Chapter 5

Dravyn

I surfaced in the mortal realm just as the sun was slipping behind the hilltops, splashing swirls of pinks and orange over the sky as it sank.

The river that had carried me here roared restlessly at my back. All the paths and waterways that snaked through Eligas—the name we gave to the space between the mortal and divine realms—felt restless as of late, ever since Karys had gone to battle in that in-between space.

During that battle, she'd managed to sweep a powerful elvish weapon away from the middle-heavens and into Eligas, preventing said weapon from doing catastrophic damage to the Tower of Ascension.

But the weapon had still ignited.

We didn't know how far the destruction had spread; Eligas was a strange place, difficult to map, its many shifting layers nearly impossible to truly inspect for damage.

All I could say for certain was that it felt different traveling through it now.

Everything felt different about this trip compared to the dozens of times I had made it in the past. And the restless, warped energy rising from the river, combined with my own strangely off-kilter powers meant I was already more tired than I should have been, even before I'd taken a single step onto mortal grass.

I soldiered on, all the same, my gaze fixed on a halo of light in the distance—the glow above the royal city of Altis.

I could only just make out my family's palace on the far side of the city, and only because the setting sun's light was reflecting off a wall of its windows with a dazzling shine that was difficult to miss.

I knew what room that was—the one with all those windows—even from here. It was an expansion of the study that lay behind it, a sunroom my mother had requested as an anniversary gift. My father had immediately dismissed the idea of a room with so many windows, and in such a precarious spot…only to summon the kingdom's greatest architect to the palace the very next day to make it happen.

A funny feeling spread through my chest as I thought about my parents—like an itch below the surface of my skin, just out of reach.

They had died several years ago. Mother first, from a terrible sickness that shriveled up her lungs, and father soon chasing after her as he'd been doing since the day they'd met. I'd heard about it secondhand from the Goddess of Stars—the one who kept record of all mortal lives and deaths—and I'd watched my brother's coronation from the shadows a week later.

He'd looked so alone.

Our siblings gone in the span of one violent night, and then our parents taken almost as quickly…yet, somehow, Fallon had stood tall and managed not to flinch as they placed the heavy crown on his head.

It was the only time I'd come close to regretting my decision not to show my face or speak to him.

I hadn't left him entirely alone, however; there were magical wards of my making around the palace here just as there were around my palace in the middle-heavens. I'd put them in place on his coronation day, and I returned regularly to make certain they were still intact.

I kept my eyes on the gleaming wall of windows as I walked—a room I'd taken especially great care to surround in hidden spells.

Some of my earliest memories were of sitting in it with my mother and my siblings, playing childish games, pretending to be dragons sunning ourselves in the warm beams of sunlight. I remembered few details, now; whenever I tried to focus on them, I was usually met with nothing more than a hazy, hot feeling, and occasionally visions of sunset colors bursting behind my eyes.

Reaching the edge of the city, I paused. I could have surfaced into this realm somewhere closer to the palace, but I'd wanted distance while I tested the current limits of my magic—and also to test out the ring Mairu had given me. As I twisted it a few times around my finger, the ruby-eyed dragon in its center emitted a soft hum that vibrated up my arm, tickling my skin.

I exhaled, surrendering to the spell.

As easy as that, my body began to shift its appearance whenever I moved, taking on the colors and textures of whatever I stood in front of. It was a weaker spell than what she could have performed in person; she was capable of more than mere camouflage, able to transform entire bodies into other bodies if she wanted to. But I could rely on stealth for my plans tonight, so this borderline invisibility would serve my purpose well enough.

"I suppose I owe you for this," I thought aloud, watching the ruby-eyed dragon shine in the setting sunlight.

It seemed to wink at me in response.

I summoned a few flames to my hands next, testing both their strength and my hold on them. Once I felt in control of the various magics at my disposal, I set off at a quick pace into the city.

I kept to the outskirts, stealing up and down smaller side streets I still vaguely remembered.

The air was filled with dozens of scents, each more tantalizing than the last. One could never predict the smells they might encounter when strolling through the streets here; Altis was a crossroads city, frequented by travelers journeying along the three major roads that ran through it. The exceptional amount of foot traffic drew merchants from far and wide. Tonight, the place smelled strongly of spices—mainly cinnamon and cardamom—mixed with the pine forests hemming the city in.

The sounds were more predictable. Shopkeepers pushing their goods in the common tongue or in occasional, heavily accented Galithian. Buyers bartering. Coins clinking as they exchanged hands.

As the sun dipped lower, the hum of noise featured more idle chatter and gossip about the day's events, with the competing chimes of the three temples serving as background music.

A few people shivered with awareness as I passed them, some looking twice at what maybe appeared to be a strange ripple in the air.

But no one truly saw me.

Sometimes they stared at the space where I stood for an unsettlingly long time, but ultimately just said a quick prayer under their breath, often while making the sign of the Sky Goddess—the deity best known and worshipped for her protective magic—before they turned and hurried in the opposite direction.

It was a strange feeling, this invisibility. I used to sneak out of the palace as a young adult, wide-eyed and following my older brother as he made his rounds at various questionable locales, drinking and gambling and swapping contraband goods with his friends. I hadn't wanted to be seen then, either, but it was a different kind of stealth. It had been exhilarating—a game.

My current invisibility felt more like being a ghost walking through a graveyard full of all the people and places I'd once loved.

I was very clearly here , but without being able to share that existence with anyone, did it matter?

As I drew nearer to the walls around the palace grounds, searching for the easiest place to quietly scale them, a sudden commotion caught my attention.

A small, harried unit of soldiers was converging on the main gates at a frantic speed, their leader shouting orders as they came. Two bodies were draped over two horses at the center of the company. It was difficult to see them from where I stood, but I was certain the bodies were barely moving, if at all.

I drew closer, first out of curiosity, and then because I saw the opportunity the clamor created for me: The guards at the main entry point had flung the gates wide open to allow the injured men to be carried inside.

Nobody noticed when I calmly made my way in behind them.

I'm not sure they would have noticed me even if I hadn't been using Mai's magic, given the levels of panic and disorder among them.

"Take them to the garrison and see to their wounds as best you can until the healer arrives," said a voice that sent a shiver of familiarity through me.

The voice's owner lowered his hood as the gates groaned shut behind us, and I was unsurprised to see a face I recognized glowing in the fading sunlight.

Black strings of hair framed a hollow face with silver-green eyes that were nearly always casting about in search of trouble. He moved with a slight limp, the result of a riding accident that had left his right leg mangled, its bones shattered too completely to properly set.

Captain Sordrin.

He'd served my father since before I was born. A decorated and well-respected soldier, advisor, speaker…and often the one who had caught my brother and me during our clandestine adventures into the city.

He growled out a few more orders to the rest of his soldiers before turning and striding toward the main doors of the palace.

I followed closely behind. If anybody was going to have useful information for me to gather tonight, it would likely be him and the circle he surrounded himself with.

My hunch about this was further confirmed only a moment later, as another familiar face—Lord Ryltar—met him on the front steps. Ryltar's eyes were wide as he watched the group in the distance carrying away the wounded, his rotund body shaking with anxiety as he wheezed for breath. "What the hell happened? You were on a routine patrol, yet I've heard—"

Captain Sordrin held up a hand, his gaze sliding toward the handful of people close enough to listen. "Not here. Gather whatever council we have available and meet me in the north-view room. And ready a messenger to send to His Majesty; he'll want this report as soon as possible."

A messenger?

So my brother wasn't here, it seemed.

Just as well.

It would be easier to focus on what I needed to find out if I didn't have to worry about seeing him—or him seeing me. I didn't want to see him. Regardless of what Rieta believed, I could in fact separate my divine obligations and plans from whatever lingering, complicated feelings I had toward what remained of my mortal family.

I paused with my foot on the top step, just for a moment. Though I had returned to this palace—and the city around it—numerous times over the past years, I rarely went inside the building itself.

But Sordrin and Ryltar had already slipped through the door and started down the hall.

Just as the footman pushed that heavy, steel door closed, I made myself step forward, darting inside, the drag of metal on marble covering the sound of my footsteps.

For a moment, I paused in the center of the atrium, staring at my family's coat of arms. It had been etched in gold against the floor—a shield wrapped in brambles with an eagle on one edge, wings unfurled, talons stretching toward a sword on the opposite edge.

Familiar sounds and scents assaulted me as I stood there. It was officially sundown—the hour when prayer and occasional fasting and offerings began among the more devout palace inhabitants—which meant smoky trails of incense, pungent whiffs of floral offerings, and the hum of prayer and soft chants as people made their way to the various shrines spread throughout the palace and its grounds.

It didn't escape my notice how amusing these humans were, preparing prayers and offerings to gods without realizing one was currently walking among them.

I didn't recall there being so many devout palace inhabitants in the past. How much did they all know about what was happening to the north? Maybe they were praying more earnestly because they were afraid of more men returning to the palace, lifeless, on the backs of their horses.

In my experience, few things inspired prayer more than fear.

I knew where the north-view room Sordrin had referred to was located, so I didn't worry about losing track of him. Instead, I took my time as I walked through the halls of my old home, studying it closer—but not too close.

In truth, I struggled to strike a balance; I'd come to gather information, which necessitated a closer look and an eavesdropping ear toward everything…but to look or listen too closely was to invite a trip down memory lane that I had no interest in taking.

As I reached my destination, several members of the summoned council reached it simultaneously. I hesitated, waiting for the right moment to make my next move.

I ended up slipping in alongside Lady Meira, an elderly woman who'd served as an advisor to my family for so long she was even closer to a ghost than I currently was; needless to say, her deteriorating eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary as I slid past her.

Once inside, I moved silently to the wall farthest from the table most of them were gathering around, pressing back against it and narrowing my gaze on Captain Sordrin.

As expected, he spoke first.

"One dead, two severely wounded."

A chorus of disgust and outrage rippled through the room.

Sordrin held up his hand, silencing them as he had Lord Ryltar earlier. "We never made it to Ederis proper, as we'd planned—only to what appears to be a new base they're trying to establish just north of the upper Berlnath river. A base very close to Ghaun. We spoke with some of Ghaun's inhabitants, and they confirmed that our old enemies have been terrorizing them. Nothing too harrowing, as of yet—only petty thievery and threats. But the citizens of Ghaun are afraid."

Ghaun was a small village with a dwindling population; it had once been a booming town, but most of the younger, more able bodies had migrated further south over the past decades—into Altis. So its population was elderly, its resources scarce, its ability to defend itself nearly non-existent.

The room turned Sordrin's words over in silence for several moments, until a man with ash-colored hair and unsettlingly bright green eyes sat up straighter in his seat, cleared his throat, and said, "So they're spreading beyond even the places we originally feared. Out of the Hollowlands and into the kingdom at large. Creeping their way closer to our own fair city. And attacking Ghaun along the way? By the gods…what business could they have in that peaceful place, if not abject destruction? They are the lowest of the low."

I braced my hand more firmly against the wall behind me. The grey-haired man's words mirrored what Halar had told me: The rebel Velkyn were in fact spreading, positioning themselves in threatening ways, likely preparing for larger attacks.

Now the main question I had was what the human kingdom planned to do about this encroachment.

How close were they to a true war?

How much time did we have to get control over these things?

Unfortunately, the council before me seemed incapable of agreeing on any plans. They went round and round for what felt like hours, proposing ideas that were all immediately criticized and picked apart, bickering with one another and hurling insults until it was all I could do to keep myself still and silent. If my brother had been here, he would have silenced them all and taken control of the conversation, steered it in at least a somewhat productive direction—something Captain Sordrin was trying but repeatedly failing to do.

But Fallon is not here, I reminded myself. So stop thinking about him .

I watched the chaotic scene unfolding around me with perfect silence and stillness, until finally, it seemed to be decided: they would station defensive units around Ghaun. That much was easy.

Then, if their king approved, they would mount an offensive attack to try and drive the elves back into the shadowy bowels of the Hollowlands. Those elves could not be allowed to believe that they had the freedom to go wherever they wanted to, to make whatever messes they cared to.

"They think we're afraid to answer their threats with fire of our own," said a woman I didn't recognize. "They will find that they are sorely mistaken about that."

A low murmur of agreement filled the room.

The words left me feeling as if I was witnessing a dangerous shift, like the beginnings of an avalanche breaking free while I stood, powerless and unnoticed, at the bottom of the mountain.

After a bit more discussion, the councilmen and women filed out of the room, still conversing among themselves with rapid tongues and serious tones.

Captain Sordrin was soon the only one left. He stood silently, nursing a pewter mug full of something a servant had brought him, as he stared out the room's only window.

I looked to the window, too. It seemed pitch black outside; how long had I been hiding in this room? I chanced a few steps closer for a better view, but froze as the captain glanced my direction, his ever-alert eyes darting about as they usually did.

I kept perfectly motionless, holding my breath.

And yet, as his gaze seemed to meet mine, for a brief, foolish moment, I found myself wanting him to see me. To find me as he used to. Even if it meant trouble. Even if it meant answering to my older brother—or worse, to my father. I might have welcomed an excuse to be dragged before the feet of either of them.

But Father was dead.

Fallon was not here, and even if he had been, he was complicated and potentially dangerous.

So I kept still, clutching the Serpent Goddess's ring and willing myself to remain unseen.

A moment later, Sordrin slammed the cup on the table and left the room, his injured leg dragging even more so than usual, as if close to buckling under the weight of all that had been discussed.