Page 84 of A Trial of the Heart

Off toward the edge of the training grounds, the Ice Gauntlet towered over us—the assessment tool used to determine if a cadet or anyone brave enough was worthy of marching into battle with the banner of a Silver Meadows warrior. The daunting obstacle course was carved into the mountainside with sheer rock cliffs leading to different levels higher and higher up. I didn’t know why, but the challenge of the Ice Gauntlet was tempting.

Oh, so gods-damned tempting. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it while Daxton led me to our sparring area that morning. I didn’t know if the challenge itself was driving me and my animal’s competitive spirit or if it was a secret desire to prove to myself that I might just be worthy of enough for… well, for a lot of things.

Stupid idea? Quite possibly. But then again, it could also be brilliant.

“There’s a rotation between two outposts that guard my realm,” Daxton said as we made our way through the training grounds. “One is here at the western side of the mountains in Silver Meadows, and the other two are further north. The northernmost outpost is adjacent to the Aelius territory, and the otherborders the wilt on the western side of the Inner Kingdom. The warriors rotate every two weeks.”

“So, for a month, they’re away from Silver Meadows?”

Daxton nodded as we approached a clearing. “The two weeks here are less rigorous for those on distant patrol. I manage a smaller section that always guards the Summit and the city borders. My warriors on patrol are ordered to rest, recuperate, and spend time with their families if they decide to have them when they return.”

“That is generous,” I stated.

“I ask them to leave everything behind for a month and risk their lives. It is only fair that I grant them half that time back in return for their service. When war becomes a way of life, and you don’t know anything different, you make the best of what you have.”

“Do warriors volunteer for these rotating outposts? Or is it preferred that they remain here in your personal guard?”

“On the contrary,” Daxton snickered, “it’s hard to keep them away from the northern patrols. Those who desire to become Silver Meadows warriors are dedicated to a cause greater than themselves. In their eyes, it is an honor to fight, defend, and die in battle protecting their home if the Gods deem it necessary.”

“And this has been the protocol for …”

“For the past five hundred years. Ever since the wilt appeared, and every day, we are thankful to see the next.”

“Five hundred years,” I muttered to myself, unable to comprehend how much time that was to be living in a constant state of dread and fear. Always on guard. Always willing and ready to fight. “So, what keepsthe wilt from progressing? From it reaching Silver Meadows?”

“When it began, Minaeve placed magical wards at our outpost along the wilt border that I must replenish with my magic, or else the decay spreads along with the hordes of harpies, hounds, and unnamed dark creatures that would keep any sane person awake at night.” He stilled for a moment, glancing sideways at me. “We must keep the occasional fallen at bay too. We have to be cautious. If too many were to gather, they could overpower the ward and destroy it.”

“You all have been fighting for so long.” I looked out into the forest surrounding the training area beneath the Ice Gauntlet. The vertical obstacle course built into the mountainside itself seemed impossible. “How do all of you do this? For five hundred years, you’ve not given up fighting a plague that threatens to swallow you whole.”

The look on Daxton’s face hid a dark truth, one that damn near broke my heart to see written in the hidden tells on his face. Daxton quickly recovered, turning toward me with an odd stillness, and gave me a half-smile to try and comfort me but also himself. “We’ve experienced downfalls and difficulties, but there is no other choice. We keep fighting, or we die.”

“Surprised you’re admitting to a lack of perfection,” I teased, trying to lighten his mood.

He chuckled, softening his gaze and hardened exterior, allowing me to see beyond the Silver Shadow stigma. “I’ve built a strong circle of friends that I have been able to lean on in my darkest times.”

I saw the pain and regret flash for the briefest second in his eyes. A dark truth about his hardships, one that I recognized in Shaw when he said he would take my place in the trials.

Gods above …

“But in the last handful of years, especially the past few months, we’ve been given a reason to hope for something better. And that, Skylar, has been the most powerful breath of life we could ask for.” Our eyes locked, and I swear if we didn’t need to keep our distance, I would have leaped into his arms without a second thought.

“Did I just hear my high prince give a compliment without blood or flesh being scraped off the battlefield or training ring?” A playful-sounding voice echoed as a tall, striking High Fae male warrior in black training leathers stepped into view with three mountain peaks on his shoulder. “I think pigs have begun to fly.”

Daxton rolled his eyes. “Are you saying you’d like to go flying today, Gunnar? Because that can be arranged after I chase your ass up the Ice Gauntlet and throw you from the top.”

Gunnar clicked his tongue, crossing his thick muscular arms at his chest as a large, cunning smile spanned his clean-shaven face. “If you think you can still beat me. I believe your years are catching up to you, Dax, and you’re becomingslow.” His dark brown eyes squinted, giving him a playful facade that contrasted with the hard tattoo markings around the side of his half-shaved head, continuing just below the base of his throat. The silver mountains on his uniform mirrored the tattoos on the right side of his head, and a circle of gilded thorns rested in the center of his chest, sporting an arrow and sword crossed over each other in black ink. The top half of his head revealed silver-trimmed hair streaking through long dark brown locks braided into a tight bun.

Daxton narrowed his gaze as his jaw muscles ticked. “I believe I’ve been gone too long if you thinkyou can beat me up the Gauntlet. Is no one around here up to the task of challenging you properly? And here I thought you were succeeding in your role as my weapons master and general of my armies.”

“Hard to curb perfection,” Gunnar snickered.

“Indeed,” Daxton said in a low, calm voice that had even his trusted general taking a step back.

“Gunnar?” I asked, tilting my head around Daxton to get a better look at the High Fae warrior I’d heard about on theOpal.

“In the flesh,” he said, uncrossing his arms and giving me a beaming smile.

“About to be beaten out of his flesh is more like it,” Daxton growled, “if he keeps this attitude up.”

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