Chapter 21

The next morning, minutes bled into hours as we rode, the silence so deep it was deafening.

"Howlers," Dane had explained before we left, "come down from the mountains to hunt the passes before they hibernate for the season. They're built like wolves but bigger, can move on two feet, but are faster on four. Be on the lookout for tracks. Tav and Tristan will guard our rear. If you see something, raise a hand, but no talking, and for fuck's sake, no shouting unless you want to end up in one of their stomachs."

So no one said a word.

Not about what was coming. Not about what we'd left behind.

The silence was comforting, not having to talk about the witches, or the brand on my arm, or this fucked-up situation Adele had maneuvered us into so effortlessly. My mother kept her hood up over her head, but her gaze landed on me every so often, questioning…evaluating.

Probably wondering how soon I'd sit on the throne she so coveted.

And I tried not to think about that, either.

Hope had swelled inside me when I'd discovered my mother was alive. I'd coaxed a thousand fragile dreams into existence, where I had a family once this fighting was over.

Now all of those fantasies turned to ash in the wake of her ambition.

I couldn't stop worrying about Raz and Zor, wondering what battles they fought on Darkhold, if dragons still existed. I turned my head to where Tristan rode behind us, green-gold eyes glowing with banked fire in the shadow of his hooded cloak.

We had a dragon of our own—okay, a wyvern, but pretty much the same thing—and anticipation shivered through me like the threads of fate once again wove their web around us.

Somewhere out there the Oracle searched for us.

The tunnels should have hidden us, but there were only so many places we could go, and she'd have turned her eyes to the east, toward Nightcairn Castle. From there…well, it didn't take a genius to figure out where we'd go next.

I turned in my saddle again, questions on my lips—but Tavion shook his head.

Right. No talking.

There were no signs of Howlers, but the higher we climbed into the mountains, the more breathtaking the scenery. Every breath fogged the air, and even wrapped in the thick coat, I shivered, but the views…

We stopped on an outcropping long enough to peer down over a small, quiet valley filled with dark green pines and tumbled rocks, a fast-running river racing along the bottom, the water as green as my eyes.

Tavion caught my gaze with a bone-melting smile.

This country was almost as beautiful as him.

Untamed and certainly dangerous, but enchanting, low-lying mists slung around the sides of craggy mountains, the opalescent water in the streams cold enough to take my breath away.

Dane was unerring in his directions, leading us down a hairline path hugging the mountainside, then through a craggy pass along a stream which, he murmured softly, was usually frozen over this time of year.

We spent our first night huddled deep in a cave around Tristan's fire, wrapped in furs and layers of clothes while Dane and Tavion took turns guarding the opening, staring out over the rock-filled crevasse. I crept closer to Tavion, crouching down beside him.

"Something occurred to me on the way here," I said quietly. "It's only a matter of time before the Oracle realizes we used the tunnels and ended up at Nightcairn. If she goes to the castle and finds Lucius there…"

Fear stole the rest of what I meant to say, but Tavion brushed my hand with his.

"My sire knows the risks, and before we left, Dane and I double-checked the wards. If she or any of her foul creatures cross them, Lucius has time to escape. There is an underground passageway from the kitchen that leads into the mountains." Tavion jerked his head back toward the fire.

"Now go stay warm, wife. I cannot stand to see you shivering."

Worry chased me into sleep, but I woke folded into Tavion's arms and as warm as I would have been in my own bed. Not that I had one of those anymore.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to stay at Nightcairn longer, Tavion," I murmured softly, watching the embers. "The castle is beautiful; I can see why you love it so."

His arms tightened around me. "There was a time when that place was my only idea of home." His chest expanded in a long, slow inhale. "When the thought of losing Nightcairn would have been the worst calamity I could have ever imagined. But you know what I realized?"

"What's that?" I nestled deeper into his arm, folded beneath my head.

"That Nightcairn would only be home if you were there with me. That without you, it's only a pile of stone and glass and wood. That this"—he ran his lips down the side of my face—"is as close to perfection as I am ever going to get."

I didn't know what to say to that, didn't know what to do with all these feelings swelling bigger and bigger in my chest, so I laid there with him wrapped around me, watching until the fire burned out.

We choked down a meager breakfast of bread and dried venison, saddled our horses, and were halfway through the next pass before the sun rose.

The snow started midmorning, huge, sticky snowflakes that built up on our shoulders and the tops of our hoods as we pushed north into territory few had ever seen. I spent most of that second day brushing off heavy snow and trying to stop from freezing.

The third day blended into the fourth, and by the fifth our food was running low. The storm had overtaken us, and Tristan melted a narrow path through the heavy drifts just so we could make headway. When his magic ran low, we pushed through the chest-high snow until our horses could go no further.

The cave we stopped at was barely big enough to hold the five of us, Tavion making sure I was huddled against the innermost wall, the safest place and the warmest. Adele found a spot at the far end of the cave and turned her back to us. My mother hadn't said a word for days, not that any of us had the energy to talk, only numbly following Dane's directions and trying not to fall off our horses.

Dane left his clothes in a pile to dry beside a fire made from Tristan's magic, his black wolf bounding off into the snowstorm to scout tomorrow's path into witch territory.

From the way Tavion stared after him, hands clenching, I knew he was dying to shift. To run.

Soon, I wanted to tell him.

As soon as I find the cure, you can run to your heart's content.

Dane returned and dressed without a word. I could barely keep my eyes open, layered in blankets by my fussbudget of a husband, too exhausted to do anything more than smile up at him in gratitude.

Dane settled beside the fire, his windburned cheeks glowing in the light. "We'll cross into coven land first thing tomorrow. Stay alert. Hands off your weapons. They'll kill you before you even see the blow coming."

"Do these witches have any redeeming qualities?" I asked softly. "I mean, they can't be completely horrible."

Tristan smirked then slanted me a look that clearly said, oh yes, they can.

"Some say the healing magic, the skill of mending flesh and bone, began with the witches, a gift from the Old Gods themselves before the talent died out and was lost to the rest of us."

"Lost…or hidden away?" Tristan wondered, his canny eyes gleaming.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Dane held his hands out over the smokeless fire, and I cast a shield of magic over the cave entrance, the air instantly turning warmer. "I heard a story once, that the tunnels weren't made by the Fae or the Old Gods."

"Witches dug the tunnels?"

The old shifter nodded. "The city Tempeste is built upon first belonged to the witches. They dug those escape routes while they waged a great war against the Old Gods, a war the witches lost. In revenge, the gods decimated their city, destroying their coven and their magic…well, their magic disappeared."

"What do you think?"

Dane shrugged. "It's only a story. I've heard so many over the years I don't know what to believe." His dark eyes pinned me with a look. "But I know this. That mark on your arm makes you a target. Whatever happens when we arrive, we stick close. The others will be here in a day or two. Until then, do not engage anyone."

The next morning we'd only been riding for an hour when Dane held up his hand in warning and we stopped.

After an overly complicated series of hand signals, a grim-faced Tavion trotted past us, bent his head to his uncle's, and disappeared around the next bend. Panic tightened my chest, then Adele's horse bumped against my leg.

"When we reach the High Barrens tomorrow, you would be wise to issue the first challenge. Anything less will be viewed as weakness."

I pulled my hood further over my face to hide my sour expression. "I'm not issuing a challenge to anyone. There will be no fighting. Tavion, Tristan, and I will decide what the right approach is, with Dane's input." I could hardly look at her, pity and rage warring inside me.

Perhaps they always would.

Perhaps my mother was just that—two contradictions that could never be reconciled. Part of me loved her…because of who she was. Part of me pitied her for what she'd endured. But then there was this…the ruthless, power-hungry side of Adele that I could not stand.

"You're making a mistake, Anaria. You cannot trust them." Adele's eyes were so bright a chill went up my spine. "These males will betray you like they did me. Leave you behind when they are finished with you."

"They won't," I told her. "This is different."

Gods help me, but our relationship was, for so many reasons.

But why would she think differently after they'd betrayed her? She had every reason to distrust them after what they'd done. Cruelty begets cruelty, Ember used to say, and she was right.

"Blood is all that matters, Anaria. Remember that."

"Loyalty is even stronger than blood, Mother. True loyalty can last forever."

I sensed Tristan behind me, closing ranks against the unspoken threat my mother represented. If Adele so much as touched me, he was there, ready to jump between us.

"I don't expect you to understand. But we are bound together by more than you will ever know. We belong together," I told her softly. "We were always meant to find each other, and now that we have, we have sworn to protect each other."

Her eyes narrowed down to slits beneath the hood of her cloak.

And gods help me, but I wasn't ready to give up on her.

"You can still be part of this, Adele," I said, Tristan's brow wrinkling in displeasure.

"I want you to be part of our family, but we have to be able to trust you. No more scheming behind our backs, no more plotting. Power will not heal your scars. But with trust, we could build a life where you can be happy."

"Happiness." She scoffed. "Do you even know what that is? Did you ever know happiness as a slave? Or while you were in Tempeste or Blackcastle? Happiness is a myth we tell ourselves to fool us into believing there is something better out there. There isn't."

"Happiness is having people I love and trust around me." I met Tristan's steady gaze. "Happiness is knowing this world is alive once more and will remain so for another thousand years. I've found joy in quiet corners and the laughter of my friends, and I will continue to do so until the day I die."

"Something a fool would say."

A smile bloomed on my mouth but anger raged in my heart, threatening to consume what little love I had left for her. "Someone else said that to me once. You're starting to sound more like her every day." I raked my eyes down my mother's fragile body. "I hope, for your sake, you do not end up like her."

I couldn't look at Adele for another moment, couldn't stand to hear her vileness. I kicked my horse and trotted away, ignoring Dane's hissed warning to stop, Tristan right beside me.

It wasn't until later, when we'd left her far behind, that Tristan finally asked, "Who called you a fool, Anaria?"

"The Oracle. She said I was foolish and idealistic to believe I could change the world."

He stayed quiet for a long time, gazing out over the endless sprawl of white. "I don't think you're foolish," Tristan said softly, snow falling so thickly we could barely see five feet in front of us. The entire world grew hushed, cocooning us in silence.

"Well, that makes one person." I could hardly muster a smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I think your dreams frighten the Oracle."

I shook my head, sending snow flying. "Nothing frightens her, Tristan, much less my dreams."

"Your dreams are bigger than yourself, Anaria. You don't desire power for power's sake. You want to change the world. Having dreams," he explained quietly, "makes you less likely to fall under her control. There is nothing she can offer you to entice you to give up your dreams, and she knows that. And that's what scares her because she will never be able to control you."