Page 26 of Lera of Lunos
Several of the children shyly sneak strips of meat from their pockets, tempting Shade’s wolf to trot over on his silent paws. All blissfully unaware of why we are here, of the silent battle for the throne that we are about to unleash.
“I hope Shade gets a stomachache,” I mutter, watching the gray wolf sprawl shamelessly before several young girls, all eager to scratch his furry belly and ears while sneaking more and more treats from pockets and pouches.
“Oh, he will,” River assures me, steering us up the cobblestone path that winds toward the palace. Since Autumn brought me in through a Gloom fold on my first visit, this is my first time approaching the palace gates, and their beauty takes my breath. River slows in front of them, letting me take in the elaborately carved iron, inlaid with gold reliefs and opaque blue stones that match the color of Slait’s flag, whipping in the wind from the tallest tower. “As I was saying, the last time we came, Autumn spoiled the approach. This time, you can enjoy the full experience.”
I open my mouth to point out that it’s River, not Autumn, whom I hold responsible for the disaster of my debut visit to the palace—thanks to him keeping the truth about his royal heritage from me—but the tension in River’s body pauses my retort. Light words aside, River is returning home not as a son or prince, but as a challenger to the throne he’s never wanted. I rest my palm over his hardened knuckles and he squeezes me tighter to him, dropping a kiss on my ear.
“How long do you think it will be before Griorgi comes?” I ask. Autumn’s network of patrols reported that the king has stayed away from the palace since the confrontation in Karnish, but not even they know all the folds in the Gloom that Griorgi has surely built. I hope we were out and about in the countryside long enough for the king to have gotten River’s message. “Could he have gone into hiding?”
“Griorgi doesn’t hide, he schemes.” Tye trots up to us, my mare’s reins in one hand. “We—” Tye cuts off as two dozen armed warriors step through rippling air from the Gloom, swords and bows already drawn. A wall of Slait’s navy blue and gold, sunlight glinting off metal.
Staring at an impossibly large arrowhead pointed at my chest, my heart jumps into a sprint. The wind hitting my face suddenly feels hot, the world suffocatingly small. Two dozen armed warriors against us five. My thighs grip the horse beneath me, the sensitive stallion dancing until River’s calm hand on the reins soothes him.
“You have a dangerous sense of humor, Sparkle,” Tye calls, throwing back his head. “Put away your toys before Coal breaks them.”
A wave of relief softens my spine as the air ripples again, this time welcoming Autumn, stunning in a shimmering gray gown with strands of matching silk woven into her crown of braids. Being back home, with the full extent of her wardrobe, clearly suits her. Walking through the parting sea of warriors, my friend grins at me for a second—taking another second to examine my torn, stained, road-weary outfit with a dark look and an audible sigh—before weighing River with her gray gaze. “Is it too much to hope that you froze something off in those mountains?”
“What’s with the display?” River waves his hand over the small army, who are just now condescending to lower their weapons. “Showing off?”
Autumn gives River a dark look. “I wish. Kora is more paranoid here than Tye is around too many guards. She’s having patrols shadow everyone approaching the palace.”
“Indeed.” River swings himself out of the saddle then lifts me down to stand beside him. He surveys the warriors a final time before settling on Kora, whose shoulders stiffen. River nods to her. “Thank you for keeping Autumn safe. Her and us.”
Kora brings her fist to her heart. “We’ve searched the palace for evidence of Griorgi’s activity and found nothing, sir. No communications or magical traces. He wasn’t working out of here to set up that portal.”
“No, I don’t imagine he would have been.” Handing the horse off to one of the guardsmen, River puts a guiding hand in the small of my back and falls in step beside Autumn and Kora. “He wouldn’t wish to give Jawrar the key to Slait, hence the setup in Karnish—however much of the town is still left.” The male squeezes my shoulder and turns to his sister. “Any new theories on why Griorgi tried to bring me over to his side? I don’t have Father pegged as sentimental.”
“Agreed. You need a conscience for sentimentality.” Autumn pulls a journal out of a satchel across her shoulder and flips through the dogeared pages. “I’ve been working through that one for a while. Most likely...” She frowns at her notes and trails off, the silence shifting slowly from expectant to pregnant.
“Autumn?” River prompts.
“Mmm?”
River gives a short growl.
Kora’s blue eyes actually dare to flash at the male, who just points at his sister in exasperation.
“She’s not slept more than four hours a night since we left.” Kora brushes her hand along Autumn’s forearm, waiting until the smaller female looks up at her before asking, more gently than River did, “What were you going to say about King Griorgi?”
“Oh. Jawrar and Griorgi talked about wanting me as well, right?” Autumn leafs back in her journal. “Some silliness about wanting my assistance in handling Slait’s Gloom patrols.”
“Given that the Gloom patrols have answered to you for several hundred years now, it seemed a logical proposition,” River says.
“Logical sounding, certainly. But Griorgi would never trust an army that he doesn’t control directly.” Autumn taps a line of text. “I think Father is misdirecting Jawrar as to the reason he wants River and me. And when we take out sentiment, the only connection remaining between the three of us is blood.”
A shiver runs through me, resonating with the tension saturating the air. Where I’d thought to find creature comforts, the Slait Palace feels more like the battleground that Coal sought. Even without the enemy here, the war has already begun. The dread that I’d managed to avoid during our long journey now seeps into my blood, similar to what I used to feel when I labored in Zake’s stable—when, despite the sweet scent of hay and horse and emptiness, I knew the estate’s masterwouldcome. And so would a beating. I force my voice to be steady. “What does blood have to do with it?”
“When it comes to the ancient magics that Griorgi is toying with, there are few things more powerful than blood—especially the magic-filled blood of our line,” Autumn says. “Don’t forget, most fae can’t even step into the Gloom. I think Griorgi used his own blood to open the portal in Karnish—it’s the only substance with enough power and allegiance to him to crack the wall between Mors and Lunos. And I think he’ll need much more blood than he can spare next time, when he’ll try to make a crack large enough to bring an army through.”
18
Lera
Autumn’s words hang in the air, making bumps race like ants along my skin long after she excuses herself back to the library and the patrol melts silently back to their posts in the Gloom. Coal peels away the moment we enter the palace courtyard, which looks very much like when we last left, with its vibrant flowerbeds and castle domes stretching up to the brilliant blue sky. Except there is a different feel to the air now. A sulfur-like tension that hums with invisible danger.
And yet, despite the deadly confrontation with Griorgi crawling over the darkening horizon, seeing Coal duck alone into the stable twists my chest. Shade’s words return to me, an echo of the ones he’d uttered to Tye. In essence: You broke it, you fix it.
Waving away the hostler who appears to take charge of the horses, I collect Sprite and the remaining two stallions and head for the stable myself. Pulling open the barn door, which slides easily along well-oiled rails, I inhale the comforting smells. The mixture of grain and straw and horse sweat. Warm and welcoming. With the evening in full swing, the hostlers are gone, having left behind filled water buckets, clean stalls, and fresh hay.
