Page 47 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“Her magic can be cataclysmic. And you don’t even know what else slumbers in her blood.”

“Hold your tongue, Riven.” Power fills the room, wavering in the corners and bristling all around them, charging the air like a thunderstorm. Abyss save him, keeping his ground when Caryan is like this feels like weathering a storm. A deadly storm that will crush you and drown you and spit you out broken.

Riven flashes his teeth back. Hells, never has he overstepped so far. “No. It needs to be said—what you are looking for can’t be so valuable to risk having her here. You’re putting everything at risk. Everything you’ve built.”

“And everything can crumble to dust with the next war, Riven. I need those relics to win it.” Caryan’s voice is pure ice, streaks of black lightning now sizzling through the air. Ready to strike and maim and burn.

Riven ignores them. “You don’t. I have already spoken to leaders of other courts. We can get their support. I can win them over. They will have our back if we offer them something in return, side with us instead of Palisandre. I have also been successful in infiltrating the elven kingdoms, we—”

Caryan cuts him off. “Having them at my back gives them the perfect opportunity to drive a knife in. I have seen this game too often.”

“You can’t risk your own life, Caryan! Her very mother almost killed you!” Riven waits for Caryan’s magic to cleave him. But the surge of power ripples away and subsides, and Caryan’s eyes turn dark again. Riven doesn’t know what is worse—that Caryan doesn’t punish him or the vacant expression on his face.

“I told you that prophecies point out the inevitable. Even if the girl means my end… I can’t escape my fate.”

Riven feels his own heart in his chest breaking, as if something keeps piercing it again and again, prying it apart. Shattering it. His voice breaks, too, as he murmurs, “I can’t allow it.”

“Can’t allow what, Riven? You can’t outrun your destiny, or mine for that matter.”

“We must be able to dosomething.”

Caryan only slowly shakes his head.

“Send her away! Send me away with her! I beseech you!” he tries again, desperation tingeing every word.

“You know the paradox of a prophecy—of fate? You don’t know in what way it will be fulfilled, Riven. You don’t know which of those steps you take are planned and which are random. But fate always finds a way, no matter how much you bend it, or even outsmart it. It will catch up, even if you try to run away with her.” Caryan’s voice has a finality that creeps like ice under Riven’s skin, makes him shiver from the inside, turning it dead.

“That’s not true. Meanara changed fate when she saved your life. There is always another way. Please, Caryan. Let’s go to the great oracle again. Let’s ask Kalleandara for another way!”

“I have already done that, Riven. She told me that it is sealed, was sealed the day Meanara decided to cure me.”

Meanara, the great healer of Avandal. Riven just stands there, arms slack at his sides, unable to find words. Caryan has already consulted the oracle. His last scrap of hope swiped away.

And burnt to ashes.

It only makes it worse when Caryan adds quietly, “My fate won’t include you, though. Nor Kyrith or Ronin. You will live, I made sure of that. The oracle promised.”

Riven can’t help it. Can’t help but fall to his knees then, resting his forehead against Caryan’s thigh, allowing his eyes to drift shut. “You can’t, Caryan. There must be a way…”

Caryan gently runs his fingers through Riven’s hair. “Go, Riven. Sleep. Even we must sleep. It’s been a long night. And I need you ready tomorrow. Darker times are approaching.”

With this, Caryan steps away from him, turning his back and walking out of the room into the next one. The door closes behind him with a saturated thud, shutting Riven out.

Riven stays there, on the floor, on his knees. If he was a mortal, he would weep. But fae can’t cry, so he waits for the tightness in his chest, in his heart, to ease enough that he can breathe again.

He will find a way.

He will not allow his closest friend, his brother, to die. He can’t.

He grabs his clothes from where he dropped them on the floor and puts them back on before he ventures out, back into the quiet halls.

He will find a way.

And if the girl is the one to kill Caryan one day, he is going to find out how… and prevent it.

***

The cold air bites his skin as he enters the dungeon. But when he walks up to the cell where he carefully laid Melody down some hours ago, he finds it empty.

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