Page 181 of Ashes to Ashes

His hands mirror my shadow-stained ones, and understanding passes between us without words.

“You have changed,” I observe.

“We all have. The question is whether we change together or let fear separate us when she needs us most.”

He pulls out maps and texts, the scholar in him already strategizing despite the emotional upheaval. “Show me everything. Father’s plan, the life debt mechanics, the trial structure. If we are doing this, we do it right.”

“Finnian—”

“No.” His voice carries newfound authority that makes me take notice. “I spent hours listening to that bastard scream about how they have been conditioning her, shaping her, turning her into something that serves their purposes instead of her own nature. I will not let your father complete that process through magical binding.”

I spread shadow constructs across the table—floor plans, magical theory, political implications laid out with tactical precision. “The trial requires all four treasures to respond. Amarantha controls the Stone of Fál, corrupted to reject Wild Court authority. Even if we reveal ours...”

“Then we corrupt hers right back.” His smile turns sharp. “I know more about treasure magic than anyone alive. If she has poisoned the Stone, I can cleanse it.”

“That is theoretical at best?—”

“So is love.” He meets my gaze with absolute conviction that cuts through every doubt. “So is choosing someone over everything you thought defined you. So is believing that what we feel for her is worth reshaping the political landscape of three courts.”

The words settle into my bones like truth I’ve been avoiding, the Spear’s heat finally stabilizing into steady warmth—ancient power recognizing righteousness when it finally sees it. “This will destroy us,” I warn, though I’m already committed to the path. “Professionally, politically, personally. Everything we have worked for, everything we have built.”

“Good.” His voice carries steel I’ve never heard before. “Because what we have worked for clearly is not worth having if it requires sacrificing her to keep it.”

Lightning illuminates the gathering storm as shadows and golden light swirl together around us—Unseelie and Seelie magic finding harmony in shared purpose.

“Orion needs to know,” Finnian says finally.

“Orion is going to want to burn everything down the moment he hears about the debt.”

“Perhaps that is precisely what this situation calls for, what we should have recognized from the beginning.” Finnian begins gathering texts and magical implements with efficient purpose. “Perhaps careful scholarship and political maneuvering are not enough anymore.”

“And perhaps,” I say, shadows already reaching toward the grove where she sleeps safely in Orion’s protection, “we have been approaching this the wrong way. Trying to protect her within existing systems instead of changing the systems themselves.”

Finnian looks up from his preparations, amber eyes holding mine with shared understanding that needs no words. “Partners?”

“Partners.” When I clasp his shoulder, frost and golden light spiral together where our hands meet. The Spear pulses with warm approval—ancient power recognizing the righteousness of our cause. “Whatever it costs.”

“Whatever it costs,” he agrees, then adds with a scholar’s precision applied to emotional truth: “She is worth it.”

“She is worth everything.”

Outside the archive windows, storm clouds gather with unnatural speed—two courts’ worth of magical fury barely contained by ancient academy wards. In two days, we’ll either save the woman we love or destroy ourselves trying.

But we’ll do it together.

And somehow, that makes the impossible choice feel almost... possible.

The Spear’s steady warmth reminds me that some powers transcend political convenience, that justice exists beyond the calculated cruelties of kings who mistake control for strength.

Tomorrow, we begin our preparations.

In two days, we make our stand.

Against a king who turns salvation into slavery, and love into chains.

34

ASH

---