Chapter Fourty

CHAPTER FOURTY

TWO LANDS

I stumbled back into the table, my head reeling, and then I turned to my side and keeled over, vomiting the little food I ate on our journey from the Convallis to Valfalla.

I took in shallow sips of air, a thousand pounds weighing on my chest. Sinking to my knees, I looked around at the descending chaos of fracturing stone and exploding water. I was soaked head to toe from the uncontrolled blasts that continued to rain down around us, and I wondered if Fayzien used the nearby oceans to support his effort.

I told myself to move, to get out, but I could not, nor could I regain command of my breath. My head pounded, and I gasped as if the air that entered my lungs was not air at all.

A moment later, a hand cupped my shoulder. I expected to see a sopping Water Witch, but I turned to Xinlan’s pale face. She looked about as bad as I did, her leathers ripped and tattered, scratches marring her arms and legs.

“Where is the queen?” Xinlan demanded.

“She’s gone,” I whispered between sobs. “I’ve failed. Again.”

“Shit,” Xinlan said. “Terra, we have to go. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I hissed. I knew sitting there put me at risk of capture, or worse. But I couldn’t leave—I couldn’t leave the women behind. I couldn’t do anything for them, and I couldn’t even save my own kin.

But I could stay.

“You have to trust me,” she said, her eyes as urging as her tone.

That inner voice rose inside me, roused from slumber. It told me to listen, but I shoved it away.

A Drakkarian raised his blade to cut her down from behind, and I threw my dagger overhead, still wet with the queen’s blood, sinking it in his eye, numb to the kill. “Trust,” I said, the word unfeeling, a foreign concept I could not comprehend. And in a way, I couldn’t—though Tey eventually turned on her, Xinlan initially had been a part of the king’s plot. To kill me.

Beyond that, I barely knew her. My history of trusting strangers was blemished.

But I said none of that; my body tuned into the thrum of the battle around me. The roaring in my head screamed loud and deathly quiet. I looked around for the women I’d seen when they’d dragged me into the hall. But there were none. The Water magic had provided a distraction for their escape. Good, that was good.

“I have no reason to trust you. I’m not going anywhere.” The words felt far away, like they belonged to someone else.

Xinlan yanked my hands from my lap and held my chains. They turned glowing orange, and she sliced her blade through them. I didn’t have the energy to marvel at whatever magic made the cut possible. “Viribrum is lost. We have rescued every Fae we could have. We must go. Now .”

Before I could protest again, she dragged me to stand, pulling me after her so fast I barely had time to swipe back Ezren’s dagger. We made it toward an alcove on the side of the banquet hall. Movement flickered in my peripheral and I ducked a left hook. Xinlan sent her blade into my assailant’s neck, removing his head from his shoulders.

The image made my stomach roil, recalling the head she’d cut down in the Sk?l.

“You cut his head clean off,” I said flatly as she pulled me into the shadow of the alcove, away from the fighting.

Xinlan knew I didn’t mean the Drakkarian she’d just saved me from. “I did.”

“Who was he to you?” I whispered.

She made to protest; I could tell she wanted to urge me to run—but something in her face softened, perhaps at the grief she saw on my own. “He was my father. I did that so his soul could escape. In my house, that is a warrior’s death. His soul will be free—to leave this body and this life. To rest in Requiem.”

I looked at her in disbelief. In that moment, she’d had such clarity and strength. She hadn’t hesitated a second. And neither had he.

“You have to go now ,” Xinlan begged. “Ezren is waiting.”

Again, instinct swirled in my gut, that little voice my father spoke of gnawing at the back of my mind, urging me to listen. Still, I couldn’t make myself move. My eyes wandered past her, landing on the blood that pooled on the floor of the dais. Blood that had trickled down from where I’d held the queen in my arms.

“Everywhere I go, death follows,” I said bitterly. “My family, my sire, my aunt, my handmaid—all dead. And now, the Rexi… maybe she lives, but I also might have just killed her.” I choked on those words, my throat constricting into a searing burn.

“You are so, so young Terra. But you will learn. You will learn to do difficult things, because you have to. Because so many rely on you. Right now—you have to make it out of here. Not just for this kingdom, but for yours, too.”

Her words sparked something inside me, and another wave of distrust ebbed. I drew my eyes back to her face.

“We will survive this,” she continued, her voice shaking with quiet anger as she surveyed the destruction in the throne room. “We will regroup. And we will take back our home.” It seemed she spoke more to herself than to me.

And then I understood. She needed me—they all did—to go back to Nebbiolo, raise an army, and help the Viri take back Viribrum.

She needed me to trust her.

And I needed her. Though I had no interest in being queen, I could not sit back and let these horrors go unanswered. I could not. I couldn’t stand alone against Drakkar. I’d need a court, warriors, loyalty. All resources based on trust.

That trust would have to start here. With a Fae who’d bedded my betrothed and had been paid to kill me.

“Where?” I bit out.

“East Tower.” She nodded for me to go. “Your escape route will be clear. I’ve got clean-up.” Her face held a sad smile. Despite all that had transpired between us, I almost smiled, too.

“Good luck,” I whispered.

And then I ran through the hall, using the anonymity of chaotic battle as my protection. I only had to meet the blades of two Drakkarians before I slipped out the door and ran for the east corridor.

A distinct meow had me skidding to a stop. “Cas?” I called out.

The figure in the shadows changed. Cas lingered in the dark, his face puffy. “They put his head on a spike,” he whispered.

I felt for him, I did. But the sound of Drakkarian footsteps nearing us squashed my sympathy.

“He said it was all to save me,” he sniffed. “All of it—what he did to you, the price on your head, the lies—was to save me from some prophecy .”

I stilled for a short moment, weighing the meaning of Cas’s emotional drivel and how it changed the tilt of our world, but the footsteps continued.

I latched onto his arm, dragging him after me. “We have to go,” I said, moving towards the East Tower. “Now.”

“There is no exit that way,” Cas mumbled as we ran up and up the spiraling servants’ stairway. I ignored him, keeping my senses strong and alert for any threats lurking around the corners.

I maintained a ruthless pace. Up and up we went, until we neared the top of the East Tower. I had only ventured to this place a few times, for it housed Gia’s favorite reading nook, with a view of the gardens and the roiling sea.

I kept looking backward to ensure Cas was there and to keep an eye out for any pursuers.

I kicked open the thick wooden door. The familiar smell of leather and parchment filled my nose. It smelled of safety, of respite. But there was no Ezren. I paced around the room in a flash, searching under window seat pillows, as if he or a clue might appear. The sound of footsteps carried up the staircase. Not friendly footsteps.

That traitorous— what did I expect? Trust isn’t cheap, nor easy.

My eyes caught on the horizon—a little pale dot on the ocean. A ship.

I gritted my teeth, thanking Maester Sabnae for stranding me out there during my training. I visualized the portal, a window opening in my mind, a door to take us there, pulsing, beckoning us forward.

And then it sputtered. Shit.

“Terra,” Cas’s voice grew worried, and the footsteps grew closer. “Can you portal us out of here?”

“I just tried,” I said, fighting the panic from seeping into my voice. “I don’t think I can, not without risking the in-between.” I must be drained from my earlier eruption, and those damned magic dampeners.

“ Terra! They’re getting closer.”

Think, think, think. Xinlan’s words echoed in my mind. Ezren is waiting.

But he wasn’t. I didn’t know what to expect—Ezren here to defend me, or outside to catch me as I escaped. I checked through the window. Nothing. No Dragon in sight.

Not that a Dragon circling the tower in wait would be inconspicuous or wise.

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing I had less than a minute to make my decision. I could either trust Xinlan with a literal leap of faith—or take my chances fighting our pursuers and regroup.

The second option seemed like a bad idea, given I was so drained I couldn’t portal.

I turned to Cas. “Shift.” I went to the curtains, ripping a long strip of fabric from them.

He sputtered. “ What ? No. Why would you ask that? I’m useless in my shift.”

I fought my eyes from pressing shut in exasperation, the footsteps ominously loud now. “Cas, we don’t have time for debate. Just shift.” I better be right about this.

He huffed, making to argue more, but then the pounding on the stairs outside arrived at the door.

“Now!” I yelled to Cas. Now , I said to myself.

Cas jumped, but then did as I bid, leaping in his feline form into the swaddle I had prepared from the ripped curtain, slung around my shoulder. I tightened it, ensuring he was fixed there. I swung the furry cat from my chest to my back.

I stepped up on the reading bench and made to unfasten the window openings that overlooked the steep drop to the sea. But there were none. Someone had welded the window shut.

I padded back to the far end of the circular room, shaking my head. The creature on my back meowed in protest, but I had him snug enough that he could not move. Then, I ran full speed towards the window as the Drakkarians entered the room, their blades looking hungry. Before they could stop us, I burst through the glass, breaking the impact with my forearms raised in front of my face.

We fell, slivers of glass stuck in my hair, the wind whipping by us. My eyes closed on instinct the moment I passed through the window, but I forced them open now. I looked down to see nothing but swirling ocean and damp rocks beneath us.

We approached it faster and faster, the wind beginning to burn my eyes.

Fear flooded my veins. Had I been wrong?

My heart pounded so fiercely that I could feel it in my ears. I tried to reach out with my magic, to beg it to catch me, but I was afraid and had no command over the water. Closer and closer, the details of the rocks came into focus, sea foam caressing their jagged surfaces.

I had seconds, or less, to break the fall or to risk the in-between of the portal.

Terror rippled through me, and I wondered if the impact would be enough to break my Fae body. If Cas would splatter on the rocks.

Green scales appeared beneath me and I had but a moment to register the relief. I parted my legs, and the impact was brutal, reverberating through the fractures of my collarbone. I cried out in triumph and pain as the Dragon swept us forward and up, absorbing our fall to the best of his ability. My palms grasped familiar spinal spikes, and we were flying, away from the lost palace.

As we left the chaos behind, I sent a slip of my remaining magic toward that place—for the Fae I’d left there, the Fae to whom I owed my escape.

For Xinlan.

The Dragon dipped his head, making a steep descent to the ocean. As he did, the ship came into focus.

It was only a mile from the coast, but far away enough that the Drakkarian armies would not notice the small, unassuming—and from the smell that began to fill my nostrils—fishing vessel that left the city. The sight of it confirmed what I’d hoped; Ezren had found where Sanah and the crew had been hiding by the docks. From the way the Dragon flew with precision, I could tell Dane spelled him, as he had many times before on reconnaissance missions. A nervous feeling of anticipation swelled in my gut. Upon landing I would find out if they’d located Gia. If Leiya had made it out of the palace.

“How will we land?” I yelled as we neared the vessel at an impressive speed. The cat on my back meowed in distress. I visualized the portal, but it sputtered and pulsed—clarity evading me even more than in the tower. “Shit,” I muttered, gritting my teeth.

“Jump!” a voice on the ship called out.

I prepared to protest, but when I looked down, I saw someone had fastened a fishing net to the masts in a way that one could, conceivably, jump and safely be caught. I shook my head, grumbling, reminding myself to throttle whoever’s idea this was.

The Dragon tilted his wings, and I knew what he meant to do. I reached behind me and swung the Feline to my front, cradling him to my chest with one hand, holding onto the Dragon’s spine with the other. He tilted until he flew with his wings almost fully vertical, cornering around the ship. He got me close enough, and I launched myself out and to the side, turning my body mid-air so that I would land on my back. Seconds later, I hit the fish-scented net and bounced up, Cas nearly flying from my grasp.

A strong-armed Leuffen caught me before I catapulted off the side of the boat and set me on the ground. A small cry left my mouth, and I swung the cat behind me, pulling myself up to the Fae, pressing my head into his chest.

“Terra,” he breathed into my hair, squeezing me back. “Yer alright.”

I looked up at him, beaming. “And you’re alive! Can he land?” I asked, searching the sky for Ezren.

Leuffen winked at me. “Dinna worry, lass. Dane’s spellen’ ‘em.”

The Dragon turned vertical once more, getting even closer to the net than he did before. He shifted mid-air, his warrior body hitting the net with grace. He launched up and landed in a crouch on the deck, as if he’d performed the stunt numerous times.

Leuffen dropped his arms from my sides, and I turned to face the fierce Dragon. He looked straight at me. Even now, the blaze of green eyes sent a pulse through my body.

“Purgo,” Dane cast from across the ship, breathless from the exertion. Ezren stumbled as if struck, and the slits in his eyes subsided.

“Ezren,” I whispered as he strode towards me. “You came ba?—”

He cut me off, wrapping me in his arms, ignoring the passenger slung over my shoulder.

I crumpled into him, exhaling, the gravity of everything that had happened hitting me like a brick I’d dodged for too long. He squeezed me once, and then again so tightly I had the impression he thought I might slip from his arms. “You’re safe,” he breathed.

A moment later, the weight on my back shifted and I heard the sound of claws piercing fabric. The cat plopped onto the ship deck and promptly turned. I detached myself from Ezren to face a sopping, bloody Cas.

“Hello Ezren,” he said coolly, brushing stray debris from his jacket lapel. “Thanks for the ride.”

Ezren tipped his head back at Cas in acknowledgment, and the two of them proceeded to stare at each other in loaded silence.

“Well, I see ye’ve already managed te start a’ cat fight,” Leiya snickered, approaching the deck. “Thes well make fer one helluva’ journey.”

My chest tightened in relief at hearing her voice. Cas glared at Leiya but said nothing.

Gia appeared at Leiya’s side, and my chest tightened further. “You’re alright,” I exhaled, pulling her into me gently, minding the bump that still swelled from her midsection.

Gia gave me a gentle squeeze. “I’m here, Terra.”

A small sense of ease washed over me, clearing my mind. “What journey?” I asked, turning back towards Leiya.

She looked at me with a seriousness that I had not yet seen from her. “Well, Terra, ets time ye get answers, fer all our sakes, and fer the sake a’ Viribrum. Lassie, we are headed te Nebbiolo.”

I bit my lower lip, my brows knitting together as I surveyed the group before me. Dane looked like he’d slept on the dirt floor of an opium den. Leuffen wore armor covered in dried blood and muck. Leiya’s leathers were still streaked with the ash that had rained down on the Sk?l. Cas’s face sagged, hollow bags drooping beneath his eyes. Sanah’s hair was matted, though her eyes beamed. Ezren was also covered in gore, but looked at me like he always did, with wild adoration. And though she was the cleanest of the bunch—perhaps the only one who looked like they’d had a bath in the last few weeks—Gia’s face was solemn.

Even Cobal had made it on the boat. And as it gazed up at me with those wise eyes, I wondered what the creature knew that led it to join us here.

“Why,” I exhaled, suddenly aware of all the attention fixed in my direction. “Why do you all want to go? Viribrum may be lost, yes, but we don’t know what awaits in Nebbiolo. It could be more dangerous—one of the Drakkarians implied the Rexi intended to sacrifice me to save the queendom. I don’t know what we’ll be walking into.”

The group collectively held their breath. And then Sanah spoke.

“We might not all be Nebbiolon, or Viri for that matter,” she said, her eyes sliding to Dane. “But, many moons ago, each one of us here was called by Jana to search for the lost Earth Daughter of both queendom and kingdom. And now that we found her…” Sanah trailed off, sinking to one knee. I stilled in anticipation.

“I think we know why,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I haven’t been to my homeland in many decades. It would be the highest honor of my life to be taken home by a queen.”

“We need ye, Lassia,” Leuffen said, lowering himself as well. “Te breng the kingdoms together. Ye saw what the Drakkarians ded te Valfalla. Ye must unite the Wetch and the Fae te stand against ‘em.” My eyes fogged at the belief in his gaze. “Otherwise, we havena hope.”

Ezren followed suit, his knee hitting the deck as the boat gently sloshed. The sight of him giving me deference sent strange waves of electricity through me. “Your power is unlike anything I’ve seen, Bellatori . You can defend, yes, and you can destroy, but you can also create.”

Dane smiled. “In the darkest of times, it is hope that the world needs—hope that can only be found in the marvel and relief of creation.”

Finally, Cas knelt, clearing his throat. “A week ago, I would not have expected to be here, kneeling before my oldest friend. I can’t say I mind it.” He gave me a devilish grin, and I felt Ezren tense, but he continued on, his tone turning grave. “But if there was a time for a prince to kneel before a princess, it would be when he has lost everything.” He trailed off, choking on the words. My throat went dry. “It costs me very little to ask you this, Terragnata of Nebbiolo. Our king was slaughtered in his own palace, our females raped in their own homes. Do not abandon us.” Tears flowed down his face now, and the sight of him begging—lowered on his knees—twisted something inside me. “Do not abandon me,” he whispered. “Do not abandon us.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, willing my eyes to remain dry. I did not think, I did not evaluate my choices, I could only react. I gave him a small nod and whispered back. “I will not.”

“Te the future queen a’ two lands!” Leuffen bellowed, beating his chest.

“To the future queen of two lands!” the rest cheered.

To the future queen of two lands.

I knew those words would ring in my ears for years to come.