stop. It’s the only thing I’m grateful for, as he stares down at me now in our ruined copse of massive, upheaved roots and broken branches, withered flowers still raining down around us in the night.

“What did you do to me?” I gasp, barely able to lift my head now from the ruined moss. I try to send a quick thought to Quinn and Ariana about my predicament; but my bonds to them feel like mud inside me, heavy.

Though my bonds to them are still there, my message to them just isn’t getting through; we’ve gotten in the habit of closing off our connection to each other when we’re in conferences, because of the vast confusion that assails us, listening to so many conversations at once.

I know our folly now, however, as I can only hope Quinn and Ariana felt my desperate roar of the Music when I dug into the United Haven to support me in this battle.

Now, I glance at Junius’ spear, even as he does—knowing that strike paralyzed my ability to use my bonds, just as much as it paralyzed my own magic and my body.

Terrible black sigils spiral all through the white-silver wood of the Faeanic spear, like nothing I’ve ever seen. They’re forbidding, ghastly in the night.

And I know where I’ve experienced magic like that before.

“Your father told me to use this,” Junius says with a complex gaze now as he hefts the spear in his hand, then looks at me. “He said I might need it if you tried to escape.”

“So that’s all this was? A revenge mission to come get me?” I growl now, livid. But the weight of my head is too heavy; it plunks to the ground, no matter how hard I try to lift it.

The Music finally silences within me, along with the rest of my power.

“He did a deal with the devil, Junius,” I say now, even as my breaths become labored from how deeply this horrible wound is draining me. “My father did a deal with the Gold Eyes, the Descendant Staphylogenes… and now all your army has the Gold Eyes’ terrible magic running through them, including you. And it all focuses… inside that spear.”

As my eyes flick to it, I know I’m right. Because even though the Music no longer sings inside me, I see a flash of how the cold, void bonds inside Junius stream towards that spear, along with all his other fighters, elsewhere in the night.

Not to mention the black tentacles that still drain my Livingtree to death.

“It doesn’t matter.” Junius’ voice is soft as he plants the spear in the ruined loam and hunkers beside me. “I’m to take you back to your father, Lucca, willing or no. So you can answer for the crimes you have committed against the Summer Fae… not to mention leading this rebellion that made criminals of our best people, driving a vast schism deep into the Summer Fae’s heart.”

“That schism was already there, created by my father. It was him who unleashed such terrible pogroms against the Dark Summer Fae, his own people. He divided our families and killed our loved ones, thanks to the Gold Eyes’ influence goading him. It wasn’t me who started this war. It was them,” I say, rasping now, even as I fight to keep my eyes open and my voice moving.

Heavy and cold, it’s like I’m succumbing to a slow paralysis, as everything inside me gradually drains. I feel it as the very last of my Livingtree’s life is sapped now, channeled into the black spear Junius holds via those awful tentacles of black magic.

All of that energy courses through me now, struck into me by the spear. All the power of two armies, Valorhome, and those who were killed tonight are pouring through me now, silencing every last bit of magic inside me, thanks to the Gold Eyes’ terrible sways.

At last, I can’t move. I can’t even speak anymore as Junius kneels beside me, watching me succumb. Something in his gaze is troubled, however, since I’ve mentioned the Gold Eyes. For the first time, I see doubt flash in his eyes for my father’s reign.

But my eyelids are too heavy.

They close—and I’m gone.

11

SUSTAIN

Quinn and I have had no success finding the tomb of Staphylogenes’ heart. Though we’ve poured through physical maps and online ones for hours, looking for passages similar to what we see in our minds, we’ve come up empty.

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