Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

Being on Evander's back again erases the last thoughts of Bardulf. The wrongness of that man is left on the breeze. Left for the grasses and wind to reclaim. A chapter of my story that I didn't even realize I was writing has been closed—a burden lifted of questioning the unknowns surrounding my mother's death that I hadn't known I was asking. The only thing about it that matters now is how we are going to navigate Bardulf's disappearance when we arrive in Den, and how we'll take Aurora away.

Which is what Evander and I debate as we walk, side by side. He dropped out of his wolf form not long ago, saying we're only about an hour from Den, and this will be the last chance we have to talk before we arrive.

"Could we say he never met up with us?" I'd been turning the idea over in my head for the better portion of the morning. "Say that he must still be in the forest. Perhaps you could use that as an excuse to leave for the forest to find him and then?—"

Evander lifts a hand. "I must stop you there. Conri already knows he's dead."

"He does? The oath?" I ask. Evander nods and I curse under my breath. "What do we do, then?"

"You're going to have to admit to killing him," Evander says plainly.

"Have you lost all your better senses?" I stop in my tracks, too stunned for a moment to continue.

"You're going to have to trust me." Evander stops as well and takes my hand.

"Obviously I do." I force myself to keep going. Even though we're not sprinting, we need to keep making progress toward Den if we want to make it back without Conri suspecting anything more than he already will. "What I don't trust is that madman who clearly has been murdering innocent people and retaining power at all costs."

"Nor should you trust him, outright. But there is one thing about Conri that we can trust."

"And what is that?"

"That he is going to always be looking out for himself. You're right, he'll retain power at all costs, and we need to make sure he sees Bardulf's death as a price of that." Evander shifts his grip on me, fingers lacing against mine.

"Because that doesn't sound risky at all," I mutter under my breath.

"Oh, it'll be very risky."

I stop without warning and yank him toward me. Evander lets out a noise of surprise before our lips meet. With my free hand I grab his hip, pulling him closer, feeling the hard length of him against me. My fingers slip over the curve of his rear, giving it a firm squeeze. Another noise of surprise that drops into the back of his throat and becomes almost like a growl as I pull away.

"What was that for?" he asks, as lazily as the smile that slips across his lips.

"Because I could—because I won't be able to soon."

The smile falls. His expression becomes gravely serious. "No matter what happens, know that I love you."

"So long as you don't forget the same." I search his gaze, trying to find any trace of doubt. There's worry. Fear. But not doubt. I am reassured by its absence.

"I will find a way, again, to come to you. We figured it out before. We will again." His conviction is more worrying than reassuring. Before, Evander was a relief, amusement, mild interest that could be something more, but I wasn't too bothered by the idea of it evolving or not.

Now he's everything.

"Let's just keep focused on staying safe and escaping. Once we succeed, we'll have the rest of our lives to enjoy being together." I force a reassuring smile, for myself as much as him.

Evander returns it and releases my hand as we begin walking together again. "Now, here's what will happen when we arrive at Den, and what you're going to need to do…"

We spend a little less than half an hour walking and going over all the plans. I practice lines and commit them to memory. Then, he returns to his lykin form to make up the time. For that last half hour as we're racing through the rolling grasslands, my mind is as blank as the fog that is perpetually settled on the land of the lykin. The farther northwest we go, the thicker the haze gets, to the point that I must believe Evander is navigating on memory, magic, and lykin senses, because I can't see much beyond my hand in front of my face.

He warned me that the fog grew thicker the farther north one went in the plains. But I wasn't expecting it to be this severe. We could be about to topple over a cliff and into the sea and I would not know until we were in free fall.

So it's all the more striking when, out of nowhere, the fog parts like a breath. A sharp inhale where the claustrophobia of the thick clouds is lifted and a column of sunlight warms my shoulders from the damp chill of the ride. Even in sunlight, my teeth are nearly chattering. We're far enough north that the day can't sweep away the cold that sank into the earth in the night.

A forest has fossilized in the dip of a valley. Large, stony trees, each the size of the mighty redwood I grew up revering, shelter the ancestral home of the lykin with boughs of glistening silver leaves. Reaching out, I press my palm into the bark of a tree as we pass. It's as smooth as a polished river rock, as cool as crystal. Though it looks and feels like a sculpture, it hums underneath my hand like a real, living tree would. They breathe in sunlight and the crisp, cool air and exhale life.

Underneath their dappled shade is what could, loosely, be described as a town. The majority of the structures are tents, only a few permanent collective homes and buildings. I recognize some of the tents as what I saw when we were out on the plains. Stunning feats of cord and tarp—manor houses, practically, made entirely from canvas and tension.

What structures are permanent are mismatched, added onto, and clearly constructed by different hands over different times. Stone buildings lined with moss, crumbling on one side, have new additions made of wood so fresh that it still smells of sap. Some buildings are more like halls that snake around the trees, room after room added on.

Every structure has lykin occupying it. They emerge from doorways and tent flaps. Halt their fire tending and sparring. I feel as though it is the first time I have arrived at the lykin all over again. The surreal sense of repetition grows as Conri races over to meet us.

Evander slows his pace, stopping before Conri reaches us. Evander sinks to the ground so I can dismount, then stands as a man. I adjust my cape around me and immediately begin walking, leaving Evander behind, as if I am all too relieved to see Conri. The wolf king changes into his human form and runs the rest of the way to me on two feet, throwing out his arms as if he is genuinely worried. Genuinely fearful for my well-being.

"Words cannot express how relieved I am to see you." He crushes me against him so tightly that I'm forced to exhale. It's like he's trying to absorb me into him. I'm sure if he could squeeze out Aurora's magic, he'd press me until my ribs cracked and eyes popped.

Still, I have a role to play. "My darling king, I missed you immeasurably." My words are almost shrill, as though I am fighting back tears. Luckily, I've had enough practice fighting back actual tears recently that I know how to adjust the tenor of my voice to make it convincing.

"What happened to Bardulf?" He releases me to look me in the eyes. Searching for a lie, no doubt.

In my periphery, I can see Aurora's shape. She's too hazy to make out her expression. But she's here. Good . I steel myself for what's to come next.

"I killed him," I speak plainly. No trace of guilt or remorse. I do not shrink away.

Conri stares at me, the words settling upon him. He blurts a noise of disbelief and shakes his head. He steps away, hands on his hips, and shakes his head again. Those who have gathered begin to whisper amongst themselves.

I'm forcing air in and out of my lungs. Breathe. Normally. How do I do that again? All I want to do is hold my breath, or let it quicken with the pace of my heart—a pace that I am also trying to keep slow.

He killed your mother . The thought sobers me and helps me keep calm despite my nerves. It sharpens my focus on the whetstone of revenge.

Conri turns to face me again. His eyes narrow slightly, as though he's working to bring me into focus. "How?"

That question alone tells me Evander's suspicions were right. Conri isn't asking why I killed Bardulf. He doesn't care one of his most loyal knights is dead. And my motive is secondary to finding out how I overpowered the man—a knight that killed another witch without issue.

"You sent me to find spirits that I could call upon for your causes—to bring glory to your name. That is what I have done."

"And how is killing Bardulf bringing glory to my name?" Conri cocks his head to the side. The air is still. As if this whole place is in tune with his every movement and the ebb and flow of his emotions.

"Forgive me for being the bearer of this news, my king, but Bardulf was not loyal to you," I say, still holding my head high. "I had to do it, because I was not about to let him take what is yours."

"What is mine?" he prompts me to continue. I can't read his expression, though, and his tone is neutral.

"Bardulf came to us in the woods and he saw my command of a new and powerful spirit that I was bringing back for you. I believe he intended to use it to usurp you."

Conri shakes his head. "Bardulf, no…no, he wouldn't."

"He followed me when I went to bathe. He attempted to seduce me and when that failed, he attempted to lay his hands upon me." None of it is a lie, so as Conri continues to probe me with his stare, I can meet it evenly. "Throughout it all, he attempted to use what felt like magic on me to coerce me to his side. I can only imagine that he intended to convince me to use the power of the spirits against you."

Aurora's power, too , I leave unsaid. Though, judging from Conri's expression, he hears it. This is the risk of the angle Evander and I have decided to put on our tale. There was no hiding the matter. Conri knew Bardulf was dead the moment that we entered Den. The best outcome would be to convince Conri that I was the one to kill him and that it was for a good reason.

But that reason is going to emphasize that Aurora's power is split, and as long as it is, there might be others who will try and claim me to challenge Conri. His power isn't secure until he marries me or, better, returns Aurora's power to some kind of object he can easily keep in his clutches. Which will only hasten him doing the former or trying to kill me for the latter.

And there's the other danger of this plan. He now sees me as someone who is capable of killing. Who not only has the means, but the will to wield them thusly. That might push him in a single direction:

Kill me.

Not that he wasn't already leaning that way…but I've likely removed all doubt. Conri has spent his entire existence removing possible threats to his rule and now, in a way, I've become one.

Conri's eyes shift to Evander. "Is this true?"

"Every word." Evander doesn't miss a beat. "I had been moving to protect her from Bardulf's aggressions, but she acted before I could. Forgive me, my king, I had been asleep when it all started, or I would've been faster and Bardulf might have been able to face your judgment alive, as it should have been." Evander's tone ventures into disgust that I can feel directed at my back. We position ourselves at odds, and paint Evander as even more loyal in the process.

Conri stares at me for a long, tense minute. I think if he could end me here and now, he would. But he laughs, diffusing the tension, and claps his hands before opening them and motioning between the gathered lykin and me.

"Behold, your future queen! Is she not magnificent?" He crosses to me and wraps an arm around my waist. It reassures me that even though he no doubt sees me as a threat, he also sees me as a tool to continue having the other lykin fall in line. "Defending me and my crown from any who would dare act against us." He looks to me. "I cannot wait to make you my wife."

"Truly, you are not upset?" This is the only time I allow a trace of insecurity to sneak into my voice. I have made myself seem strong and dangerous enough. Now I want to reassure him that, even though I might be a threat, I am not a clever one. He doesn't need to worry about me scheming; I'm too afraid of upsetting him for that. This was all simply an unfortunate set of circumstances…

"Upset? No. I am grateful to know that you would defend yourself and that, above all else, you are loyal to me and me alone."

"There is no future for me but one by your side." Disgusting.

"Do not forget it." He hooks my chin and guides my face toward his, as though he is about to kiss me. But he doesn't and instead smirks at my forced expression of yearning. "I am everything and you are nothing without me."

I smile languidly. "Everything for you, my love."

"Now, you must display this spirit that was mighty enough to kill one of my strongest knights."

"It is a spirit of water, unfortunately. So I wouldn't be able to without?—"

"The great lake of Calduwyn is at the edge of Den, not far. We will go there now." Conri releases me and steps back.

"The great lake isn't a place where a spirit could—" Aurora tries to interject.

"We will go there now, I said," Conri stops her abruptly and changes into his wolf shape, leaving no room for debate.

I mount him as he clearly wants and brace myself. Not for the pace he sets. But for the hope that Volst will come again so soon, despite my recently having asked him for power. For if he doesn't, Evander's and my careful planning could all unravel.