Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

NYRA

They moved as a unit, each of them watching the backs of the others with precision, and they didn’t slow down in the slightest bit to accommodate me. Wren’s light hair fell in front of her face as she turned to look at me. Her eyes were filled with sadness as she gave me a small, sympathetic smile.

Thick branches clawed at my clothing as I stumbled forward in the route they directed me. Dacre had tied my hands together, and the rough rope dug into my wrists as Kai pulled me forward.

Kai held me firmly as if he worried I was going to run again. His arms bulged under the leather uniform as he pulled me along the dense forest. I stumbled over a thick root and gritted my teeth against the pain of my knees slamming into the ground.

Kai helped me back to my feet, but he didn’t utter a word.

We trudged on in silence for what felt like an eternity. My feet ached and my stomach still grumbled from lack of food. I sneaked glances at Dacre, watching his broad shoulders carry us in an unfamiliar direction. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since he bound my hands and handed me off to Kai.

He hadn’t looked in my direction either.

But I stared at him as the moonlight danced off his jet-black hair until the lush trees gave way to a small glade.

The full moon cast a silver glow over the clearing, highlighting the massive tree at its center. Its trunk was wider than any I had ever seen before, and its branches reached high into the sky as if trying to embrace the moon itself. The intricate web of gnarled roots spread out from the base, anchoring the tree to the ground.

“Stand there,” Kai rumbled, his eyes spearing me in place as he pulled one of his daggers from its sheath and sliced through the rope at my hands. It snapped apart effortlessly with a single swipe. I quickly rubbed at my wrists and tried to bring life back into them.

I felt the rough bark of the tree press cool against my back as I stood still. Dacre moved just ahead of me and spread his hands in front of him, palms outspread as he whispered words I could not understand in a tongue that sounded ancient. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across my brow as I watched magic slip from his fingers in glowing golden threads.

The ground beneath our feet began to vibrate and small cracks formed in the earth. The dirt buckled, sending trees swaying and leaves fluttering to the ground as I stumbled backward, clinging to the trunk for support.

Magic had been used in my life daily, but it felt mundane compared to this.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, my voice giving away every bit of my fear.

Dacre didn’t answer me, his focus solely on the ground before him as if he could reach out and physically control the elements. A low rumble filled the air, and the ground began to heave beneath our feet. Energy seemed to dance across my skin as the tremors grew stronger.

The tree quivered violently, its trunk creaking ominously as I heard the sound of wood splintering as it swayed.

The grassy earth suddenly disappeared in an avalanche of dirt and stones plummeting into darkness.

My scream echoed sharply around me as I dropped, my arms wildly flailing in a desperate attempt to find something, anything, to stop my fall. But it was too late. I fell down into the darkness and plunged into the icy water below that stole the breath from my lungs.

As I gasped for air, my mouth opened wide, but instead of air, salty liquid filled my lungs. I thrashed wildly, grasping to find the surface. Desperate for oxygen, my chest tightened and my vision blurred with inky blackness. Panic consumed me as my arms swung, searching for something to hold on to. But the water offered no salvation. It was relentless as it pushed me farther into the depths.

My cloak, already loosened from the struggle of staying afloat, suddenly tightened around my body. I thrashed and kicked, expecting to be dragged down deeper, but instead, something pulled me upward toward the surface. My lungs burned for air as I emerged from the water, gasping and sputtering.

A strong hand gripped the back of my cloak, yanking me upward with ease so that my upper body was pressed firmly against the ground. My chest heaved against the hard earth.

“Are you okay?” Wren asked as she made her way down the last step of a dark set of stairs with Kai behind her. Her eyes searched over my face, but I simply nodded.

Lying had become so easy lately.

Dacre pulled me toward the base of the wooden stairs, and I scampered fully onto the landing. The water was a black abyss, like a midnight sea, without a hint of light or movement.

Sunlight was still pouring in from the chasm in the earth above us, and I blinked up at the stairs reaching all the way to the top and ending at the base of the cave floor.

They could have prepared me for what was happening, let me use the stairs the same way they descended, but they let me fall.

“This way.” Dacre’s voice was like coarse sandpaper as he nodded toward the thin strip of ground that was surrounded by water.

As we moved farther into the cavern, the walls came alive with a warm glow from dozens of floating torches. Firelight danced and flickered along the rough stone, casting shadows that seemed to dance alongside them.

I followed closely behind Wren, my heart pounding in my chest as fear and curiosity warred within me.

As we rounded a sharp corner made of jagged rock, I stopped in my tracks. Before me lay an ethereal city from another world, an immense expanse of ancient architecture half submerged in the eerie water and veiled by the lack of sunlight. The rough silhouettes of broken stained-glass windows caught the flickering firelight of the hundreds of lanterns that seemed to hang from the sky like stars and crumbling stones laid at the base of the snaking river.

The buildings and small patches of land were connected by hundreds of small hanging bridges and pathways. Up above, thick moss and vines clung to the roofs of the buildings and coiled down the sides until they kissed the edge of the water as if they were thirsting for a drink.

My nerves were on edge, but I couldn’t deny the sense of wonder that washed over me as I gazed at this place for the first time. A part of me wanted to savor this moment forever, while another part was already trying to rationalize why I shouldn’t be in this place.

The city my father had spent a lifetime searching for.

Everywhere I looked, people were milling about, most of them dressed in fighting leathers like Dacre, but some were wearing normal clothes instead of a uniform.

There were at least a hundred people walking across the bridges and down the narrow dirt paths. Some were moving in and out of buildings while I could see others through windows settling down for the day.

“This is impossible.” I inhaled a shaky breath, my voice barely above a murmur.

Dacre shifted his hard gaze to me. “Impossible for you, maybe. But for us, it’s the only home we’ve ever known.”

“I don’t understand.” My voice quavered as I spoke, my body wrought with tension. “How could you keep something like this hidden?”

Dacre’s face grew stern, his voice was low and grave, like a thunderstorm rolling in from the horizon. “As if we would tell you that. You can’t even figure out who it is you’re betraying. I don’t trust you.”

I snapped my gaze away from him, taking in the sights and sounds of the hidden city while trying to block out his harsh words. It was far from the legends my father had told me. He had spoken of horror stories and ruthless rebels, but this felt…different somehow.

When I looked around, this felt like a city of people just trying to survive, trying to rebuild something my father had taken away.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the fear that crawled up my spine.

My father’s words of hatred and contempt for this unseen world echoed in my mind, but as I peered out at the sprawling network of bridges and tunnels that seemed to be carved from the earth, I couldn’t find the same disdain. The glimmering torches glowed like stars scattered across an infinite sky, and I couldn’t imagine anyone destroying it.

“Move.” A woman’s forceful hand shoved me forward, breaking me from my thoughts, and I spun around to look at her.

She was roughly my age, dressed head to toe in fighting leathers, and she had more weapons strapped to her body than I had ever seen. Her eyes bore into me with an intensity that made me shift uncomfortably under her gaze.

I had been too busy taking everything in that I hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Your father’s been waiting for you.” She looked away from me to meet Dacre’s gaze as she nodded to the left.

“I’m sure he has, Mal.” Dacre moved past her, barely paying her any attention.

“They brought in a load of recruits.” She said the word with a sneer on her face, and my stomach tightened. “He wants you to deal with them.”

Dacre let out an exhausted sigh before moving across a weathered bridge. The rest of us followed him, and the boards creaked beneath us as I peeked down at the ebony water. I breathed in a short-lived sigh of relief when we reached the other side, where an imposing structure loomed before us. The tall walls were made of thick gray stone, and at its peak was a worn wooden sign that read Revolt in flaking black letters.

We stepped inside, and there were a few people huddled together in a small group. But it was the seven individuals lined up together against the far wall that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

Each of their clothes were marred with dirt and filth, but it was the hunger in their eyes that I couldn’t look away from. The hunger that told me they were trying to escape my father’s cruelty.

“Line up.” Mal nodded toward the others who stood before me, and I foolishly looked behind me before taking another step.

Wren’s eyes darted away from me, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she stood near the door. Dacre and Kai sauntered over to the small group, their heads leaned toward one another’s as they spoke. I squared my shoulders and strode toward the line, ignoring the glances and whispers from those around us.

I looked over the faces of the seven people lined up, but I didn’t recognize any of them. They had to be from Marmoris to be lined up here, but the people of my kingdom didn’t know me.

They knew a name, a character that stories were told about.

But I was nothing more than the princess my father kept hidden, the one he refused to concede as his heir.

My gaze met the man who was closest to me, and his eyes widened as he looked upon me. My stomach clenched as I slowly stepped toward him.

I didn’t recognize him, but I could feel the intensity of his stare radiating from him like heat. It made me pause as I tried not to reveal how nervous I was.

“Princess?”

My heart raced as his voice reached me, barely more than a whisper. I slowly turned my head toward him, scarcely daring to believe this was happening; he seemed to understand the raw fear in my expression.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

He locked his eyes on mine, a fierce determination burning within them. But when Dacre stepped forward, the man’s gaze flicked away from me, revealing a hint of fear that was coursing through me. Mal moved to Dacre’s side and offered him a parchment, which he scanned quickly before returning his attention back to us.

“Welcome to the rebellion,” Dacre said, his voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room. There was no trace of the welcome in his hard gaze.

The man next to me shifted his feet, but I kept my gaze glued forward.

“Some of you are here by your own free will, but for those of you who aren’t, allow me to enlighten you. The Marmoris Kingdom’s protection ends the moment you step down from that mountain they’re perched on. You’re in Enveilorian land now. You either stand with us or die by our blades.”

Dacre’s voice rumbled like thunder, shaking the air around us. His eyes were cold as steel, his broad shoulders squared in a determined stance.

“We don’t allow King Roan’s snakes to move through our land to the southern coast. You either fight with us against his tyranny or you become a traitor to us all.”

My heart thudded in my chest and sweat prickled on my brow. He couldn’t be serious, could he?

The man beside me spoke, and I tensed. “We will never join you filthy traitors. King Roan is the only true ruler.”

“Yet, you run from his tithe?” Dacre cocked his head, and the move reminded me of a predator.

“I will return to the capital city, but I have no magic to spare for my king.”

The man had barely finished speaking when Dacre flung his arm forward and released a dagger I hadn’t even noticed him grab. It flew through the air with a sharp whistle before embedding itself into the man’s neck.

The sudden noise made me flinch, and something warm and wet hit my cheek. I glanced down at my cloak and saw blood mixing into the still-wet fabric. My fingers trembled as I tried to wipe it away, but it only smeared and spread wider.

A ragged cry came from someone off to my left, followed by muffled sobs as the man’s body slumped to the ground.

My breaths came in shallow, ragged pants as I stared down at the lifeless body. I jerked my gaze away and Dacre’s eyes locked onto mine, and I could see something veiled flickered in their depths.

He clenched his jaw and glared, his eyes like burning embers. “We have no tolerance for supporters of the crown,” he growled. His words seemed to echo in the room as the air grew thick with tension. “You join us or you share his fate.”

My vision blurred as I looked down the line of those who stood with me. Everyone had grown eerily quiet and stood as if frozen in place.

My heart raced, pounding against my rib cage as I looked back to Dacre. His jaw clenched tight, and his eyebrows furrowed, creating a stoic mask on his face. Every inch of my body shook with fear and rage as I watched his cold, calculating eyes, witnessing the nonchalance with which he took the life of another.

How many lives had he taken just tonight?

My thoughts drifted to my father and the atrocities he had committed in his pursuit of power. The innocent people he hurt, the lies he spread.

Our world was filled with cruelty, and guilt gnawed at me knowing that it was because of him that brutality and anguish thrived in our kingdom.

He had afflicted our people with such suffering that they were forced to create this rebellion that I now stood before, then punished them for not celebrating his tyranny.

He had turned them into monsters.

“Name?” Dacre nodded to the first person in the line, the one farthest from me.

“Irina.” The woman’s chin trembled as she spoke. “I am the wife of…was the wife of a farmer.”

Dacre kept his composure, but his eyes betrayed him. They darted over her face, taking in every detail with a mixture of sadness and yearning. “And your choice?” He said it so simply as if the woman’s life wasn’t on the line.

“King Roan killed my husband.” She raised her chin, and there wasn’t a trace of that trembling left as anger filled her eyes. “He couldn’t pay the tithe, and he murdered him for it.”

My throat tightened as Dacre clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say a word.

“I want to join.” The determination in Irina’s voice was so clear, it seemed to echo off the walls and draw everyone’s attention. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her hands balled into fists at her sides, and the light in her eyes burned with passion.

“Your magic.” Dacre studied her intently as she raised her brows in confusion. “We need to know what magic you possess so we can know where you will be most useful here.”

My hands formed into fists at my sides.

Irina’s eyes roamed the room for a moment before they settled back on Dacre. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled and murmured almost inaudibly, “I have earth magic.”

“Good,” Dacre replied, his face softening slightly. “We could use more of that.” He looked over his shoulder toward an older man with dark skin and hair as white as freshly fallen snow. “You’ll go with Calix. He’s the head of devising.”

Irina moved toward the man without a trace of hesitation in her steps.

Dacre quickly turned to the next person in line, a boy with sandy hair and large eyes the color of the sea, who looked barely old enough to grow a beard, let alone join a rebellion. “Name and station.”

The boy’s throat bobbed as he nervously swallowed, his eyes wide and frantic as he searched the room. “Cedric Fallon, sir.”

Dacre raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing.

“Where are you from, Cedric?”

Cedric’s wild-eyed gaze swept the room repeatedly as if trying to find something invisible to everyone else. He stood silent and still for a moment, his thoughts obviously elsewhere, before he said softly, “My father. He was taken by the rebellion over a year ago now.”

Dacre’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, and a heavy feeling of dread filled me. “What’s your father’s name?”

“Ammon,” Cedric answered quickly.

Dacre looked over at Kai, and he came to Dacre’s side instantly before they spoke in hushed tones that I couldn’t make out.

“Follow Kai.” Dacre nodded in his direction. “He’ll take you.”

Anger lit in my veins. Was Cedric’s father alive, or had they simply thrown a dagger at that man’s neck because he hadn’t wanted to betray his kingdom?

But Cedric didn’t ask these questions. He moved quickly behind Kai and followed him out the door I just entered through moments before. I watched his every step as he left. Not paying a bit of attention to Dacre or the next person he questioned.

My stomach churned and my skin prickled with dread as I watched the boy disappear from my sight. Dacre continued down the line, questioning and assigning people where he deemed appropriate. There were healers, another whose magic relied on the earth, and one who could manipulate the elements. It was only a matter of time before Dacre reached me, and even as I tried to focus on the words he was saying to them, there was only one thought that kept running through my mind.

I was going to die.

I had no magic to offer their cause. Even if they never found out who I truly was, I served them no purpose.

“And you?” Dacre gingerly stepped around the man’s body that was still lying on the ground beside me and moved directly in front of me, blocking my view.

His dark eyes were cold as he glowered down at me, and his jaw was clenched so tightly I could see the muscles moving beneath his skin. I held my chin high, hoping the resolve on my face matched the disdain in his.

“What about me?” I gritted my teeth as I answered him.

“Name?” His face was a mask of suspicion as he cocked his head to the side and waited for my response.

I could almost taste the syllables of my name on my tongue, but as soon as they came close enough to say, I bit them back until I could taste the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.

“Nyra.” My voice trembled as I spoke my mother’s name, a name that had been forgotten the moment they called her queen. A name no one seemed to remember when they laid her beneath the cold dirt and stripped her title away to give to another.

It took my father a mere few days to find another woman to have at his side.

A woman to bear him a true heir.

A woman who would never be my queen.

I could still feel the lashings my father had delivered across my back when I had refused to bow before her in the wake of my mother’s death.

“And why did the King’s Guard have you locked in that cell?” Dacre’s eyes were dark and unwavering, his gaze locking on to mine with intensity. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to turn away as I held his stare.

“Because I stole ten coins from a man I shouldn’t have.” My voice quavered ever so slightly. It was the truth, and it was one of the first lessons that Micah had taught me on the streets. Keep your story as close to the truth as you can.

“Because he was a man of the king?” Dacre asked with contempt in his voice.

“Because he got me caught.”

Dacre’s lips curled up into a smirk as his eyes scanned me from head to toe. His eyes gleamed with amusement, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance at his smugness.

“Your magic didn’t help you get away?” Dacre’s eyes narrowed as he focused on my hands, which were clenched so tightly my knuckles had turned white.

His question was one that quietly and persistently echoed in my mind. I was the firstborn child of King Roan, heir to the Marmoris throne.

But heirs to a kingdom couldn’t be powerless.

My father knew that all too well, and his words were etched into my mind, a constant reminder of his disappointment.

I was powerless, and that made me worthless to a kingdom that thrived on power.

“I don’t have to tell you what power I have.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, determined not to let him see any sign of wavering in me. His lips pulled back in a smug expression, and he took a step closer.

His gaze trailed over me, and his voice was low and cold when he spoke. “Would you rather be like your friend over there?” He motioned toward the man who still lay at our feet, and revulsion and fear flared within me before I schooled my face into a mask of composure.

“So you’re asking me to join a fight against an oppressive ruler, only to show me more brutality than I’ve ever seen from him?”

Dacre’s smirk evaporated, his jaw tightening. Glances were exchanged among the people around us, and I could hear their whispers, but I was too focused on Dacre to take in any of it.

“If you think this is”—he flicked his hand toward the man beside us—“more cruelty than your king is capable of, then you are one of the biggest fools we’ve ever brought in.”

He slowly shook his head from side to side, and my stomach clenched with a mix of rage and terror. My palms became clammy and sweat trickled down my spine even though I was still cold from the dark water I had plunged into only moments before.

“It’s such a shame.” He started to turn from me.

“One cruelty doesn’t deserve another.” I crossed my arms and stared at the tense muscles of his back. “You’re angry with the king, yet you punish the men and women of his kingdom?”

Dacre’s feet halted mid-step, his body frozen in place. His gaze was fixed on a distant point, and he spoke without turning to me. “We punish those who are foolish enough to still follow a king who would rather hide in his castle and watch his people die than do a damn thing to save them. A loyalist to the king is an enemy to us.”

He paused and slowly turned his head, revealing eyes so dark they seemed to reflect no light. His gaze was like two pieces of solid onyx, ever still and watching.

“Where is your loyalty, little traitor?”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice was filled with venom as the name he had given me hit far too close to the truth.

“I’ll call you whatever I want.” Dacre slowly rotated his body toward me, eyes narrowed and voice stern. “I’ll ask you one more time: where is your loyalty?”

“I have no loyalty to my…” It was right on the tip of my tongue to say father, but I stumbled over my words. “The king.”

He looked at me intently, his gaze lingering on my lips as if he could sense a hidden truth lurking beneath them. “And your power?”

My vocal cords felt as if they were seizing up, but I forced the words from my lips. “I have no power.”

The whispering around me grew more audible as if the crowd was a gathering force in their disapproval. My cheeks burned and my heart raced as I inhaled sharply. Being a fae without magic was unheard of in this realm, and yet, here I stood with no proof that I would ever have any sort of power to control. Despite years of training under my father’s watchful eye, all my efforts had been for naught: never a spark, never a wave of energy to let me know I had even an ounce of potential.

Dacre stared at me, his dark eyes boring into mine and searching for answers. His brows pulled together as he clenched his jaw, and a heavy silence filled the air as if he were trying to decide whether or not I could be trusted. “What do you mean, no power?”

I cocked my head as if I was the one studying him now, and I couldn’t control the irritation in my voice. “No meaning none,” I reiterated. “Have you ever heard of it?”

He shook his head absently as if I hadn’t spoken. “How is that even possible?”

I gritted my teeth at his question. “I’ve been trying to figure that out my whole life. But if you can call up to the gods and ask them, I’d really appreciate an answer.”

He stood like a statue and surveyed me, unflinching despite the quick, sharp burst of laughter that came from the corner of the room. His eyes narrowed until I could feel his suspicion emanating from him. “You’ll be with the warriors.”

“What?” I blurted out in disbelief.

“Warriors. Ever heard of them? They wield a sword and fight for what’s right.”

I rolled my eyes as the heat of frustration rushed through me. “I never said I wanted to join your rebellion.”

“You’d prefer to die?”

I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t keen on being held captive in another prison either. Trapped by my circumstances. I had barely just begun to find my breath since running from my father’s palace, and already, I could feel it being stolen from my lungs again.

When I didn’t answer, Dacre nodded his head once. “Warrior it is.”

“I’m not a warrior.”

“Trust me, that’s more than noted. But if you can’t wield magic, you will learn to wield a sword.”

He shifted his weight to turn away, but before he took two steps, my heart raced, and dread spread through my veins like gushing water.

“Who am I following? Who’s the head of the warriors?”

This time, his smirk turned into a full-blown smile. “Me.”