Chapter 44

SARKIN

One week later…

Deep in a forest called the Ancient Groves, I stood by Klara’s side as we watched the Dakkari-steel chains fastened around the thalara ’s wide trunk.

It was a beautiful tree—black with graceful, regal boughs and white, velvety leaves, highlighted with blue veins.

It was an old thalara tree. And it was different than all the ones I’d ever studied. This might’ve been the oldest I’d ever seen, and I could feel the raw power swirling from it, drawing in energy from its surrounding, feeding on it to grow the dying heartstones at its roots.

Across the clearing, the Dothikkar stood with Dannik. The old king and, potentially, the new one. There were a few of his council members. Gevanth and Harnek stood close by. Alaryk had remained as well, though he’d sent his commander back to Grym to relay to Elysom that what were now known as the Heartstone Accords had been struck with the Dakkari.

In these accords were our agreements.

Each nation would get half of the heartstone yield. Seventy percent of each yield would be replanted into careful groves of thalara orchards, just like the forests that used to grow in the Arsadia. A handful of experts would come from Karak to assist the Dakkari in their growing and care, ensuring that the trees would be healthy to sustain heartstone yields for centuries.

The remaining heartstones could be used as we saw fit. But the Dothikkar had finally agreed to curb the priestesses’ power in the North Lands, to stop trying to create heartstones, especially after we had told him such a thing was not possible. Did I believe it would happen?

I would like to. But I had seen greed for decades, even in Sarroth before I’d taken the throne from the previous king. I was more than a little jaded, especially when it came to the promises of strangers.

It was important to Klara, however, and for that reason alone, the Karag would be monitoring the Dakkari progress on that front, ensuring that the agreements were met.

And in exchange on the Karag’s part, for the heartstones were growing in Dakkari soil, we would allow a small population—warriors, mostly, though Klara had also requested scholars—to live among the Karag. They could enter rider instruction if they so wished, choose to take part in the illa’rosh if they passed training, and claim an Elthika of their own. We would let the Elthika decide on their riders, as it had always been.

The territories of Sarroth and Grym—on Alaryk’s agreement—would be the first territories to accept new citizens from Dakkar. With time, however, it might extend into Elysom, Elarin, and Kyloth.

If the Dakkari wanted to bond with an Elthika…they would have to earn the right.

Today marked the first day of our accords, and it would begin with uprooting the heartstones.

Klara took a deep breath. She whispered to me, “What if they’re not there?”

I almost chuckled. Was this what she worried about?

“What if I made a terrible mistake and we negotiated for nearly a week for nothing?”

My hand drifted to her hip. Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to get her back home to Sarroth. I couldn’t wait to have her in our bed, to show her the territory that was now hers, where we would spend over half the year when we weren’t at the mountain village in the Arsadia.

I couldn’t wait to have her all to myself, at least for a little while. I dreamed of mornings where we could spend lazy moments, taking our time to get out of our bed. Where we would just be with each other.

But duty came first. At least for now.

“They’ll be there,” I said, leaning down to murmur into her ear as we watched the chains being tightened by the guards.

In a small clearing close by, just large enough for her to land, Zaridan waited. The chains were attached to her harness, and she would be the one whose power and strength uprooted the tree.

“How do you know ?” she asked.

I gazed into my wife’s beautiful gray eyes, tipping up her chin. The color of them reminded of the fog that flowed over Sarroth on misty mornings, calming and peaceful. Slowly, I said, “Because you said they were. And I believe you. It’s as simple as that.”

She blew out a small breath and tried to hide her pleased smile and the flush that colored the tops of her cheekbones. She was so lovely sometimes, it hurt.

I pressed a small kiss to the scar that curved over the side of her face and then turned my attention back to the tree. She went quiet, but I could tell that her mind was racing.

“The past intertwines here,” she whispered. A shiver traced gently down my back. “It’s all around us. We just have to listen for it. I hear it. ”

“You’re thinking of your ancestor, Vienne?”

She nodded. “It saddens me to watch this, even though I know it’s for the best. Because this tree once saved her life and the life of her husband, her horde king. It gifted her the heartstone that gave her the power to save her people. There is history here. And it wouldn’t surprise me if the last people to lay eyes on this tree had been Vienne and Davik of Rath Drokka,” she said. “There’s something…awe inspiring about that. Magnificent and humbling. Like our past is closer than we ever imagined. Not separated by centuries, but rather like a bridge. A bridge to that past…and it’s right here.”

I was in love with the way her mind worked because she thought so differently from me. She saw beauty in places where I’d never even thought to look. She found art in the folds of this life, where I had only ever seen duty and necessity.

“Sometimes you have to destroy in order to create, aralye ,” I told her, squeezing her hip, pulling her closer to me. “Don’t be saddened by this. Your ancestors gave us this gift. You knew where this place was, you knew the stories passed down your bloodlines of this specific tree. That was not an accident. That was fate. All of this information is just pieces of torn parchment. Pieced back together and rearranged so you can see the entire story. Because of your bloodlines, both of our people have another chance. This might be the last thalara tree in existence, and you knew exactly where to find it. That’s magic and history. Perhaps they are the same thing.”

Klara looked up at me with parted lips as she absorbed the words. “I love that thought,” she said.

Just then, Feranos, next to one of the Dakkari guards, called out, “Attached. We’re ready, Karath .”

My eyes met Dannik’s from across the way. He inclined his head.

“Zaridan,” I called out.

I couldn’t see her because the Ancient Groves was a thick, overgrown forest, but I could sense her presence. I felt the ground shake when she stomped.

“ Thryn’ar! ” I commanded. The flying command.

A roar shook the trees as my Elthika jolted into flight. She knew to go slowly…but it only took her mere moments to uproot an ancient tree.

“ Faryn, ” I ordered. Stop.

The trees shook when she landed back to the ground, the black Dakkari-steel chain rattling.

Klara had gasped, her eyes on the thalara tree, lying on its side, black earth spilling from the underside of its roots like dripping ink.

The sudden blue glow of the heartstones was almost blinding as it filled the clearing.

“There,” I said finally, wanting to see her reaction more. “You were right, Klara. They were here. All this time.”

She turned her watery gaze onto mine. I knew her emotions were out of relief, of happiness…but also of grief. Her mother had been killed trying to create the very thing that had been under Dakkari earth for centuries. That would cut her, deeply, for a long time. It might never stop , and I wished desperately that I could shield her from that ache.

But…there was also hope in her gaze. Hope for a new future. One in which our people would work together, creating tighter bonds, pushing us toward greater things together . She’d told me that Dannik might be struggling with the call for his own destiny, the weight of it…but I knew that he was part of that future. That we wouldn’t be able to succeed without him.

“Sarkin.”

“Hmm?”

Klara turned into my arms as life burst in the clearing. There was excited chatter from the guards and my kya’rassa , the scholars here to write about this day—her friend Sora among them, the Dothikkar even, Dannik, Gevanth and Harnek. It was a celebration. A day to remember.

“I know we still have work to do here,” she said to me. “But after it’s done…I want to go home.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that edged its way onto my features. “And where’s home?”

She grinned. “Sarroth, though truthfully…it’s wherever you are.”

Briefly, I rubbed at my heart when it fluttered in my chest.

“ Lysi? ” I asked, my tone teasing, before winding my arms around her back.

“ Lysi. I’m eager to get back home. To start a life with you, by your side. To train Lygath. To begin chronicling the first Dakkari hordes. To learn everything I can about being a Sorrina to the Sarrothian. That’s what I want. So…”

Behind her, I saw Dannik crouch down at the roots of the thalara tree, his face glowing blue from the magic as he reached out his hand. My eyes returned to Klara.

“So?” I asked quietly, leaning down briefly to brush my lips with hers, unable to resist stealing a kiss.

“Will you take me home?” she asked.

“Yes, aralye ,” I replied.

Dannik’s fist curled around the heartstone, the first of many, plucking it from the roots of the dying thalara tree.

A new age had begun.

“Let’s go home,” I said.