Page 158 of Fate and Flame
The unsecured flaps flew open and Gaea stormed in, her arms covered in blood.
I wanted to care, but I could only think of Nadra. I could only focus on her.
“I can save Nadra. But you have to save Fen. That’s the deal. Do you hear me?” She shook me by the shoulders. “You save the king or I don’t save your mate.”
My mind became clear as glass. I leapt to my feet and ran for the door, pushing through the crowds of people with Gaea right on my heels, screaming for everyone to get back. Kai and Rhogan came running and forced everyone away.
“I have to go back now,” Gaea said. “You save him, Temir. Do you hear me?”
I nodded and laid my hands on his chest as she vanished. The wound was fresh, his heart was still beating, though the knife ripped through the chamber walls and fluid was filling around his lungs. I pulled the weapon out carefully and let it drop to the sand. With each beat of his heart, more blood seeped from his injury. I removed the fluid and healed the tear from within, and magic coursed through me as I tried to pull him back again. He was so familiar with death. Had been here once before, so it was hard to coax him back to this side.
I healed the outside gash and sat there for a long time with my hands on his chest, pouring more and more life into him. Until I couldn’t any longer. I lifted my hands and the world came back to me. I turned and Nadra was standing there, the skin around her mouth raw. She watched me with sorrowful eyes as I crawled across the ground and hugged her legs. She crumpled over me and sobbed as I held and rocked her, telling myself over and over again that she was safe and she was home.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping Gaea could hear me.
“Ara’s gone,” Nadra whispered into my ear. “The king has control over her.”
I’d been so lost in my own despair I hadn’t stopped to realize anything that was happening. Why Fenlas had a knife in his heart, why Gaea had left, how Nadra had come home. Nothing. I turned to see Gaea weeping into the Greeve’s chest. His eyes lingering on Fen’s body.
“He’ll live.” I pulled Nadra to her feet. “He just has to want to.”
Kai and Rhogan lifted him from the ground and carried him into his tent. They stepped outside and stood guard while the others told me what had happened. The atmosphere had changed. Though the soldiers hadn’t heard of the damage done to their king yet, the volume of the camp turned to hushed tones as restless soldiers moved around irritably. Even the dragons became twitchy, roaring and bellowing from the border for no apparent reason.
Inok joined us after visiting Fen’s tent. “We will still press forward,” he said, looking between us.
Kai moved beside him with the face of a warrior. A commander. “We move the army, we move the king, we go where we were told. Everyone has a stake in this. When Autus is defeated, he has to die. He can’t be sent packing back to his lands like he was in the Iron Wars. The boundaries of the four kingdoms are no more. One king will walk away from this. Our king. There are no other options.”
We packed our entire camp at the borderlands swiftly, leaving the dragons behind to guard the innocent in the Flame Court, and began our slow trek across the southernmost portion of what was once the Marsh Court. The green grass and cooler temperature were a welcomed break from the desert climate. Traveling with a plethora of fae, perhaps marching to their own deaths, was a long and tedious journey as the cetani flew ahead, and though Kai protested, we had to stop for sustenance, quick as it may be, and some form of rest.
As we moved, I considered the motives of each side. It was so hard to justify a battle, but each person had their own reason for being here. The humans may not have had a choice, but if they didn’t turn and fight with us, they would die anyway. Survival was primal and necessary.
The beasts that marched with Autus, the powerful and most malignant section of his army, were there because he had promised them something they couldn’t live without. Whatever that was, land, food, clemency it would be worth it to them. The high fae that fought with Autus were there because they believed in the genocide. They believed in a king who would purify the world. But Autus, he fought because he believed himself the one true king. Because something in his mind had been planted long, long ago, and he’d never been able to let that go.
The southern kingdom and all of our allies fought with us because we believed in something more. We sought the kindness and respect that grew and flourished in the Flame Court. We believed in all fae. Everyone’s basic right to live and breathe in this world. We marched to save our future queen, the one a king long ago sacrificed our faerie immortality for. I fought for my mate. The red-haired, freckled faced beauty. The high fae mated and bound to a lesser fae.
We marched for days. The first night, Fen opened his eyes, remembered his own sorrow and pushed us hard and fast all the way through. He allowed us to rest the second night, though I wasn’t not sure he did. He didn’t eat. Wouldn’t speak to anyone. The only time we saw him was when he was leading the army farther north.
On the final day, the day our scouts told us Autus’ armies rested behind a row of hills, we stopped. We set up our tents, built our fires, and gathered with our friends. For the first time since we left, I sought out the rebels and the Weaver. I wished them luck. I found Roe and Iva among their group and did the same. I found the glassmaker and thanked him for leaving River at the compound. The boy I hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to. Maybe I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.
And then we sat, our group, in a tent around a wooden table with a knife imprint along the side and tried to find comfort in each other. Tried not to think about the fact that this could be the last time we were all together, minus one. Because when the sun rose, the fae would also rise, and so would the weapons, the bloodshed, and the death count.
I lay in bed that night curled around Nadra and stared into the woven pattern of fabric on the tent. I watched as shadows danced along the side. Listened as murmurs from across our camp filled the air, a reminder the others were also unable to sleep. But I didn’t rise from the bed. I lay there and memorized each breath Nadra took beside me. I didn’t want her to fight. I wanted her to stay behind, but she insisted and she could use a sword. We needed everyone. Rhogan had promised to help protect her, and that was the only assurance I had.
The noise outside grew long before the sun rose. Our allies were restless, antsy. Nadra stretched her body over mine and opened her tired eyes. Every morning I looked forward to that smile, but today, there was none.
“What happens if Ara uses her magic?” she asked quietly instead.
“If she concentrates it on just the king’s enemies, we all die, including her. If she doesn’t, the whole world dies, including her.”
She jerked upright and pulled the sheets to cover her chest. “So, she dies no matter what?”
“Before we left the castle, Fen, Kai and I discussed war strategies. Her magic comes with a steep cost. That much, that fast, will shred their soul. And because no matter what Autus has control over, now matter how bound she is to him, she will also always be bound to King Fenlas. I’m guessing Autus thinks he already killed the king and severed her bond to him. Maybe Fen dies as well, I don’t know.”
“So, we just march in there and hope she doesn’t use it?” she asked, taking careful, deep breaths.
“She’s strong and stubborn. But no matter what, we have to do what we can, until we can’t anymore. Maybe Autus wins this battle, but it certainly won’t be without a fight.”
I sat up beside her and rubbed her back in the dark. After reminding her how much I loved her, we dressed into our strongest fighting gear, strapped on every weapon, and exited the tent. We wouldn’t bother taking them down this morning. All energy would be saved for the battle.
