RIPPLE

46

Aria spent the rest of the day alone in her room, only interacting with Taren when they dropped off food in the evening.

"Want to talk?" they said when she opened the door. Aria shook her head. "Want to hug?"

She nodded once. Taren gave her a small smile and pushed past her, setting the food on the desk and pulling her into a familiar embrace, their cheek resting on the top of her head.

They stood there like that in comfortable silence until Taren chuckled. "You should have seen Luka and Evelyn at training today. They both looked like lost cubs."

Aria wanted to laugh, but really it just made her sad. She pulled back and looked at her friend, her second. Her mentor in so many ways. "Should I forgive them?"

"You know I can't answer that for you."

"Would you forgive them?"

Taren looked at her sternly. "Aria, I've never seen you so happy as you are when you're bickering with them. When you've just come from spending time with them. And you can lie to yourself about it all you want, but I know you. I know you feel something deeper for Luka than you want to admit. I can only guess how you feel about Evelyn," they raised an eyebrow, "but I do know she's pretty broken up about this, too. I can't tell you what I would or wouldn't do because I'm not you, but it's not often I see you laughing like you have lately. Even through all the shit that's been piled on our plates."

That brought a genuine smile to Aria's face, tears welling in her eyes. "We've had so much shit on our plates."

" So much," Taren agreed, mirroring Aria's joy. "And yet…"

Aria released a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes. "Okay, you've made your point."

"So. Is there something you'd like to share about Evelyn?" Taren eyed her.

"Is there something you'd like to share about Finn?"

Taren's eyes squinted, but the corners of their lips curled up. "Don't deflect, Aria Zephyr. You weren't as quiet as you thought you were."

Aria buried her face in her hands. "Gods, I can't have a single secret around here, can I?"

"Unfortunately, no," Taren laughed. "There was a suspicious amount of movement rumbling through the ground, which I would have ignored, but Finn kept bitching about the sounds."

Aria sighed. "Damn it, Finn."

"It's probably for the best that we were awake since you two weren't keeping watch," Taren ruffled her hair playfully. "Anyway, I came to bring you food, but also to tell you that everyone's meeting tomorrow to plan out our final strategy now that we've had some time training together. If you don't feel up to it, though, I can—"

"I'll get all of my sulking out tonight," she said with a huff. "I'll be there."

** *

"Before we get started," Shara commanded the attention of everyone in the room, clasping her hands together, "I would like to propose that we hold a party before the equinox. A chance to enjoy one another's company with food and drink, music and dancing. We all deserve a chance to unwind, before…" Her throat bobbed nervously. "Well, I don't need to say it, do I?"

Aria's mother took her seat next to Shara. "I think that's a lovely idea," she smiled. "I could certainly use a night to relax, I'm sure the troops would appreciate it since we don't get to have a real Equinox Ball this year. Thank you for the suggestion."

The two women nodded to each other. It brought a glowing warmth to Aria's chest, seeing them interact so kindly. She wasn't sure that Shara had necessarily forgiven the Zephyrs, but it did appear she was maybe on her way there. The general was definitely happier than she'd seemed when they first met, so Aria would chalk that up to a win.

"Wonderful," Shara chimed. "How has joint training been going?" She looked at Malachi and Jil, both seated at the opposite end of the table.

Things were looking promising, they explained. Aria watched them with wide eyes, hearing about the different exercises and maneuvers they'd perfected in just a few short days. Everyone was extremely committed to performing at their best, it seemed.

Luka sat next to Malachi, listening intently and nodding along. Aria's eyes traveled along his strong jawline, his waves pulled up and gathered in a knot. She'd avoided him this morning, not wanting to draw attention to the tension that pulsed between them. This day was about strategizing, nothing else. She needed to tune him out until she could find the time to sit down with him properly .

By the time she realized how much her mind had wandered, the group had already moved onto the next topic. They would continue operating under the assumption Vera would not give in to a truce or treaty, or whatever they hoped to talk her into. Even though their hopes were low, they would still suggest it. "It's always worth a shot," General Brune reminded them. But considering the fact Vera had hidden herself from their view, they knew whatever brewed inside her was likely beyond stopping at this point. They needed to prepare for the inevitable. Now, they speculated about the best way to neutralize her.

"I wish there was a way we could guarantee a storm," Luka mused. "If I could channel lightning, pierce her heart with it… We may stand a chance."

"If only we could control the weather," Acasia scoffed from the other side of Shara. They continued on, mulling over other ideas. But the storm comment had Aria's mind spinning.

"Father," she interrupted them, turning to find Arach's brow arched, "What was the bedtime story you used to tell me? About the fae of the wind?"

"Oh. Aria," he shook his head, apparently seeing where she was headed. "It is nothing but a tall tale, something passed on through generation to generation, exaggerated over time."

"But what if it's not just a tale? All myths, all legends come from somewhere, don't they? What if it's possible?" Aria protested, frenzied thoughts whirring in her mind. She thumbed at the hoops in her ears furiously, the image of the painting in her parents' chambers flashing vividly behind her eyes, the fae with their arms raised and fires raging around them. It might work —

"What story?" Shara asked.

Aria turned to address the group, suddenly convinced this far-fetched idea of hers held some weight. She recited the story, one she'd heard so many times before falling asleep, from memory. "Hundreds, if not thousands of years ago," she started, "an angry god rained terror among his lands. Flames coursed through their crops, molten rock flowed from their rivers. The fae, a kind and just people, sought to protect the land they relied upon to live. They could not understand why their god treated them this way, but they believed they could find a way to counteract his cruelty.

"They prayed for rain to come, to extinguish their burning lands, but it was unpredictable. And their god did not hear them. They trained—practiced day after day—to find a way to use their magic to relieve the fires around them. But the wind only fueled the flames, and the molten rock did not respond to their usual earthen powers. One day, a guard watching the skies realized the winds shifted when a storm was coming. So he watched, waited, tracking the wind patterns each day."

The table sat still, enthralled, listening to her recount the tale.

"When he informed the king of his research, the king heard him out patiently and asked him to try whatever he thought was necessary to use these findings for good. So the guard started his own training sessions with some of the people whose magic was strongest. Years passed as they tried and failed many times to recreate the winds that surged around them during a storm.

"But one day, they succeeded. Clouds formed above them and gave them rain, turning the god's fires to embers and ash, cooling and solidifying the lava into rock which they could then move, revealing the nutrient-dense earth below. They practiced and perfected their technique, sharing it far and wide across the lands until the god could no longer keep up with their efforts and released his hold on the kingdom, or so the happily-ever-after ending went," she finished the story out of breath, now pacing behind her chair, eyes following her back and forth. "What if we could do that? What if we could create our own storm, too? "

"Aria, I'm telling you," Arach said, "Even if it wasn't just a myth, no one in Wren is powerful enough to do that."

"Let's say it was true," Joyen followed. "Their knowledge has slipped through the threads of time. It took them years to figure out how to do that. We have merely a fortnight , if we're lucky."

"Aria may be onto something," Jil's voice cut through the dense air building in the room. "If Luka believes the lightning will be as powerful as he claims it is, it may be the only shot we have against her. We could assign a group of fae to practice over the next few weeks, see what they can manage to do. We will come up with a fallback plan, of course, but I believe it is worth a try."

General Brune's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Can we afford to pull your strongest people from their training just for this small chance of success?"

"A small chance is still a chance," Aria said weakly. "It's always worth a shot," she pushed the general's words back at him.

"We'll be fine without them," came Malachi's voice. "I've seen what I need to see from them, we'll make it work."

And that was that. Aria's outlandish idea had turned into an actionable plan. The table continued the discussion for nearly the entire day, hashing out who would participate in their storm-creation efforts, who would be stationed where during their charade of a party, which battalions would carry which weapons, and so on.

But Aria's magic began to thrum under her skin, awoken by the new and exciting challenge. The only fae who had ever carried both Zephyrian and Erdanean powers. If anyone could do it, could lead her people to do something incredible, it was her. She'd never truly tested the limits of that power, and this was her chance to use it for something that mattered.

When they broke for dinner, Aria avoided Luka's lingering gaze and headed straight for her room, wanting to write down everything she could remember from that tale as if it threatened to dissipate from her reach if she didn't put it on paper.

She didn't stop until fitful sleep claimed her, her journal sprawled beside her in bed.

***

Vera Erdane sat on her plush bed and pressed firmly on her temples, willing away the pain that thrummed in her skull.

Garreth reached for her neck to massage it but recoiled quickly as his fingertips sizzled against her skin. "Shit!" he screeched in pain. "Your Majesty, are you—"

"Quiet, Garreth," she hissed, his shout sending another round of shocks to her brain. "No, I'm obviously not alright."

Her body temperature had been steadily rising over the past few weeks and now she was apparently scalding to the touch. Which Garreth had found out the hard way when she'd commanded him to her rooms to please her, in the hopes of relieving her headache.

So much for that.

She shimmied back into her shirt while he looked at her like she had grown a third eye. Which, she supposed, was not entirely far-fetched given the current state of her body.

"Tell the Voltis woman to fetch me some ice."

"She and her husband are busy preparing the troops," he said, "as you requested."

"Then ring the damn service bell, or fetch it for me yourself, you bumbling fool. "

She didn't have the patience for this right now, she really didn't. She could barely focus her thoughts enough to even request the ice to begin with. Garreth wisely took the opportunity to part from her.

He'd always been so loyal to her. Her most trusted counterpart. He'd been the first to start recruiting people to their shared cause all those years ago, really the whole reason they had an army at all.

Garreth, with his deep voice and flawless skin. His undying fealty. He'd always been a comfort to her. When he wasn't away, tending to his disgustingly perfect family, anyway. She'd almost been sad to see him come back injured after following her granddaughter into the forest that day. Almost.

Mostly, she was just glad she didn't have to replace him with one of her other dedicated lackeys.

He re-entered the room cautiously, a small block of ice wrapped in a thin cloth dripping from his hand. "Where does it hurt?"

"What kind of question is that? Everywhere, Garreth, it hurts everywhere." She resumed her curled position on top of her bed. It was becoming difficult to not show weakness, which was why she'd been sequestering herself even more than usual as of late. That, and to make sure no one had a chance at harming her before the equinox.

He sat next to her on the bed and touched the block to her neck. It sizzled on impact, but he held it in place. She let out a sigh of minimal relief as the cold water began streaming down her back where it melted against her skin.

The block wouldn't last more than a few minutes. She'd need another soon. But most of her staff had become frightened of her, a handful of them vacating the estate without so much as a note. She was down to just a couple of the most committed ones, and a few of her closest guards, that she trusted to be near her and see her in this embarrassing state.

"It's getting worse," he said softly, his brow furrowed.

"I can handle it."

"I know." He paused. "It's just… They're growing restless."

"Well, I can't very well rush a god, can I?" she asked, venom in her voice. "Do your job and make them un-restless."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The words came out like a sigh. He, too, was growing impatient. And she couldn't have that.

"Garreth, do you remember what you told me? When you volunteered to raise an army for me?"

He hesitated. "I'm sure I told you many things, Your Majesty."

Vera swallowed the molten rocks in her throat, trying to appear as sweet as possible. She needed him at his best, and if she had to coat his ego and remind him of his loyalties, then that's what she would do.

"You said you would do whatever it took for me to become the leader of a unified Wren," she said. "That you would stop at nothing until both the shifters and fae were back under my control. And then you promptly began recruiting people into our little militia. Do you remember that?"

His fingertips were carefully touching the chilled skin on her neck, now, the ice nearly gone. "Of course, my queen. I still feel that way."

"Good," she said, meeting his worried gaze, the glow of her skin reflecting in his pupils. "You've been so good to me. I can't have you fading out now, not when we're so close to having our wish. Can you rally our troops for me, Garreth? Can you do that?"

"Yes, my queen," he said, closing his eyes tightly. "It's just, the people are asking about you. Who you are. It didn't matter as much to them before, but now that they're preparing for battle, they are wondering who is calling the shots, who they're fighting for—"

"And you will tell them what you've always told them. That their leader is in constant prayer, speaking with Mallium directly. That I will be revealed when I lead them to battle. We cannot have word getting out before then, you know that as well as I do. It will risk everything we've worked for."

Ever since Aria had arrived at her gates with those creatures in tow—and the traitorous Voltis child—Vera's guards had alerted her to grumblings, rumors spreading about her. And the more the rumors spread, the more she was in danger. She may have garnered a hefty army, but there were still many in her territory that didn't agree with her. She couldn't risk any attempts at thwarting her plan.

"My identity will be revealed to them soon enough," she shifted under his gentle touch. "Just placate them for a few more days."

Garreth let out another labored sigh and removed his fingers from her neck where the skin began to heat again. "Yes, Your Majesty."