CHAPTER 22

I woke before Erix, and I felt nothing but relief at the knowledge. The moment my eyes crept open and the realisation of what'd happened between us returned to my consciousness, I itched to clamber out of bed and get some fresh air.

Was it my regret, or the worry that he'd wake with second thoughts – I wasn't sure. Either way, I needed to get out.

I dressed on quiet feet and slipped from the home, all without Erix even stirring from his position. My eyes lingered, only for a moment, on the slow rise and fall of his broad chest and the way his breath whistled out of his parted mouth.

He was my distraction, but now I needed a distraction from him, and seeing Berrow in daylight was the perfect thing to stop my mind from wandering to his touch and how my lips felt sensitive. Or, how my body still echoed with the memory of him.

The world beyond the home was white and endless. A light flurry of snow fell from the thick clouds above, not a single one allowing a slip of sunlight through. It was hard to tell the time of day without knowing where the sun was in the sky.

I stepped out into the street, footsteps blurred behind me in moments as fresh snow filled the divots I made with my boots. It was cold. Freezing. So much so that my teeth chattered in my jaws, threatening to shatter if I didn't stop. But I cared little for my own discomfort as the muffled daylight gave view to the true vision of Berrow.

Homes weighed heavy by timeless bouts of snow and ice. I couldn't imagine anyone having lived here. This was a place only of frozen, frigid air brave enough to tenant the empty and ruined homes that stood around me.

I walked up the street, footfalls muffled as though I walked on clouds of cotton. Even as I wrapped my arms around my chest, I couldn't keep the cold at bay.

The worst part of this place was the silence. Not a sound dared shatter the peace of the frozen village, which gave way to my mind's own roaring of thought.

On I moved, trying to make sense of what life in Berrow would've been like before the ruin. And in a way, it reminded me of Grove. Home, small yet cluttered, a place for working people who never got to benefit from the wealth of coin – only the wealth of life.

Skeletal trees – bark blackened with frostbite – haunted the sides of streets like guardians of death. Waiting and watching. And what unsettled me the most was the lack of wildlife. Birds didn't fly through the tense air. There were no signs of prints across the ground from deer or rabbits, creatures I would've expected to see thriving among the ruins of a village like Berrow.

It quickly became clear why.

At the end of the street, the houses and buildings simply stopped, giving way to a view that snatched my breath away. Besides the ruins of winter, there was one great difference between this place and Grove. Grove wasn't built on the precipice of a cliff. Berrow was.

Winds whipped around me, tugging at the black strands of hair and at the unfortunate bits of loose material I wore. One moment the street was ongoing, and the next, it stopped. There was the hint of an old stone wall before me, almost invisible above inches of thick, white snow; and beyond it was a view unfathomed and unimaginable. It was as though the fey god Altar punched down from the skies, carving a crater into the earth so deep and wide that I could see from here to the coastal line at the far edges of the Icethorn Court.

I raised a hand to my brow, trying to stop the fat flakes from ruining the vision before me as I looked over the land for as far as my eyes would allow. Far ahead of me, a crown of mountains proudly stood from the ground like the edges of jagged teeth, each topped with grey, white and black. From my standing, they looked small enough to pick up. But I recognised that they were each a grand size that it'd take days – if not weeks – to climb to the peak.

The land beneath me was bursting with fields, forests and hills, each covered in the white of winter but a blanket of different shades. Patches of deep ivory gave way to the dark of coal and the pure, glistening sheets of moonlight silver.

But the sight that stood out the most, where my eyes seemed drawn to, was a shard of black and ivory which stood out in the distance. Nestled among the mountain range, pointing skywards like a blade of night thrust from the bellies of the earth, was a castle.

An impressive building had been built into the walls of the mountain. The stone glistened like crystal, winking light over the land around it.

"Imeria."

I jumped out of my skin, turning to see Erix step in beside me, his face a grimace as he battled the harsh weather. He didn't apologise for his sudden appearance, even though it made my soul split from my skin. "What you are looking at is the capital of Icethorn. Your home, or what could be if you accepted it."

I glanced back from his scrunched face to the shard of obsidian stone. "Home? It feels far from it."

"The title is one that is earned. And since this is the first time you are laying eyes on it, I do not expect you to make a choice now. I only ask that you recognise it for the possibility it could be. Perhaps I should have used another word to describe it, but I am not one to sugarcoat the truth."

From a distance, it was hard to believe that the shard was anything but a shard. I couldn't make out any details. But I could imagine the grandeur. And I wanted nothing more than to stand so close before it that I could touch its walls with my bare hands.

"You should have woken me," Erix said, a tired edge to his voice. "It is not safe for you to roam alone."

"I am fine, Erix." A bubble of frustration popped in my chest.

"All I want is for you to be safe."

"And all I wanted was some fresh air. That's all."

I felt his eyes on me, but dared not turn around, frightened of what I'd find in them.

"There's something you need to understand, Robin." Erix's hand found the small curve at the bottom of my back and stayed there. "The gryvern aren't the only threat that I worry about. Look…" He lifted a finger and pointed in the distance. His arm angled upwards as though gesturing to the cloud-grey sky. "Do you see it?"

I squinted, narrowing my focus on whatever Erix wished for me to see. "I feel as though I'm searching for a needle through curtains of heavy lace. What exactly do you want me to see?"

"Just focus," he purred. "Open yourself to it. Feel it."

I almost gave up, sure Erix was pulling my leg. But then my eyes caught something – a movement in the distance. An unclear shape, violent and sharp. It shuddered through the sky above Imeria no different to a beast of wind, ice and ruin. It was close to impossible to make out the details, but like the mountains and the castle, it was also imposing in size. It was the colouring that made it hard to see among the rest of the grey and white of the sky. A mass of power, like a cloud of frantic energy slicing and jabbing, sped through the sky. It reminded me of a dragon, or even Gyah in her Eldrae form, but it was without wings, just a form of cold, winter wind and ice that circled the castle from the skies like a flock of birds.

But, even from my distance, I could taste its power. Laying my eyes upon the wild magic, it tugged at the cord that had settled calmly in my chest.

"So that is what could destroy Durmain?" I asked, almost fearful of speaking loudly as though it would hear me across the great divide and come to devour me.

"Yes. Your magic. The unclaimed power that is the threat to the Wychwood boundary and those within the human realm beyond. Robin –" The use of my name chilled my blood to ice far more than the horror we witnessed. "– it was important you saw this for yourself. Maybe it can help inform your decision."

As if what I'd seen hadn't already helped with that.

I'd listened to the talk of accepting the court and claiming it as my own, but I had not once imagined it being a physical obstacle to overcome. In fact, I'd not truly allowed myself to imagine what it had meant. Now, standing on the edge of a cliff that gave way to the rolling view of a court, my court, I had never felt so small.

This was the magic that came to my aid last night.

My birthright.

"No matter what decision you hope to see me make, I must tell you now… I don't think I can do it." I admitted my worry aloud, letting the words cloud before me in a puff of condensation within freezing air. "Look at it. I hardly know what I am doing with this… this power inside of me, and now I am expected to control that thing? I met a fraction of it last night, and almost didn't see it through. If you hadn't–"

I couldn't finish what I was trying to say. But Erix didn't need me to. In the silence that followed, the answer was loud.

If you hadn't have saved me with your touch .

"Do not doubt yourself." Erix's fingers tensed on my back. "It is unbecoming of a prince."

"I'm no prince," I scoffed, disagreeing. "I'm a simple man who can pour a pint of ale without wasting foam, who wishes for a family but will only ever have half of one. I'm no prince, no matter if that is the title you believe I should have."

"Actually, little bird, you're right. You are no prince, you are a king. And, most importantly, you are what you decide to be."

I sighed, tearing my attention from the cloud of frantic, jolting power to Erix, my stomach hardly settling from one beast to the other. We shared a moment of silence, my mind quickly drifting to the entanglement of our limbs in the dark room. Did he think of the same thing? His brow lifted, and his lips tightened as though something crossed his mind.

"Even if I'm to claim the court, how exactly am I to do so? That thing out there will destroy me. I'm one person, look what it's done to an entire kingdom. I'm no match for it. You cannot disagree with that."

"I have already made my thoughts clear on the matter," Erix said, his voice a rumble of deep, lush tones. "You are an Icethorn. You are the kingdom, whether you are willing to believe it or not."

"Your poetic words are doing nothing but distracting me from the answer I seek. Or do you not even know how I would accept the court, if I decided to?"

I studied Erix, waiting for him to drop my gaze or nibble on his lower lip to hide that he was going to follow up with a lie to calm me. But he never did. He held my gaze as though he watched on at a storm coming to sweep him away in a rolling wall of power. He didn't falter from my questioning, only faced it head-on.

"We were all brought up on the story of the first four children of Altar and how they claimed the courts which we live beneath to this day. It was said that they each bled for a season, blood giving way to power. It was taught that they claimed the powers, whereas I always believed it was the other way round. The aged and twisted story of the first members of the courts is the only indication of what is expected of you. But there are scholars and ancients across Wychwood tasked with researching if that is myth or guidance."

"I'm to bleed?" I repeated, skin prickling at the thought. "And let that… that thing enter me? That is what I must do? Seems like a risk to me."

Erix's face pinched with worry, but it was little in comparison to what I felt storming inside me. "If it is, in fact, a tale of truth, then it may be what is required. But it is far beyond my knowledge to confirm. It is merely a story, one that we should treat with caution until it is researched further."

"Then I hope they find another way," I whispered, looking back to the thundering of power as it dominated the sky above Imeria. "Even if I stop the promised storm, what is to stop the fey from still following through with war?"

"That is yet to be determined."

"I hope we find the answers we need then," I replied.

"As do I. But, little bird, remember that you have called upon the magic before. I do not doubt you can do it again. There's a seed of it within you; the tree to which that seed belongs is far out there. Like calls to like."

Watching the physical mound of power wither and thrash, I could imagine how it had damaged the Wychwood barrier to the point of destruction. It was like the smashing of an angered fist against the splintered wood of a door, banging over and over until it was ready to knock the door from its hinges.

I looked back to Berrow, then to the white sheet of the world beyond, imagining Grove and the rest of Durmain in the same state. A worry so great gripped its nasty, poisonous talons into my heart and squeezed, snatching my breath away.

"Do you really think I can do it?" I asked, my voice whisked away by the wild, roaring winds.

"I believe you can do anything you desire," Erix replied, soothing the beating of my heart like balm over a wound. "But for you to be successful, it is you who must believe. It matters little of what others think, wish or believe."

Erix echoed something I'd felt my entire life leading up to this point. I was never one to worry about what others saw of me. I'd grown used to seeing my reflection in their wide, untrusting and sometimes belittling stares. I'd hardened myself, like a rock, layering a shell of protection around my psyche to stop people's thoughts and views from hurting me.

But that'd all been stripped away, and I'd not been brave enough to realise until now.

"You must think I'm soft," I said. "Because I feel as though I couldn't live with myself, knowing what I'd unleash across the realm if I didn't do something about it."

"I think you are perfect." Erix's hand slipped from my back and wrapped itself around my side. One great tug, and I was pressed to him, his arm holding me like the folding of a wing. "Soft, maybe. But you are also brave. A brave, soft fool, who will change the course of history. I sense it."

I thanked him with a smile, but from the concerned tug of his lips, I could tell he knew I didn't think of myself the way he thought of me.

"If I have to bleed to prevent others from doing so, then my decision should be an easy one."

"And is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But I'll figure it out."

"And I will be beside you when you do, little bird. Every step of the way."

Tension was thick in the air of Aurelia. Even the trees seemed still, as though they suffocated beneath the heavy atmosphere that'd settled over the city.

Gyah had collected us from Berrow as promised, her midnight-scaled body touching down clumsily in the snow-covered streets sometime in the early afternoon. At least, I believed it was Gyah, and not another Eldrae. Only when she landed beyond the grand castle in Aurelia did I truly know it was her. Exhausted, with eyes rimmed with shadows and skin ashen, she stumbled a step the moment she reclaimed her fey-form, weak in the legs. Erix tried to assist, but she waved him off, instead urging us to follow her immediately.

We walked through the quiet corridors of the castle, hardly a person or guard to be seen, only our footsteps echoing over the tall walls and high ceilings could be heard.

There was no room for questions, not that Gyah had refused answers, but we both knew not to speak, otherwise, it would've shattered the strange nature of the manor and the city beyond.

Mourning. Aurelia was locked in grief. That was what this feeling was like. Quiet, still and never-ending mourning. For Orion.

Guilt pinched in my gut for taking so long to notice it or even think of him. After my night with Erix, it seemed the hardness of his body and the gentle nature of his touch was all I could contemplate. It was the distraction I had longed for, but as we passed through a hallway that Orion would never have the luxury of wandering again, all I felt was selfish and wrong.

I wondered if Erix felt the same? He hardly spared me a glance the moment Gyah had collected us. But even now, walking side by side, I sensed his desire to flex a hand just for our fingers to brush.

I longed for it too, another distraction, even now.

We passed down a corridor of banners, each one barely moving, the emblem of Cedarfall's burning tree as still as water on a frozen lake.

Windows lined the opposite wall, stained with orange and red, causing waves of colour to wash over our boots. I knew this walkway from the night of the ballroom, making it clear where Gyah escorted us to.

I was thankful when Gyah broke the silence, standing before the great doors. "Good luck in there."

"Dare I ask why we require luck, Gyah?" Erix replied, lips pinched with tension.

Gyah blinked slowly, eyes heavy as though she fought to keep them open. "I am too tired for questions, Erix. Let the Cedarfall family explain. I have done what I have been required to do."

I offered her a smile, trying to show my gratitude. "Thank you, for everything, Gyah."

She studied me for a moment, eyes more alert than they'd been up until this point. Then she bowed her head as though I was both a stranger and someone of great importance, not a person she had travelled and fought beside. "It was and is my honour."

With that, she left us, one hand steadying herself along the wall as she walked away on heavy feet.

"Any guess as to what is going on?" I muttered, unable to shake the strange way Gyah looked at me.

"The vendors and shops are closed, meaning that the city has ceased normal activities in response to Orion's death. It is customary to stop normal life when a member of the head families of the courts perishes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "That's understandable."

But what about guards that had been my shadow since we've returned? Where are they? I'd not seen a single person here besides Gyah and Erix. The manor felt so empty.

Erix raised a palm and pressed it against the door. "Let's not keep them waiting. I have the sense that those left are behind here, waiting for us."

"Althea?" I asked, keeping his gaze even though I wanted nothing more than to look at my feet.

"Only one way to find out."

Althea did, in fact, wait for us beyond the door. She paced the empty ballroom floor with her knuckles pressed to her mouth in contemplation. She looked up at us as we stood on the balcony. She wore a fresh set of fighting leathers, with belts hugging weapons to almost every limb I could see. Even the twin-bladed axes waiting patiently at her hips had been cleaned, and I could only imagine that the curved ends of the blades were sharpened for the next time she needed to use them.

"About time," she shouted up at us. "I was moments from sending out a search party for you all."

"We are fine, Althea," Erix responded, urging me to follow him down the curved staircase. "I have never seen someone as tired as Gyah. She did her best at returning us."

"I told her we could have sent another for you, but she insisted. Do not make me feel guilty for her decision." Althea was on edge, I could tell, as though her emotions danced on the edge of a sharpened blade.

Anxiety swelled in my chest as I put myself between Althea and Erix. "Where is everyone else?"

"Taken for questioning. This is my aunt's domain, and my mother felt it necessary to ensure that every member of her household and staff are investigated. It is clear your life is at risk, and I will ensure that no member of this family, or yours, is threatened until the Passing."

"Kelsey, she was behind it?" I asked.

Althea shook her head at me. "Still unconfirmed. She is refusing knowledge and pleading ignorance, but my brother has lost his life. But Mother needs someone to blame. The Hunter is in for questioning, but it is clear that, beside the information he has already shared to us, he knows little more. However, for the sake of my mother's sanity and Aurelia, it is best her wrath is kept smothered… for now."

An image of fire burning through the city, and everything beyond, filled my head. Was that the power of the Cedarfall Court, much like the storm of ice that threatened the world if left unclaimed? I'd seen the destruction my family's magic could wreak; I could only imagine the burning wrath of Queen Lyra rolling over the lands and leaving nothing but ashes behind.

"How is she?" Erix asked, snapping me from the horrific image in my mind.

"Taut, like a string pulled too tight," Althea said through gritted teeth. For a moment, her stare was lost to a place behind us, but she soon snapped out of it, eyes focusing back in on me. "My parents have awaited your return. They almost refused it, agreeing you would be safer in the lands of your court than returning here. But it set them, my mother in particular, at unease knowing you were alone there."

"He was never alone," Erix quickly added.

Althea looked to him, then back to me, as though she mentally measured the cord that glowed between us.

"I suppose he was not." Althea swept between us towards the staircase we had not long come down. "They wait for you in the next room. I would join you, but I have another that I must see first, although I will find you once we are equally well-rested."

"Briar," I called out to Althea, who faltered for a moment. She glanced back over a shoulder, her face framed with red curls that made her pale skin stand out with dramatic beauty. "Is she well?"

"Tarron Oakstorm was right. The antidote was what she needed." A faint smile, one that sang with relief, cracked across her face. "Briar is awake, and her condition has been improving rapidly since we came back."

I let my shoulders relax, fists flexing into splayed hands at my sides. "That is really good to hear, Althea."

"It is. Perhaps you can thank him for me. Saves me having to speak to him."

"Thank whom?" I asked, brows furrowed.

Erix stiffened, his fists balling at his sides, a faint rumbling building in the back of his throat.

Althea flicked her stare to the doors at the far end of the ballroom, the very same that led to the council meeting nights prior. "Our esteemed guest. Tarron Oakstorm, only son and heir to the Oakstorm Court. But make it quick. The sooner he leaves Aurelia, the better."