Page 87 of Court of Treachery

“How do I know you speak the truth?”

Dimitrius shook his head, glaring at Aedon. “Do you not see?” He held his arms wide, gesturing around. “For fuck’s sake, Aedon. This is about so much more than you or I now. Forget your petty hate. There is aworldat stake. There is butthe slimmest chance to stop him, if only we can figure it out. You managed to get the Dragonhearts once. Now we need them again. Erendriel herself calls Harper to a higher cause. This is greater than any of us. You must do what you can to help her stop him.”

The staircase rumbled beneath them. Dimitrius grabbed Aedon by the arm, wrenching them both up the stairs as fast as they could go just as the rest crumbled into nothingness behind and beneath them. Dimitrius thrust them into the ether as the last of the bridge disappeared before they could reach safety, and Aedon’s yelp was cut off as they reappeared, tumbling to the ground at the top of what was now a cliff before a yawning void in the mountain.

“H-How?” Aedon stammered, his face paling.

“There’s no time. Go,now. Remember my warning. Swear you will pass it on. No more must die needlessly.”

Aedon grabbed the front of Dimitrius’s shirt, yanking him close as he took one last look at the broken mountain. “I will swear it only if you promise to keep her safe. Swear on your blood, your magic, yourlifethat you will keep Harper from harm until we come for her.”

Dimitrius met his hard gaze with a surprisingly sincere one. “I swear it once. I swear it twice. I swear it thrice,” he said quietly. A slight breeze arose as the rush of magic swept around them, a bond of their word. For a moment, understanding passed between them.

What is he playing at?Aedon wondered, not for the first time. For without Dimitrius, they would all have been dead. The mountain rumbled behind them with ominous warning. Aedon released his shirt just as Dimitrius pushed him away.

“I will see you soon.” Dimitrius’s words were a promise as he disappeared into the ether once more. With a last look at the dark mountain that seemed to shake with its own anger, Aedonturned and fled, following his friends from the bowels of the earth into the welcome touch of light and air.

77

DIMITRI

Dimitri watched Aedon go, wishing that he could leave, too—truly, without the leash of his master tugging him back.You are a fool, Dimitri, he berated himself. His eyes shut momentarily as he tried to swallow the guilt as best as he could once more, for it stabbed at him like a knife twisting in his gut. How many had already died because he had been foolish enough to raise Saradon? He could never undo that. Never make it right.

As he stood before the creaking, shattered gates of Afnirheim, watching a straggling line of dwarves flee—though he stood shrouded from them—his spirits sank. This was not what he had envisioned. A kingdom destroyed and overrun with barbaric creatures that had not one decent bone amongst them. Could he stop more dying if he stood against Saradon? Or had this grown so much bigger than him that that was a futile hope?

He had no idea if Aedon and his companions would survive their flight to Keldheim or another sanctuary, but his word to Harper was complete. He had helped them as best he could. His conscience was clear on that matter. It was a small comfort in the face of such far-reaching horrors. He knew now with unshakeable certainty, that there was no room for cowardice—and he would rise to the challenge. Harper had given him the courage to do so, however hopeless it was to think he could stop this.

Slowly, Dimitri slunk back into the mountain, going the opposite way of the fleeing dwarves. Any goblins he met along the way, he killed to allow as many of the dwarves to escape as possible.

The end begins now. I started this… I must finish it.

78

AEDON

The refuge of Keldheim was a long-awaited relief. The silent halls were peaceful, the air clean, but it was still too dark for Aedon’s liking. The giant faelight and scattering of lanterns could not replace the daytime sun, nor the wind upon his face. Korrin had granted them refuge, gladdened they had somehow survived, though filled with grief was he for the loss of so many of his kin in another fruitless mission to retake Afnirheim. The last for now, Aedon knew, for the dwarven forces were too spent to attempt a third. Winter would soon likely close any attempts to salvage the dwarven stronghold.

As much as relief filled Aedon at the prospect of his own safety, Brand’s and Erika’s trepidation matched his own. It had been a long time since they had felt so hopeless—and so helpless. They regrouped in the infirmary, where Brand and Erika rested near to each other in the now crowded space filled with as many beds as would fit, for the number of wounded was overwhelming and spilled out into the halls of the dwarven city.

The four—for Ragnar joined them, albeit on a crutch—sat in silence. They all knew. It was the calm before the storm. They had seen nothing of Saradon’s—or Valxiron’s—power yet. Inexorably, Saradon would come and do all in his power to laywaste to the lands and peoples before him. Do all in his power to stop the prophecy from coming to fruition.

What part would Harper play in it? None of them knew. None of them could know. Aedon’s heart ached for the loss of her.She gave herself so willingly for us. That, above all else, proved their companionship. She truly had become one of their small family, their bond as deep as blood.

Her friendship had also brought him the peace he had sought over the years since Valyrea’s death. Perhaps he could truly open up to her.If we ever see her again, his mind taunted. Somehow, just like the others, she helped heal him of a grief so old and deep, he never thought he would see the end of it. Now, he truly regretted being so casual and flippant with her own feelings. She had deserved better than that.

He winced, recalling how he had been so cold to her when all she had sought was some warmth and love. No more than she deserved after her own hardships and a life of cold loneliness. He chastised himself for not being as good a friend as he ought to have been—but she was alive, and there was hope to make amends. There could be no greater way to repent than to save her from the arms of their enemy.

Aedon watched as Brand slowly climbed from his bed to pour a goblet of water for himself and Erika. The Aerian’s wings were a mass of bandages, and the rest of his body was patched with poultices over the various wounds and bruising he had suffered. Aedon hoped the Aerian would recover to his former strength. Erika was in an even worse state, her strength utterly spent and every limb in need of tending from the injuries she had sustained in their escape.

Brand hobbled to Erika’s bed, lifted the goblet to her lips, and trickled it in, more tenderly than anyone would have thought possible of the huge warrior. She tilted her head up, taking the offering like a small, frail, helpless chick in the nest, all the whileglaring at him fiercely. Aedon smiled, which deepened as Brand bowed to rest his forehead against Erika’s. Both closed their eyes in unspoken solace.

Had he found redemption, too?Aedon wondered. Long had Brand carried the weight of Nyla’s death upon his shoulders. The death of another was a heavy burden to carry. Aedon felt that only too well. Brand could never bring her back, as he well knew. Aedon wished his friend would stop blaming himself—and cutting himself off from love again. It was no betrayal to seek a second chance. Aedon had only just realised that himself, though too late to save any fragment of a relationship with any of his past courtships.

“You know, if you’re going to be busy mooning over a girl, Aerian, you shall have no hope of winningchaturaany time soon,” Ragnar said, a hint of hoarseness still in his voice. He sidled up to Aedon and smiled warmly.

Aedon clasped his friend close in a one-armed hug, grinning. “Well met, my friend.”

“Shut up, dwarf,” growled Brand, then he kissed Erika upon the lips in front of any who watched.

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