Page 86 of The Mirror in the Mountain

“Tell me what I need to do.”

The answer, apparently, lay in the hands of another queen: the Queen of Imyr. I had once visited the Southlands shortly after I had been coronated; their forests reminded me of home. Trisanne had been quiet then. Not shy, but introspective, a daze to her expression like her mind was moving too fast to focus onwhat was immediately in front of her. She was also a mother, both children old enough to take part in this war. I had heard the stories of her son’s Celestial magic turning the tide in battle, not to mention the whispers about how the strength of it might one day lead him to become High King.

Once, I had felt thankful that Tobias and Evangeline were too young to know the brutalities of war. I no longer felt that way anymore.

The powers of the sprites lay in intent—in how one action would affect the next. So I trusted her when she told me to write to the southern queen for a weapon she had created. One that could defeat the False King when the time was right.

I had asked her for two.

No sooner had my message disappeared in a burst of white light than another had taken its place in a flash of green.

But how did you know? The stone I created…it can remove the magic from those cursed by it. I thought to use it as a cure, not a weapon.

My reply had been quick, and to the point.

I hope it can be. But I need you to make two more for my twins—I was told by a sprite that they’ll need it one day. I’m afraid I cannot tell you more than I already have, nor can anyone ever know of our correspondence. But I’m begging you, one mother to another.

Your doing this might very well save the realm. But there are two, too young lives your invention will protect most of all.

I remembered her children from my visit. Her son, her daughter, both too young to live in a world at war.

Her response was immediate.

I’ll need two stones.

I ran to my mother’s old jewelry box, its hinges squeaking in protest as I threw the top open. Two diamonds sat there, waiting for me as if for this exact moment. One light like Tobias’sburgeoning magic that was all mine, one gleaming darkly with the night Eva had gotten from her father—her ability already frighteningly effortless.

Though I hadn’t planned to give them to my children for years yet, I had commissioned two daggers, one for each. A gift for my little warriors to strive for as they learned to wield their strength—the stones yet to be placed.

My hands shook as I tucked the diamonds into my next missive, then watched as it all disappeared.

Chapter 37

Eva

Rivan was watching me too closely as I walked into the woods after we made camp, tired yet too restless to turn in for the night. He had been silently doing so all day as we rode through the frosty countryside, Adronix looming over the clouds far ahead. My legs ached, my thighs and calves sore from gripping Nisa’s sides, my lower back tight from absorbing her movements in the increasingly rough terrain. Sometimes I missed the simplicity of car rides, though I couldn’t muster the energy to laugh at the concept of magically powered dirt bikes or ATVs.

Then winced at the thought of machines encroaching upon this realm—though I imagined the forest would swallow up any attempts at paving a road. Perhaps that was part of why Aviel wanted to rule both realms. While his desire for power was obviously the driving factor in his plans to subjugate the human world, the thought of him gaining access to its resources—including its more deadly creations—was truly terrifying.

I looked behind me to see Rivan following. His eyes narrowed as ours locked. And I knew he knew. Bash must have already told him of my ill-fated plan. Of the bloodbond and what it meant.

Ignoring him, I stretched out the stiffness from the long ride before I finally looked where he casually leaned against a tree trunk. It was foolish for us not to take advantage of the few hours of sleep we would be afforded. And yet, I might prefer this confrontation to failing to fall asleep while Bash’s concern seeped down our bond, coagulating with mine.

Raising an eyebrow, I held up my hand, palm up, bending my fingers toward me twice in outright challenge. A ghost of a smile crossed my lips as I remembered all those training sessions together in the Faewilds. Rivan’s mouth twitched like he was thinking the same. Wordlessly, he swaggered toward me, raising his hands to match my fighting stance.

Rivan’s first swing nearly took my head off. I ducked just in time, thrown off balance, and his elbow jabbed into my side. Twisting away from the blow, I swung out the opposite foot. Rivan was too fast, too ready as he leapt back. He lunged forward, our hands meeting in a furious series of blocks and strikes, his moves so quick, I could barely keep up.

I could practically feel the admonishment behind them, his usual style sharpened with something like outrage. But I didn’t want him to take it easy on me. No sooner had I thought it than he caught my fist, twisting my arm behind my back until I went to my knees. Tumbling forward, I broke his hold. When he followed, I kicked behind me to sweep his legs out from under him.

Catlike, he rolled as if he had meant to fall all along before tackling me to the dirt.

Breathing hard, I nodded in defeat. Rivan rolled off me, his face twisting in barely concealed judgement. I stood up, groaning.

At least my muscles would be sore in a different way tomorrow.

Ignoring him, I walked over to a fallen log, panting as I sat with my back to him.

The silence stretched in the space between us as Rivan gracefully sat down next to me. I waited for him to speak first, but he simply sat there as if we didn’t have anywhere to be, those lavender eyes full of reproach. The muffled sounds of those in camp hurrying to sleep for the few hours we had before daybreak had faded into mere murmurs, only intensifying the quiet. I wondered fleetingly if this was an approach he had used to break prisoners during the last war.

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