Page 51 of Return of the Darkness
“Hey,” said a soft voice. Someone stroked Elisara’s hair as her eyes slowly opened. She blinked several times until her vision finally focused on white hair and blue eyes. Her friend’s hand was cool against her forehead, using her power to calm her clammy skin.
“Helena,” Elisara croaked. Helena reached for the cup of water at the side of the bed and brought it to Elisara’s mouth. The queen tried to sit up and drink but winced when she tried to roll back.
“Stay on your side for at least thirty minutes,” said Vigor,coming into focus beside his wife. “I used healing water from the stalactites to mend what I could and stitched the rest together. The water should take effect in an hour and mend the stitches quick enough for you to stand and walk around. I won’t be able to prevent scarring, though.” Slowly, Elisara nodded as Helena withdrew the cup from her lips. As Elisara glanced between the two of them, she felt a prominent absence; someone else was missing.
“Talia—” Elisara intended to explain the complicated nature of their former friend’s death.
“I know,” Helena interrupted, a sadness entering her eyes. “I miss her, even after what she did. But we must move on from our losses and fight for our future.” She squeezed Elisara’s hands, the meaning of her words extending beyond Talia.
“Is she awake?” Vlad called from where he likely stood watch in the hallway. Elisara angled her head to look at Vlad, who stalked past the shadow with a glare, his posture stiff and rigid. He kept his eyes locked on the protector until he reached Elisara and knelt. grasping her hands. Red rimmed his eyes, and exhaustion marred his features.
“I’m sorry,” Elisara’s voice cracked. Hushing, Helena stroked her hair while Vigor held his wife’s shoulder.
“You do not need to apologise for grieving, Eli,” Vlad murmured, squeezing her hand.
“Apologise for the fact we haven’t played cards since you became queen.” He smiled at Elisara’s laughter, which quickly dissolved into sobs.
“Once this is all over,” Elisara murmured eventually, squeezing Vlad’s hand and looking up at her friends. “Cards in the tavern, like old times.” Helena and Vigor nodded, teary-eyed. “Is everything okay? In Vala?”
Vlad rolled his eyes. “Other than the lords insisting on taking the throne, you mean? I’ve kept them at bay for now. We will send word once you have rested.” Footsteps sounded down the hallway. Elisara recognised the footfall immediately.
“Oh, sorry. I can come back,” Caellum said, retreating through the doorway.
Helena bowed her head. “It’s okay.”
“We need to get some more healing supplies from the ship, anyway. Vlad and Jabir said they would escort us now it’s getting dark.” Elisara glanced at Sallos as the three left and Caellum walked in. If it was darkening, the soldiers who had ignored her might start wandering. Sallos shook his head, a silent confirmation they were now listening, and she had full control.
“How are you feeling?” Caellum asked. He knelt on the floor beside the bed, ignoring the stool. He rested his hands awkwardly on the blanket. Elisara reached for his right, brushing the ring she had given him for his birthday. “Sorry, I know no one ever knows how to answer that question.” He brushed a hand through his hair. The gold glinting on his ring finger was unmistakeable.
“You’re married,” she breathed. Caellum glanced away, unsure of what to say, but there was no hiding his smile. Elisara released his hand before reaching to cup his cheek, brushing the scar she had given them as children. Caellum looked back at her with eyes she had known since she was five years old. “I’m happy for you.” Her smile made Caellum’s lip wobble as he cleared his throat.
“You are?”
Elisara nodded and clasped his hand, smiling sadly.
“One of us deserves to be happy.”
“I thought—” Caellum choked. “I thought you were going to die.” Elisara felt the tears well at the genuine pain and fear etched in his face. “I thought you were going to die thinking I never truly wanted to be with you—never loved you.” Elisara frowned through her tears, unsure of what he meant. “I was never unfaithful, star, except for that one kiss. I never looked or thought of another woman; I never wanted to be with anyone but you.” Elisara opened her mouth to stop him. None of it mattered now, but he continued. “Everything I said was a lie. I had been with only you. I did not resent you for Keres or the way it changed you. Youare not selfish or controlling; you are not draining to be with, and I certainly was not being forced to marry you.” Caellum wiped a tear from his face with the back of his jacket.
“I don’t understand,” Elisara murmured.
“It was all a lie. The lords told me I had to marry someone from Garridon for the sake of the realm. But I knew—I knew if a part of you still wanted me, I would have caved and betrayed my future wife, and that’s not who I am. It makes me sick even thinking about that kiss.” Caellum did not meet her eye while looking down at their intertwined hands. She swallowed, processing his words. It mattered little whether he kissed the lady in the gardens for they could never have wed. And, if she was truly honest with herself, there had already been something there—a small spark with Kazaar when they visited the Unsanctioned Isle. Kazaar had always been the one destined for her, and Sadira for Caellum.
“I understand, Cal,” Elisara murmured. He finally looked back at her. “I knew things would not work out, not after we took our thrones. I was returning from my mission with Kazaar and knew deep down I would need to end things for the sake of our realms. While you could have gone about it a better way…” Elisara smiled and squeezed his hand. “I understand. If the tie I once had is anything to go by, there is a destiny we are each bound for. Kazaar was mine, and I think”—Elisara nodded at the gold band on his finger—“Sadira is yours.”
Caellum sniffed, nodding. “I truly did love you,” he said.
“I loved you too.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nyzaia
“Are you okay?” Soren asked. Nyzaia hunched over, resting her hands on her thighs as she took deep breaths, mirroring Sadira and Larelle’s exhaustion. They slumped against the large rectangular rock holding up the mirror, identical to the replica in her father’s office. Nyzaia nodded, pushing the loose strands of hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead as she stood up, wobbling. Soren shot out her hands to steady her waist. Flinching, Nyzaia cleared her throat. They had spoken little since Soren had saved her and Farid in the tavern, other than hushed instructions and ensuring her mind was stable. Nyzaia didn’t particularly have the energy to talk now. She knew Kazaar and Elisara had merged powers, but did not realise it was possible for others. A jolt of shock ran through her when she unleashed flames from her hands, colliding with Larelle’s water, and the other with a twisting vine so similar to Soren’s creations in the tavern. Moments later, the points of connection flared with bright light that crawled back along the lines of power until Nyzaia, Larelle, and Sadira were encompassed in a glow.
Fighting Elisara’s shadows had felt wrong. Nyzaia recognised they were a part of her now but they appeared to be self-aware, trying to protect her. The three queens had not even succeeded. No matter the energy they put into the essence of their merging powers, it had only pulled the shadows apart, but not enough to banish them permanently. Something in Elisara’s mind brought back her focus and control. Nyzaia looked up at the hole in the mountain, where the dusky sky turned deep blue, and prayedKazaar was watching over her and his queen. He would be heartbroken to see Elisara now, yet proud of her strength.
“You do not look okay,” Soren said, scanning Nyzaia’s body.
