Calla

The halls of Olmdere were bleak now with so many gone. A somber shadow blanketed my court. Briar, Maez . . . I felt Sadie’s absence so acutely, wishing she could be here with us to reconcile everything that had just happened to us. I even grieved Hector. I wanted to dream of skewering him through like I had Ingrid, but instead I dreamed of cornering him and demanding to know just one thing: Why? After all we’d been through, how could he turn his weapons on us, not just me but Grae, his oldest friend.

I shoved it aside. He was Sadie’s kill now. I’d let her deal with him. If only hate could be a singular emotion. If only the others didn’t crowd it out and temper its blaze. If only my mind could stop reliving every moment with Hector in Taigos wondering when—when—had he turned on us? How had Nero gotten his claws into him and Ingrid from so far away?

Ora’s palm gently settled atop my hand, and I realized I’d been picking at my fingernails until they bled. I’d shift and they’d be gone, and I’d pick them all over again and gnaw at the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

The evening air carried a slight chill that raised the hairs on my arms. We sat around the firepit on the upper terrace of the palace, overlooking the lively western quarter of the city. Sadie and Maez should be down there now, jigging to a fiddle player and besting the patrons at a game of darts. My gaze flickered to the woods beyond, where no swirl of smoke arose from the lone cabin, no windows afire with the light of a warm hearth. The secret dream Briar had never whispered even to me, the one she finally got to live, now sat cold and joyless on the shadowed horizon.

I took in our group huddled around the firepit. Grae, Ora, Mina, and myself. So few. Too few.

Sadie and Navin were still in Lower Valta on their way to southern Damrienn. Their harebrained plan to turn monsters into weapons of war was underway, but even with a legion of beasts under their control, I felt that hopelessness creeping in. Was this my only choice? Would I have to order monsters to slaughter every Wolf who didn’t bend the knee to me? All of Aotreas would be at war with us by the time the sun rose. Nero was spreading his campaign of hatred far and wide; soon Taigos would be infected and humans everywhere would suffer. I could see no path forward except for one of bloodshed.

Ora’s hand squeezed my arm. “Hope isn’t lost yet,”

they said as if reading my thoughts.

“Taigos is too busy with ranking and infighting to be a threat,”

Grae said, though that did little to comfort me. “Whatever is left of Valta will try to take Taigos while they are without a ruler. Which means the Ice Wolves will be too preoccupied with protecting their southern borders to orchestrate an attack on us.”

“But they would attack us, will attack us, once they get organized.”

I shook my head. “We are worse off than when we started. We don’t have a single ally on the entire continent now.”

“Wolf ally,”

Ora corrected. “We won’t find our allies with the Wolves right now. Once they see your strength, maybe, but right now we’ll find our allies with the humans. I think they’ll be more inclined than ever to support your cause, too.”

Mina knocked on the arm of her chair and I lifted my head. “You are the only ruler left defending the humans now,”

she signed. “People will rally to you. Galen den’ Mora will come to your aid once more.”

I remembered the battle in the grand hall just below out feet. “All those badges,”

I whispered, thinking of the sea of musicians who attacked Sawyn’s Rooks and the little embroidered badges hidden amongst the crowd.

“I’ve sent the songs down the wells,”

Ora said with a slow nod. “They will come.”

I slid my gaze to them. “Do they all have magic like yours?”

“Some have more potential for magic than others.”

Ora pursed their painted red lips, debating for a second before nodding. “I suppose there should be no more secrets between members of the Golden Court. I don’t know if they all will be able to control beasts, if that’s what you’re asking, but many might prove useful in times of war—healing the wounded, calming the frightened. Gods, even just helping an unsettled court sleep.”

“We should send the Songkeepers to Valta,”

Mina signed. “Have them train with Navin. He can teach them the songs and weed out the ones with the most potential.”

“They were once called officers in the Songkeepers army,”

Ora mused, contemplatively scratching the scruff on their chin. “I never thought I’d live to see the rise of such an army again. But you’re right. It’s time.”

Grae reached over and threaded his fingers through my own. “One person controlling a monster would be an advantage, but hundreds?”

He offered me a half-smile, one cheek dimpling. “If it can be done—”

“That is a big if,”

I cut in, unwilling to let in even a sliver of hope.

“If it can be done,”

Grae continued, squeezing my hand, “it might be enough to win a war.”

Ora chuckled, light and lilting. “How my ancestors would roll in their graves to see us now,”

they said. “The Songkeepers working with Wolves.”

Mina snorted. “To help the Wolves save humans, no less.”

“It might be enough,”

I murmured. “It has to be enough.”

Soon, I’d need to address the people of Olmdere. I’d need to tell my people what had happened in Taigos and give speeches rallying soldiers in a land that had barely known a season’s peace since the death of Sawyn. It was beyond cruel, pulling them from tyranny and thrusting them into another war. Soon, I’d need to be the strong Queen who held my head high and spoke with a reassuring confidence I didn’t feel inside.

Soon.

But now, alone with my most trusted friends and mate, I could be uncertain, defeated, afraid. They’d hold me together for this one night and then I’d need to lead again.

“Maybe we’ll have more luck on our side than we think,”

Grae said, tipping his chin to the sky.

My eyes trailed over the constellations, down, down, down to the point that just skimmed over the horizon: Damrienn. There the stars twinkled with a brilliant emerald light, reflecting the eerie green magic that I’d once seen Sawyn wield. Sorcerer’s magic. Maez’s magic.

My pulse thrummed in my ears as I stared up at the emerald stars filling the distant sky. “Sweet Moon, I hope she’s going to rescue Briar. Please, by all the Gods, be going to protect her.”

My windpipe squeezed as I added, “But she could be just as likely going there to kill my sister and everyone else in that palace. Death magic only sees enemies. She might not care who dies for her purposes any more than Sawyn did.”

“Perhaps the magic of their mating bond still lives on even with all of that violent magic inside her,”

Ora said. “It won’t be easy, but maybe she can fight that darkness, maybe she can find a way back to herself through that connection . . . or harness it at least to help her mate. Maybe their love is stronger than the darkness.”

The world took on a glassy sheen as my eyes welled, my cheeks heating as I remembered that sleigh disappearing down the mountain. Still, I was plagued by the ghosts of my screams. I subconsciously rubbed my hand down my thigh where I still bore the scar from the attack. The pain and fear echoed in me, resurfacing again and again. I prayed to any god that would listen, prayed that Ora was right, that Maez could fight with her sorceress magic for us instead of against us.

“Come on, Maez,”

I whispered to those twinkling distant stars. “Bring Briar back.”

“My cousin is stubborn. I have faith.”

Grae kissed my temple. “You’re stubborn, too, little fox.” His calloused palm trailed over the bolt of golden lighting across my collarbone. “You’ve battled a sorceress before and won. I have faith in us, in you. You will fight and you will win and you will bring peace to this land just as you wished with your dying breath.”

My hand reached up and covered his. I closed my eyes, mapping the trail of my scars in my mind. It gave me a little strength knowing I had that golden magic still singing through my veins. My family was stolen from me through fear of this power, for the allegiances I had to every person in my court. Grae was right. There were so many people in the shadows that stretched out over the horizon, people like me who wanted to claim their life, their destinies with two hands, just as Vellia had once told me to do. I couldn’t shrink myself down like I had in Taigos anymore. I needed to live bigger, louder, until my people believed they could, too. I knew being merem might never get easier, but I would get stronger until every single person in my court never felt the shame of trying to contort themselves into a box that never fit. I would make this court better than the one I inherited even if I had to die all over again trying.

“We’re going to the council chamber.”

I stood with a newfound resoluteness. I’d indulged my doubts; now I needed to rule. “We will mourn while we plan. Nero has started a war on humans.” I looked back up to the distant emerald sky. “And we will make sure he lives to regret that choice before we end him.”