Page 111 of Ecliptic

Her eyes perused my soul flame with a calculating stare, almost as if she were sizing him up for something. “I do recall your valiant efforts in the Crypts. The Alcreon Light is lucky to have you,” she said before her gaze turned to Maddock. “But you. I don’t recall.”

He bowed. “I’m afraid I was trapped in another prison, Your Highness. Keira saved me from a dark hell as well.”

Her eyes shot to mine questioningly. “He is attached to you?”

“He is,” I said, and for the first time, bitterness didn’t coat the words. Maybe I was finally coming to accept Maddock.

Dyani cleared her throat. “Sun casts upon sun? That’s quite the riddle.”

Rayal’s eyes wandered to the warrior, a moment of lingering perusal before finding my eyes. A faint breeze blew through the courtroom and swayed my dress against my bare skin.

“It is a doorway that reflects the outside world. But my cousin is the expert on all matters concerning the Eye of the Sun,” she said casually, walking to the Keeper of the Arch. The cousins embraced.

“It is good to see you. You are looking well,” Thaydril said, kissing both of Rayal’s dewy cheeks.

Rayal’s smile appeared, bright and genuine, and for the first time, I noticed she had matching dimples on either side of her grin. “As do you, cousin."

“A doorway, you say?” Dyani asked, repeating Rayal’s words.

“Of course,” Thaydril replied, stepping away from the princess. “The Eye of the Sun can be a door that leads anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” Rowen asked with a calculating look in his eye.

“Anywhere,” Thaydril confirmed with a mischievous smirk. “At the king’s behest, of course.”

“Yes, of course,” Rowen agreed, looking so comfortable and assured in his surroundings. It was a gift he had, to appear as if every space were made for him as if he owned every room he entered. His commanding presence was hard to ignore and exuded off him in a predatory elegance.

“The king awaits you at the Sun Dial,” the Keeper said, turning to face me.

“One last thing,” Rayal announced, pulling something out of the pocket of her dress. She ran up to me and placed a hooded veil over my head, pulling the sheer fabric down to cover my eyes and nose. Only my lips and chin remained uncovered.

“I can barely see!” I exclaimed, tilting my head back.

“It’s covering up all my makeup,” Thaydril complained.

“You look beautiful,” Rayal said, straightening the veil. “And mysterious.”

I took a deep breath through my nose and straightened my spine. I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing—a seemingly innocent mare ready to bare her teeth to the unsuspecting king.

Thaydril and Rayal walked us through the palace in a procession that felt equal parts like a parade and a death march.

I was to meet with the king and prove the worth of my blood. I had to convince a ruler of a city to come out of hiding and aid us in battle. It was no small request, but with the number of guards I’d seen, they had plenty of soldiers who could help us defeat Erovos.

The elves of Hara’dune might feel safe behind their arch, but the darkness seeping into the world would eventually find them. I just had to make them see that . . . if they didn’t already. How could they not? Children were begging for water in the streets.

I was terrified to meet King Aedris. How could I convince him to join our battle after he had hidden himself away and ignored all the signs of a dying earth?

It was as Rayal said—I would have to bleed for him.

I shivered as I thought about cutting myself again. The mark from Rayal’s cut was already healing, but the memory of the blunt blade ripping me open made my skin crawl.

My gaze shot back up as we were led through a long, stone tunnel that opened up into an expansive courtyard. There was a circular dais, engraved with lines and symbols I couldn’t decipher. Directly in the center of the platform was a massive upright pointer in the shape of a triangle. The inclined edge of the pointer cast a shadow onto the dais, and I realized I was standing on a giant sundial.

One side of the dial had colosseum-style seating, filled to the brim with elves, and on the other, stood a massive spherical sculpture made of concentric rings.

“Step to the gnomon, Alcreon Light Bearer,” said a commanding voice that could only belong to King Aedris. My eyes snapped to the pointer of the dial—the gnomon—which also happened to be the throne. He gestured to the center of thesundial, where he sat on a chair of solid gold. “I cannot cut you open from way back there.”

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