Page 41 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

“I killed it and buried it behind the greenhouse.” Her jaw hardened as if she were steeling herself. “Aurelia, I’m dying.”

I stared at her, lost and overcome. “But… you’re immortal.”

Sonoma was the leader of the Aine, the strongest of them all. A goddess in her own right. Even Lesha and Amanti were no match for her.

Sonoma shook her head. “I’m not. Longer-lived, maybe, but with the amount of power I’ve had to maintain, I’m afraid it’s drained me faster.” Her eyes were mournful now. In them, I saw regret. Sadness.

“But Aine magic works differently,” I said, willing her to be wrong about this. “The Fates themselves supply it, and they’re… It’s not possible.”

“Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be,” she agreed slowly. “If this kingdom were full of fae actively using magic, I could draw from them. Or from Menryth’s magic constantly being replenished by the exchange.”

She wasn’t wrong. Fae magic and earth magic were so intertwined, you couldn’t have one without the other. Fae magic fed the land which, in turn, fed the fae. I’d always considered it a beautiful cycle—until our kingdom’s magic disappeared and the land itself began to wither.

Even so, I hadn’t worried for her. Not when the Aine’s magic came from the Fates themselves. But now the Fates had vanished—apparently taking their unending source of power with them. And I hadn’t even realized it was happening.

“Now the only magic user here is me,” I realized. “Wait. Can you use me? Draw from me?”

“No.” Her tone was biting—and final. “I will not take your birthright, Aurelia. Don’t ask me again.”

My throat closed. “My birthright,” I repeated, a brittle laugh escaping. “All I have is a prophecy that’s never even come to pass. And a magic that feeds on darkness and death. Mybirthrightis nothing but empty words.”

“It’s more than that,” she said quietly, but hearing her defend it only made me angrier.

“What good is it when everyone I love is about to be lost forever? This whole kingdom will die if you…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

Sonoma ignored the implication. “The fact is, every time you go in and out or any time someone or something else tries to break through, I am forced to strengthen the barrier. Reinforcing it draws on my power faster than it can be replenished.”

I wanted to tell her to forget it then. To drop the wards and be done with it. Except those wards were the only thing protecting the others. Because if Heliconia learned what had happened here—that the Summer Court had only gone to sleep that night seven years ago… If she knew I was alive and unharmed… If that happened, the kingdom of Sevanwinds would truly be lost, not just forgotten.

“What if I use more magic,” I said, desperation leaking in. “To give you something to draw on. You wouldn’t be taking the magic inside me, only the magic I’ve spent.” Even as I said it, I drew my power to the surface, bringing a small black flame to life in my palm, but Sonoma shook her head.

“We’re past that point, I’m afraid.”

Sadness shone in her blue eyes, and I felt my own emotions welling, drenching me in fear, grief, despair. The flames winked out. “But… you can’t leave me.”

Some of her stoicism slipped, and she reached for my hand across the table. “Please don’t mourn for me, Aurelia. I’ve lived a long life. I’ve served my kingdom proudly, and I’ve watched you grow up into a strong, beautiful warrior. It’s exactly what I asked for.”

I gaped at her. At how she seemed to have already decided. “You can’t just give up.”

“Of course not,” she agreed. “I’m still here, still fighting.”

But I could see the truth in her shimmering eyes. She was nearly done fighting now. And that terrified me.

“You’re a warrior,” I told her as if she needed reminding.

“I am. But so are you. And soon, you will need to think about fighting for yourself.”

Her words cut at me, but I refused to give in to the pain. It felt too much like accepting the inevitable. “What can I do?” I choked out. “There has to be something.”

She shook her head as if to say “nothing,” but I gripped her hand tighter, unwilling to believe that.

“You stop using magic then,” I said. “We drop the wards.”

“The entire kingdom would be at risk?—”

“Maybe we can move them. There’s a network of caves by the river. We can bring everyone there, and when the Obsidians come to the castle, it’ll be empty. Then we bring everyone back again when it’s safe.”

“Aurelia.”

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