Chapter 7

That fast, I was surrounded by a wall of solid, pissed-off muscle.

Tavion to my right, Raziel on my left, Zor behind me, both hands braced on my shoulders. Even Tristan had drifted closer, palm resting on his baldric.

All of them focused on Torin with such intensity, Simon bared his teeth.

"An hour ago, Anaria nearly died," Zor said calmly. "Now you want her to, what…go up against the Shadow King to settle some grudge of yours? Try again, Torin. Anaria needs to rest and heal, not fight your battles."

Frustration barked through me. "I have opinions, if any of you even bothered to ask." Raz, at least, dipped his head contritely, but no one else was even listening.

"She'd be dead if I hadn't brought Bexley here," Torin countered as if I'd never said a word. "The only reason she's healed and alive is because of me. If anything, you owe me for that, too."

"I'm the one who actually saved her. With my magic, thank you very much," Bexley grumbled petulantly, tightening his pink and white robe.

"Shut up, Bexley," everyone said together, while I threw the poor, abused mage a look of apology because everyone was being such ungrateful arseholes.

"And she's sitting right here, while you all talk about me like I'm not." I snapped my teeth into the apple with a juicy crunch as everyone swiveled toward me. "I have my own opinions and I make my own choices, which you would do well to remember, Torin."

But she was right.

For better or worse, we were in this together now.

"However." I held her gaze. "I promised you a favor and I'll keep my word. What do you want?"

She and Simon traded another of those meaningful looks. "We haven't been entirely truthful."

Tavion snorted. "Well, that's a huge surprise."

"We've waited three hundred years for this moment, but we must capitalize on it now, while the world is in chaos. The Oracle is distracted." Torin's hands twisted into her stained gown. "But she won't remain so for long. I need your help, Anaria."

Any other time, I might have been rather smug that the High Seer of Tempeste needed my help.

But the world was on fire, and gods knew what she wanted.

"The same night Cosimo was captured, the Oracle imprisoned someone else. A friend. Zephryn." She drifted closer, Simon moving with her, as if he trusted us as much as we trusted them. "Zeph's powerful. Clever. He would help retrieve the pendant. Once he and Cosimo are both free, you'd have two more allies."

"Let me get this straight." Tristan, of all people, held up his hand warily. "You expect us to free your two friends, one of whom is being held captive by the Oracle, then traipse across the three realms to Solarys, where we kill the Shadow King, Anaria claims the magic, and then what? We go up against the Old Gods in some epic battle over who rules this new world?"

Torin shifted her feet. "Something like that, yes."

"You are crazy." Tristan shook his head as the fire blazed hotter. "We barely survived the last time, and the Oracle is stronger now. Younger now." His eyes glowed like embers. "Not that I'm surprised. You've always been willing to sacrifice us for your cause."

"Our cause," Torin corrected him. "This is our cause, because life under the kings was bad enough, but existing under Corvus and the Oracle will be a living death."

"The prison beneath Tempeste is empty." I nibbled the last good pieces of apple from the core. "If your friend was there, he's already gone."

And turned into a Reaper and wiped away on the desert plain by my magic, I didn't add, wincing at the memory.

"Like that pitiful dungeon could ever hold Zephryn." Simon's lips twitched. "Zephryn's on Darkhold."

Raziel spit a mouthful of liquor onto the dusty floor, right beside Bexley, who sidestepped the wet splat with a muffled curse. "Darkhold is a myth. Maybe that kingdom existed once, but there's nothing left now except an empty ring of mountains in the middle of the sea."

"Zeph's there, imprisoned inside a circle of obsidian. We have to free him while the Oracle's distracted."

"Distracted by what?"

"By you, heading to the High Barrens to claim your inheritance," Torin said softly, her gaze landing on Adele, who curled her body deeper into Tavion's cloak, still hidden in the shadows. "Your other inheritance."

"What are you talking about?" I thought my head was clearing, but apparently, I was still affected by the venom, because the air in the room chilled. "I'm the Fae King's daughter, we all know that. There's nothing else…" Whatever I was about to say died in my throat at their expressions, filled with expectation and a hint of pity.

"Adele." Tavion's tone was just short of menacing as his arm swept out, crushing me against him as if he could protect me against whatever was coming. "Tell your daughter who waits in the High Barrens."

Tavion's tone turned harsher. "Tell Anaria what you told the rest of us."

Adele shrank under Tavion's glare and anger burst through me at how desperately she worried that cloak with her ruined fingers. "Do not speak to my mother like that, Tavion. She's been through enough."

"And you haven't?" he snapped. "You've been through more than she'll ever know and the lies have to stop." He peered at Torin and Simon, then my mother. "You didn't have a problem telling us everything the night you put that mark on her arm, Adele. Now tell Anaria the truth, or I will."

"What mark?" Torin asked, the same time I said, "You did that?"

Even Bexley stopped pretending he wasn't listening to every word and rocked back onto his heels when I rolled up my sleeve and displayed the white tree branded on my upper arm, the branches sparkling faintly in the firelight.

"The mark," Torin whispered, her face white. "Oh, gods. With that mark…"

"With that mark, my daughter can claim her rightful inheritance." Adele swayed on her feet. "The crown that was stolen from us. The throne we deserve to sit upon." My mother's words rang through me, but their meaning was something I couldn't yet grasp.

"Does Anaria know what you've done?" Torin whispered.

"My daughter will know everything when the time is right," Adele countered coolly.

"What is she talking about?" I demanded, but Tavion just dipped his head into the crook of my neck and hugged me tighter, as if he didn't have words.

"This palace belongs to us," Adele said fiercely, her eyes glowing brighter with every step she took toward me. "You are a Wynter. And that male holding you like…like he has some claim to you…he murdered your aunt and uncle. Right here, within these walls." Her lip curled in hatred.

"He slaughtered them on the command—on the lies—of the monster who would have sacrificed you. Who imprisoned me." A white flame flickered in her eyes before it disappeared, but Tavion had stiffened, his entire body taut against mine, as if he'd seen it, too.

"What inheritance?" I asked through numb lips, Tavion hugging me closer, as if he was afraid to let me go. "Are you really the reason I have this godsdamned mark on my arm?"

Adele didn't so much as blink. "You are a child of two worlds, Anaria. Half Fae and half witch, you can claim both races as your rightful destiny. Or…either throne, if you so choose. Caladrius was only the beginning of your reign. You could be so much greater."

"Half witch?" I rubbed my palm over the raised mark, magic swelling inside me before I pushed it back down. "I'm a witch? You're a witch?" When I searched my mother's face and found nothing there except certainty, something within me shriveled up and died.

This was surreal, like I'd been yanked out of my body and shoved into another. All I knew for sure was that I didn't want any of this bullshite.

Didn't want them to look at me with such hope, mixed with a trace of pity.

I wasn't a witch; I wasn't a princess. I didn't want a reign.

"Three hundred years ago, the Oracle approached the Wynters—our ancestors—with a proposition. Revenge on the Fae who'd stolen their lands and drove them into hiding. The coven's queen accepted and sent Alaric and Zephora Wynter to buy their way into Carex's court. Once they were established, all they had to do was wait for the right time."

My entire world narrowed down to Adele's quiet voice, the story she was telling, the comforting pressure of Tavion's arm wrapped around me.

"A hundred years ago, Torin and these males began laying the groundwork to steal Carex's magic. Then, twenty years ago, I was chosen to be presented at court as the Wynters' niece. From there…well, you know the rest of the story."

"Tell me more about the High Barrens." I tried to think past my confusion, past the questions jumbling together in my head. "And the Wynters."

"You claim a powerful bloodline. A bloodline gifted with terrible magic and cunning." Again, silver flashed in Adele's pale eyes and Tavion tensed. "The High Barrens Coven is ruled by a High Priestess; their seat of power is north, beyond the Ironhearts."

"How far north?"

"Out of reach of the Shadow King and his armies." Silence ruled the room, all of us waiting for her next words, and I swore my mother delighted in her new authority with a wicked arrogance I hadn't seen before.

"After you were born, the Shadow King burned the Barrens, trying to purge our people and his secret with them. If anyone would have discovered his part in our conspiracy…Ah, but he failed." Adele's voice took on a hard, cruel note that sent a shiver straight through me. "You've already claimed the Fae magic, but our kind has magic of its own. Claim the other half of your heritage to become the most powerful creature in the entire world, Anaria."

Adele's tone turned crafty. "You can get us the revenge we deserve, by killing Serpens and ending this for good."

"How many of us…How many witches are left?" My hands curled into fists in my lap. Bexley had abandoned all pretense at healing and was openly staring at my mother, his mouth hanging open.

"Enough," she said, somewhat snidely. "Enough of an army for the general to command. Enough to march into Solarys and take back what the Fae stole from us."

I clasped my hands in my lap before I looked up at Zorander. "This is the secret you were about to tell me before I was yanked away by the Oracle, isn't it?"

Dark eyes smoldering in anger, he nodded. "I never got the chance. You should have heard the truth from Adele, so things worked out in the end, I suppose." But he squeezed my shoulder, to say I'm sorry.

"You weren't nearly so noble, Commander, the night I offered you the witch army," Adele pointed out. "In fact, you jumped at the chance to go to war."

"I never jump at the chance to go to war. War costs good men and innocents their lives," he countered coldly. "You offered. I didn't argue. There's a difference."

Raziel stepped up beside his oldest friend and my heart squeezed at the sight of them together, presenting a solid front. "Don't twist this around, Adele. You lied, and the fact you're willing to use your daughter to get revenge does not sit well with any of us."

My mother straightened her shoulders, and in that moment, I saw everything Adele had been before prison stripped her down to her very bones.

Imperious and bloodthirsty and cold, and I didn't like what I saw.

I was a witch.

A fucking witch.

Bexley sent one last surge of glowing magic into the wounds, now covered with new, pink skin. "That is the last of my magic, my lady." He panted, dipping his head. "But you healed nicely." I offered the mage a grateful smile as Zor, Raziel, and Adele's argument escalated, Tristan watching impassively.

When Torin and Simon pointed out Adele had been a willing participant in the conspiracy since the beginning, things got ugly. "I volunteered to overthrow the king, not rot in prison for two decades while you lived a life of luxury."

"My life has hardly been luxurious," Torin hissed.

Adele whirled on Raz and Zor. "You abandoned me. All of you. Now you owe me."

"I told you before and I'll tell you again, my only loyalty is to Anaria. I owe you nothing, and if you try to serve her up to further your own agenda, I will fucking end you." Zorander's snarled promise sent Adele reeling back as he stalked toward her. I rose to my feet, but Tavion tugged me back down beside him.

"Wait," Tavion murmured against my ear. "This isn't over and there's more you have to see."

"You plan to use Anaria to get revenge and power." Raz crossed his arms over his chest, his growl a thinly veiled threat. "Your revenge, not hers. Power for yourself, not for her."

"What if I do? Power is the only thing that matters in this world. Spend twenty years in a prison cell being gnawed on by rats and see how far you'd go to take back what was stolen from you."

She swung her gaze around the room, a faint sneer of disgust on her once-beautiful face. "I sacrificed everything for your cause, and you forgot about me. Left me there to die. But I didn't die and now you have to deal with me." Adele's expression turned ugly.

Almost as ugly as the despair twisting my stomach to knots.

This was my mother?

I climbed to my feet, every ache, every pain, every bruise echoing through my still-healing body. "I have heard enough." I'd heard more than enough, had the wool yanked from my eyes and finally was seeing—for perhaps the first time—who my mother really was.

Adele spun, her eyes flaring wide. "I only want you to never be afraid, Anaria. I want you to be strong enough no one can ever hurt you, like they did me."

"I'm sure that's part of it." I swallowed down the bile souring my throat. "But you're not the only one in this room who's suffered. Don't you ever forget that."

No, we'd all lost so much during this war—we'd be lucky if we had anything left by the time this was over.

"One other thing." I dug my fingers into Tavion's arm and tried to keep my voice from shaking. "If you think I would hold the Wynters' executions against Tavion, you don't know me at all. If you try to turn us against each other, I will leave you behind, since as you pointed out, this palace belongs to you." I turned to Torin.

"You want me to go to the High Barrens as a diversion. Do you expect me to raise an army while I'm there, or just keep the Oracle distracted while you save your friend?"

"I…" Torin's lips pursed as she considered the offer. "That wasn't part of the plan, but I wouldn't say no to an army."

"We'll require more allies to take on the king," I mused, Raziel nodding in agreement. "Tell us everything, then we'll see if we can figure out how to free your friend."

Darkhold, Torin explained succinctly, lay west of Varitus, across the Marianus Sea, and the only way to get there was to fly. "We'd have to split up. Half to Darkhold, half to Nightcairn. The timing would have to be perfect."

"I will carry Torin." Zorander scratched his chin. "Simon can fly. Raz, could you make the trip in two days?" At his exasperated eyeroll, Zor turned back to Torin. "There. We can get everyone to Darkhold in a couple days."

"Tristan and I will head east, taking the tunnels with Anaria and Adele." Tavion's jaw tensed before he headed to the table, lined up the glasses, and filled each one.

"When we reach Nightcairn Castle, we'll pick up Dane. He trades with the witches on occasion, he'll guide you the rest of the way to their fortress in the Barrens."

He waved us all over and there we were, gathered around the low table, as unlikely a group of traitors as there had ever been as we all picked up a glass. "Here's to unlikely allies," Tavion muttered with a wink as if he'd read my mind.

I was the only one who choked on the liquor, barely able to get out my next words. "And once we're in the Barrens?" I rubbed my burning throat. "What then? We wait for you?"

"You won't wait long. We'll meet up as soon as we free Zephryn," Raziel said brusquely. "Depending, of course, on what shape your friend is in."

Torin twisted her hands. "He might not be able to fly, but we'll get to the Barrens, as fast as we can."

"He's a shifter?" I asked curiously, eyeing Simon, still in the shiny purple robe. "An owl?"

Simon's grin flashed white, perfect teeth. "Not even close, Princess." Then he winked, the first show of humor I'd ever seen from him. "Think bigger."

"An eagle?" I guessed, even though I'd never seen one in real life.

"Bigger."

"There's nothing bigger than an eagle," I insisted, shaking my head before Raziel's mouth dropped.

"Darkhold…He's a fucking dragon," Raz breathed. "Your friend…he's a dragon, isn't he?"

Simon's grin lit up the room. "Now you're thinking big enough."