Page 80 of Song of Sorrows and Fate

Somewhere in the West

Ravenspire was different.A few broken beams from the shift, but . . . there. Surrounded by blossoms of moonvane and new trees. Aspens like Etta had always had, but more evergreens, a few spiked plants that seemed only to grow in the fae isles.

What was missing were the normal borders of Lyx, the lower township near Ravenspire. And the docks. Where was the damn sea?

Valen shuffled through our chamber. Tables were overturned, a few cracks were in the windows, but most of our belongings were here, and it made little sense.

The damn kingdom had been swallowed by a night so thick I could not see my own hand in front of my face. As the soil had shattered, we’d lost sight of it all. I was certain we’d wake in the Otherworld but instead we were . . . somewhere else.

I couldn’t even orient myself in this new landscape, yet somehow, it felt a great deal like home. Trees blocked our view, but we couldn’t remain here not knowing what faced us in the wood.

Valen handed me an additional dagger and strapped one in a sheath on the small of his back. He tucked a few bits of coppershimto a pouch on his belt, his axes, and the wrapped disc we’d won from the death of the sea king.

Valen rarely left it unguarded, unsettled by the threat from Thorvald’s brother ten turns ago to return. Truth be told, there was a strange, fading power to the gold talisman. Like it was slowly dying.

“Ready?” He asked, taking my hand.

I squeezed his fingers, nodding, and followed him out of the castle to the crowd gathering in the cracked gardens. The cobbled paths, bowers, and fountains had toppled in the earth shift. Most of the plants remained unscathed, but like everything else, seemed different than before, lusher, more vibrant.

A cart had been loaded with supplies and Lilianna. Our horses and charges fled during the shift, so the front was pulled by Ettan warriors, Arvad, Kjell, and Dagar Atra. Arvad hadn’t left Lili’s side. We’d anticipated the need for sleeping draughts, but something else was keeping her body at rest.

In truth, every cursed Timoran seemed to have fallen under some kind of sleep spell.

We’d emerged in this new Etta with Timorans sprawled about, coated in blood. For now, they were all safely locked in the cells, sleeping. Lilianna would remain with us. If we found a way to help her, we could help them all. Until then, we had some sense of safety from at least one threat.

Valen went to a few knights with the orders to keep guard on the palace where our elderly, injured, or those unable to lift a blade would remain. A few gates were crooked and bent on their hinges, but still strong. With archers and watchmen in place, it was the most we could offer them for safety.

I stepped away from Valen and went to the woman staring at the sky, her hand on her belly.

“Siv,” I whispered.

Siverie peered over her shoulder, a glisten to her eyes. “Do you think he’s here, Elise? I don’t want to leave him behind.”

My throat burned. I wrapped her in my arms. “He’s always with you, Siv. Gods, he loved—no, helovesyou. He’ll always be here, no matter where we are.”

She’d sniffed when she pulled back, wiping a few tears off her cheeks. “I should come with you.”

Siv was heavy with their child. I placed a hand on her belly and smiled. “I need you here. Protect these people, protect your little. We’ll return, I swear to you.”

“You . . . you and Valen, everyone who’s going out there, you’re all I have left.”

“And we’ll be back.” I trapped her face in my hands. “Don’t you dare have that babe without me.”

Siv let out a broken laugh and hugged me tightly. I refused to be the first to let go. Siv had been without Mattis barely over a week, and I suspected the shock of it was still settling. No mistake, if ever we found time for peace, the pain of his absence would come with a wretched vengeance.

When Siv released me and returned to the inner gates of Ravenspire with the others, I crossed into the gardens to those going out into the wood.

The rest of us, most of our armies, and the royal littles (for I doubted there would be any chance we could leave our young ones without the comfort of their families after what they’d seen) would trek for the light in the distance.

Our kingdom had shattered, but the same golden shimmer we’d seen before the break remained in the red sky.

Perhaps it was a ruse, a trap set to lead us in like a moth to a flame, but somewhere inside it felt . . . safe. Like home.

“We travel with little light,” Valen said, his voice lifting over the caravan. “Until we know what we’re facing, blades out, instincts sharp. Littles are kept on the inside.” The king took in his nephews, his nieces, his warrior’s young ones, then at last, his own daughter. Valen kept his gaze on Livia as he finished his instructions. “You all run if we command it, no question, no fighting. You run. Aesir.”

Halvar’s son snapped to attention.

Valen gripped the boy’s shoulder. “You’re the oldest of those not of age to fight. You’ll lead them if it comes to that. Can I count on you?”

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