38. Keira

Chapter 38

Keira

M y father stands with both hands firmly on his desk, leaning over a map of the kingdom. His eyes flare wide as they fall on me and his lips narrow to a thin line.

“What did he do to you?” He growls and the roaring fireplaces flare up throughout the study. Murderous intent flashes within his gaze.

My mother walks into the room behind us, and she stops dead upon seeing me, her hand flying to her mouth. “Did Prince Finan do this to you?” She chokes.

I turn to Diarmuid, but he stares at me with his mouth hanging open. “Your throat. It’s badly bruised, like he wrapped his hands it. I didn’t see it in the darkness.”

My father breaks from his trance and rushes over, collecting me in a massive bear hug and lifting my feet from the ground as though I were still a little child.

He holds me tight against his chest, the side of his head pressed against mine. The tension I have been carrying all night melts from my body and I want to sob.

“You are safe now, Keira. I will kill the princeling. I don’t care if I have to march my army to his doorstep.” My father places me back on my feet and peers into my face. “How badly has Finan hurt you?”

My breath catches. “I did worse to him, father. I made quite a mess of things.”

Warm hands wrap around my shoulders and lead me to an armchair before the desk. My mother kneels in front of me, holding my hands. “Tell us what happened, Keira.”

I take in both of their worried glances and then I tell them everything.

The scowl on my father’s face deepens with every word and my mother stares at me, nodding every so often.

“I told Finan I would not marry him. That I will devote my life to being a priestess. It is not the life I envisioned, but it is better than being his wife.” I fall into silence.

I don’t tell them about my secret hope, that by giving my life to the temple, I might be able to cross again at the next alignment event in seven years.

Where would Aldrin be in twenty-one of his years? Would he have a fae queen at his side?

I would deserve as much. I need to at least try to find my way back to him. He holds half of my soul and I cannot function without him.

My father grips the edge of his desk so hard it is a wonder it doesn’t splinter beneath his fingers. “That stupid bastard. That soft, weakling should have known he couldn’t take on one of my daughters.”

“How did you get home, Keira?” My mother leans forward, placing her hands on my knees. There is fierceness on her delicate features. “Neither of you are dressed for travel and the guard said you didn’t have horses with you.”

Diarmuid takes a long swig from a cup of wine. “Oh, it was no great feat. We simply used the portal in the palace’s library to travel here, to the portal in the Old Fae Garden.”

“You did what?” My father’s eyes dart between us, pride flicking within them .

“I did not think it was still possible.” My mother murmurs.

My father motions toward the guard hovering by the door. “Get my personal guard ready to leave in the morning. I will travel to Sunbright City in the morning to clear this up.

“Is that wise, Edmund?” My mother rises, blocking his path to the door. “Think of the political ramifications.”

“It’s too dangerous, father,” I urge him. “There is another side to Finan that we never saw. Even his brother Niall fears violence from him. King Willard might order you to send me back to Finan or face war. Appleshield cannot claim responsibility for me or harbor me.”

“Keira must move to the Sanctuary of Magic,” Diarmuid chimes in. “The crown cannot wage war on the Mothers of Magic. The people would not tolerate it.”

My mother takes another step closer to my father. “Naomi must negotiate for Keira, as her high priestess. You know your mother will fight to the darkest realm and back for her.”

My father’s gaze slides over to me. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I let out a long breath.

Is this what I want?

No. I want Aldrin. I need him. Every fiber of my being screams at me to find a way back to him. This is my only chance.

“Yes.” Fatigue crashes down on me.

“Send a messenger to the Sanctuary of Magic immediately. Prepare the priestesses, especially my mother,” my father says over my head to the waiting guard.

“It can wait for the morning, Edmund. Nothing is going to happen before sunrise.” My mother chimes in.

I am led to my chambers, but sleep eludes me, no matter how hard I try. The thoughts whirl through my head like a swarm of angry bees. Hot tears run down my face at my sheer stupidity, because I thought I could make a difference. That I would be a queen with power and influence, achieved merely by the gravity of my personality and willpower .

Not even my grandmother, high priestess and the strongest woman I know, could have had a scrap of authority in that court.

I am so sick of being vulnerable and powerless. In the fae world, I was the master of my own fate. A force to be reckoned with. I was treated with the same respect as the men.

Opening that portal tonight was hard, but I did it without straining my power. Maybe I can open another, and find my way back to Aldrin.

Leaving him was the biggest mistake I have ever made.

I must fall asleep at some point, because I wake suddenly, my chambers still doused in darkness except for a few fire orbs hovering in the corners of the ceiling.

Caitlin is asleep on a recliner, a thin blanket tossed over her, my silent sentinel. She must have found out about my return after I fell asleep and decided she would be right here for me if I woke up crying in the middle of the night.

Guilt ripples through me as I get out of bed and tiptoe around her, throwing on a woolen riding dress and cloak. I don’t wake her, not even as I soundlessly close my bedroom door.

My blood races as I tiptoe through empty corridors and out into the cool night air.

I slip into the shadows of an alcove as a patrol of two guards pass by on the wall above me, then I make my way through the maze of alleys and narrow passageways that connect the main courtyards, dipping in and out of the servant’s quarters.

I reach the narrow servant’s gate at the back of the wall that leads to a herb garden and unlock it easily by shifting the air within the mechanism.

When the guards pass their rotation on the wall, I dart out across the exposed space and into the tree cover beyond.

Thoughts crash through my head as I run between the orchards. Blood pumps so loudly in my ears it is deafening. I cannot think straight. Pure panic floods me. Raw need.

I claw my fingers down my face and across my temples until my feet take me to the Old Fae Garden. Mud flicks up from my boots, across the hem of my dress, leaving cold splatters on my shins.

I need to open the portal to Aldrin before the congregation of priestesses arrive at my home and I am locked within their clutches forever. I have to at least try, no matter how terrible the idea is. How unlikely.

Thorns tear at my skin and snag my clothes as I force a way through the ancient garden. It is almost pitch black, with the moon already beneath the horizon.

I stumble over thick roots snaking across the gravel path and glance up to the cascading branches of the weeping willow right before my face. They are a dark outline against the night, but a breeze kicks up and the dull gleam of moonstone is visible through the parting branches.

The feel of the hanging leaves against my outstretched arm guides me around the tree, to the portal.

To both portals.

I skid to a stop before them. One has the words “Royal Palace” engraved in the stone. The other, “Fae Interchange”.

My heart leaps.

It leads to the hundreds of portals where I made my crossing into the Spring Court. It had been an interchange for trade and migration between the realms when we were at peace with the fae.

I grip onto the moonstone portal, but it takes time to focus enough to summon my magic. The stone pulls the fire of my power from me, and this time I don’t hold back, flooding it quickly.

Blinding light erupts from the portal, painful in its intensity. Mists swirl within, and I don’t hesitate a moment. I run beneath that arch and through the landscape of clouds within, until I am staggering on uneven ground on the other side.

I am at the site of the pilgrims’ crossing. The portal behind me is a beacon illuminating the ground of moss and slate, near the stone circle of towering rough-hewn arches.

That foreboding tower slices through the dimness in their center, the jade plinth dull and powerless. I draw in the magic reserve from the portal at my back, closing it.

My eyes fly to the rows upon rows of portals leading to the fae world, cut into the steep hillside. I walk toward them as though each step is propelled forward by a sharp current.

A shiver runs down my spine as I stand before the moonstone gateway that took me straight to Aldrin so many months ago. It is as though fate itself brought us together. The very depths of my soul pull me toward it. Aldrin might still be at the Frozen River Fortress.

I would wander his realm for years in the hope of finding him.

I fall on my knees, not caring that the dampness of the moss seeps into my dress or for the sharp edges of stone that dig into my legs. My breaths are short and labored as anxiety ripples through me like fire. I reach out and put my hands on the portal.

I open all of me to the portal, pushing out huge jets of magic until my hands, then arms are illuminated by the flow of it. I pour my very essence into it.

My legs go numb beneath me.

My fingers tingle, then burn.

The sensation travels up my arms, becoming painful, but I don’t stop. By the time that scouring pain reaches my shoulders, chest, my spine, I think I can’t bear any more of it. Thousands of red-hot needles poke into my body, biting and stinging and aching. I cry out, but I don’t stop.

More. I need more power.

Aldrin said I could do this if I removed the block on my magic.

My heart bleeds with the desire to open this passageway. It twists painfully. I don’t care if I die trying to do it. I need to get back to him.

The pain hits a crescendo, and the world spins around me. That numbness creeps through me until I can't feel my entire body, but at least the pain is gone.

“Aldrin!” I scream. “Take me home , Aldrin!”

My pleading does nothing. The portal drags at my soul, pulling out everything I have to give, yet its milky arches only glow faintly. The vibrating hum of the moonstone resonates in my ears, engulfing me until I can’t hear anything else, but it no longer grows in volume.

Blackness creeps in from the corners of my vision. My grasp on all that power slips, and it ricochets violently back into me. My essence feels like it has been tossed across a room and slammed into a wall. Thrown off a cliff and dashed upon sharp rocks.

My body merely crumples into the moss, limp.

Heaving sobs wreck through me, constricting my chest and making it near impossible to breathe. I scream and scream incoherently, while my mind flounders.

His realm is too far away. I cannot find my way back to him.

I have defied so many odds, and it still wasn’t enough.

“Please. Please. Please.” I moan. “Aldrin, pleeease.”

I slap at the moonstone until my palms burn, hating it so much for keeping us apart. Hating myself even more for being stupid enough to leave him.

The flash of energy leaves me and I crumple against the dormant portal. My eyes burn from the salt of my tears and are so swollen I can hardly see.

“Aldrin, how do I find my way back to you?”

The night is mild enough that I am at no risk of suffering from exposure. Perhaps I could sleep here and try again in the morning. Fatigue is like a heavy blanket, smothering my senses and dragging me down and down.

Bony hands wrap around my shoulders and fingers clutch my chin, tilting my face up. For a single crazy moment I think it must be Aldrin, here to save me, but the silhouette is far too small to be him.

“Come, child. It cannot be done.” A familiar voice rings out, filled with warmth and understanding. “So many have tried before you.”

“High Priestess, would you like me to move her?” another asks.

All I can think is that I’m not ready to leave the portal. My mind scrambles, but my limbs are too tired to follow the command to grip onto the stone arch.

“Yes. Bring her down to the pass…and thank our sentries for al erting me straight away. There is always at least one who tries to go back.”

Weaves of air wrap around me and ever so gently lift me from the ground. My hair and arms fall limply out of that magical embrace. The soft swaying as I am carried away lulls me in and out of unconsciousness.

I thought I had cried out all of my tears, that nothing could hurt me this badly again, but I found a new rock bottom to my grief. I live in a world of turmoil and agony in the half-dreams that consume me.