Page 4 of Oaths & Vengeance
His stern gaze burned into me. “See that it doesn’t. Now, get the portal open. We have dead and wounded to transport.”
Chapter 2
Aella
Isat in my chambers in comfortable silence, reading. My room was small compared to most, with ivory-colored stone walls typical of the entire castle and a single burgundy and gold rug to take the chill from the floor and add a little color. There was just enough space for a small bed, wardrobe, chest, and nightstand.
One side had a fireplace, so nothing could be put in front of it except a footstool. I was grateful the window caught the evening light perfectly, so at least I could curl up and read romantic tales without needing a fae lantern. It also afforded a perfect view of my garden below. I was the only one with a direct line of sight to it, and it was one of the few kindnesses my uncle had ever done for me since I moved here at fourteen years old.
I’d spent well over half my life here now. My father, who was the general of the Therressian army at the time, had died nineteen years ago in one of the many battles against the Veronnians. Lord Gannon had killed him with fire magic that burned most of his body so severely that I’d only been able to identify him by a birthmark on his ankle where the flames had missed. I’d had nightmares for months after seeing him that way.
My mother—the one who’d given me my druid half—had passed a year and a half before him. One of her greatest passions was searching for theNaforya Fountain, a vital artifact our world lost more than six centuries ago. We desperately needed it before circumstances became even worse on our planet as the land slowly died. While on a trip to the Oarwar desert in the south, looking for answers, one of the powerful sand worms living there attacked her and her five traveling companions. They weren’t like theones we might find in gardens, but rather, their bodies were nearly as wide as a small cottage, and they could grow to a hundred feet long.
She’d known it was dangerous, but she’d been desperate to find the fountain. My mother and three of her companions died battling the creature, with only two others surviving. They were the ones to bring us news of her demise.
With my brother falling in battle when I was only eight—killed by Lord Gannon’s firstborn son and heir, Hagon—I only had my older sister, Priyya, remaining. She’d fled for Alavaar—the druid continent to the east—right after our mother passed because she’d wanted nothing to do with the conflicts here and had a passion for dragons. Her healing magic for the beasts complemented being a caretaker for them. That was the only continent they lived on these days after too many died assisting fae in the early wars after we arrived two millennia ago. I usually visited Priyya once a month when my uncle allowed it, and I loved seeing them.
A knock sounded at my door.
I set my book down and moved to answer it, finding the castle healer on the other side. Briauna was an older elf who’d seen nearly two centuries. It was difficult to say how much longer she might live since our kind could survive anywhere between a hundred and fifty and two hundred fifty years old. Her long, white hair was pulled back into a bun, wrinkles lined her features, and she stooped a little in her blue muslin dress. I noted she was wringing her hands.
“What is it?” I asked.
She drew in a deep breath, sorrow in her blue gaze. “Rynn has not improved from the faebor fever. In fact, she’s looking worse tonight. I’d hoped she’d have improved by now, but this makes the third full day.”
My throat tightened. Every fae got the faebor fever sometime between the ages of eleven and thirteen when their magic first emerged within their body. The illness was a process that changed us so we could handle our new power, but unfortunately, a third of adolescents didn’t survive. Anyone who didn’t begin to improve by the end of the third day was guaranteed to die within two weeks in a painful, brutal fashion.
Like me, Rynn was an orphan. Her parents had died while on a sea voyage five years ago by one of the large serpents that live within the waters, so she had also been placed under our uncle’s guardianship. Her mother was his younger sister.
Though Lord Morgunn did his duty by taking us into his home as young, unwedded female relatives, he hardly paid attention to Rynn, and he only cared about me because of what I could do with my magic. We were bound to him until we got married and became the property of our husbands, per fae law concerning highborn ladies.
“I want to see her now,” I said, smoothing my skirt.
I wore one of my nicer ankle-length gowns with bell sleeves, a cinched waist, and a scooped neck top that revealed a hint of cleavage. I’d planned to wear it to dinner that would be ready in an hour, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to visit my cousin. She’d already suffered so much in the twelve years of her life, and now this?
Briauna led me down the corridor to the central stairs. We took them up to the third floor and headed straight for Rynn’s room down the hall on the right. Like me, she had small chambers that gave her just enough space to meet her basic needs. Unlike me, she had brought more of her personal belongings when she came here, so her room was full of dolls, figurines, and toys.
Her parents had been merchants who exchanged goods with other realms across the world and had acquired gifts for her from many places before they passed away. She’d kept everything, whereas I’d only brought what could fit in a chest and held some importance because so much served as painful reminders of happier times. My parents had been strict, but they had loved their children and each other.
I moved closer to her bed and sucked in a breath. Her ivory skin was flushed bright red, and her blue eyes were glassy with fever. Even Rynn’s beautiful, wavy auburn hair had lost its luster and was plastered to her head and pillow from sweat.
“Hey, sweet girl,” I said, attempting a gentle smile.
While I’d seen her a couple of times a year when her parents brought her to visit, we’d become especially close after she moved into the castle. In away, she felt more like a younger sister, and I’d grown to love her deeply. It was all I could do not to cry at seeing her this way.
Briauna had told me Rynn came down with the fever when I returned from the battle at Palbour a few days ago, but I’d thought she would make it just fine. She had always been so energetic and full of life. How could she not? I’d even sat with her that night to speculate what kind of magic she’d develop. Sometimes, it was hereditary, but at other times, gifts appeared that no one in that line had seen in centuries. My portal channeling was an example of that.
“Aella,” she whispered my name. “Sorry, I’m not going to make it.”
I shook my head and drew strands of hair from her face. “Don’t say that. Maybe you’ll be better tomorrow, and we’re only off on the timing.”
It was a faint hope, but it had been known to happen a time or two—only never with Briauna attending the afflicted. She was the best healer in all Therress. If she said Rynn wouldn’t make it, she wouldn’t.
“Can I get some water?” my cousin asked, glancing at her nightstand where a full cup sat.
“Of course.”
I helped her sit up and brought the drink to her lips. From the scent, Briauna had added a few herbs. Likely things that would reduce Rynn’s discomfort and help her sleep more easily. There was little to be done aside from that.
