Page 1 of An Honored Vow

CHAPTERONE

IPREPARED MYSELF FOR DEATH. Not mine but the soldiers’ who were foolish enough to stand in our way. The heat of my magic pulsed under my skin in the same steady beat it had from the moment I’d broken the last seal. The new gifts bubbled in my veins, still untested in the three weeks since they were unleashed, but I would need to test them tonight.

I sheathed my bloodstone dagger. It felt wrong to leave it behind, even if the mission would be a short one. After all, it was the blade that had restored Elverath’s magic; the blade that had turned my eyes gold. A small weapon, but hardy enough, though my dual blades were stowed between my shoulders for good measure.

The city of Myrelinth boomed with celebrations underneath my feet. I peered down at the Elverin from the treetops as they delighted in the revived magic. Children’s laughter echoed off the spiralingbranches of the giant Myram tree. My chest loosened. I was grateful they could indulge in celebration, even if the levity wouldn’t last.

Magic had returned, but the war was not over.

I leaped from my burl. With a flash of light against the tangled vines, I took flight. It was easier to leave the city in my eagle form than walk through the crowds.

I scanned the skies as I flew, searching for signs of mercenaries or spies in the thick wood. Before the seals had broken, the wood was dark enough that any signs of fire were easy to spot. But now the Burning Mountains were aflame with their own inner light.

Leaves of every color glowed beneath my wings, swaying in the wind like luminescent algae caught along the surf. It was breathtaking. I couldn’t blame the Elverin for celebrating the return of magic.

The land was completely new. Just as the rivers of snowmelt washed away the frost each spring, the sealed magic had flooded across Elverath, transforming it almost beyond the point of recognition. I had been too dazed to notice the extent of the changes when we journeyed back to Aralinth the day the last seal broke.

My mind was on everyone we had lost.

Lash.

Maerhal.

Nikolai.

I refused to believe that Damien had killed him. That would be too merciful. All I could picture were the different ways Damien had been torturing my friend. Some things were worse than death.

Dead or not, Nikolai’s absence had fractured us completely. While the rest of the Elverin danced until dawn each night and spent their days rediscovering plants and life they thought had gone extinct, the heart of the rebellion no longer had a pulse.

Syrra refused to speak. She haunted the crypts as if waiting for her sister’s ghost to come and find her there.

Vrail hadn’t left the library. She was determined to find some kind of ancient magic to locate Nikolai, or to at least find out if he was dead or alive.

Their duties plus Nikolai’s had fallen to me. And Killian’s, it seemed.

I kicked the ground as I landed, shoving thoughts of Riven and his deception from my mind. My anger had had three weeks to roast, but it would do no good for me tonight. Riven had fled as he always did. And, as always, it was left to me to make the hard choices.

I took a deep breath, and the scent of honey filled my nostrils. I needed to focus on this mission. Nothing else existed. I looked down. Tiny yellow bells had sprouted from where I disturbed the soil with my boot.

Three weeks had not been enough to calm my newfound magic. My body was electrified, pulsing with life, and I could feel that same pulse everywhere I walked. Magic. That’s what Feron had told me when I came to him with my concerns. I was overflowing with it.

He had told me that my powers would only grow stronger now that I was aniinokwenar. A Faemother. I pulled my hood over my head, covering my golden eyes. I didn’t want more magic. Especially when the Elverin looked at me like a reincarnation of their sacred Faelin.

I would not bring them peace like she and her daughters had.

I had brought a war to their feet, and even with our magic stores returned, I knew that the death toll would spill over with blood soon enough.

Most of it amber.

My magic pulsed as I flattened my palm against the stony peak of the Burning Mountains. I could make out the trail through the thick foliage, but it was best to check for rogue Shades and soldiersbefore the others arrived. The pulse of life overwhelmed my senses. I winced as I focused my gift to just the trail below. It was clear. I took flight and dove through the glimmering leaves. A flock of faeflies scattered as my arms replaced my wings in a flash of light.

I gawked at the path. It was like walking a winding trail through the stars instead of a woodland. Every place I stepped was an eerie dream, equal parts familiar and new. I had traveled the paths along the western side of the Burning Mountains countless times; I’d patrolled it for half a year after I gained my hood. I would go to sleep with every turn drawn behind my eyelids like a map.

But even the woods in the kingdom were different now. The Elder birch had turned gold just like those in theFaelinth. They shimmered as the first signs of light broke along the horizon.

The others would arrive any minute.

I leaned against one of the massive trees. New plants and shrubs I had never seen sprouted between the white trunks. Tiny berries hung from purple leaves and spouted a tiny tendril of flame each time a faefly buzzed past. At night, the flames flashed so often they looked like stars had fallen from the sky and settled along the tree line.

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