Renewed purpose wove through her, the knot in her chest starting to unfurl.
Nox grinned again, as if they could sense the wave of resolution cresting inside Elyria. “So,” they said, feline grin widening, “where to, Revenant?”
Elyria smiled, her inner shadow stirring. “Let’s go hunting.”
EPILOGUE
LEVIATHAN CHURCH
Firelight dancedover the dark wood floor of Leviathan Church’s office, casting long shadows across the overflowing bookshelves lining the walls, the piles of missives and tomes.
The lord sat behind his heavy oak desk, elbows perched on the edge, hands clasped under his chin. Boots echoed in the hallway outside, muffled through the heavy door, and his lip curled into a small, satisfied smile when a knock sounded.
He arranged his features into a neutral expression before opening his mouth and letting the gravitas of his voice flow through the room. “Enter.”
With a creak, Sir Cedric Thorne stepped inside, the flickering fire casting the sharp angles of his face in shadow. The knight was dressed casually, his suit of armor foregone in lieu of a dark tunic and breeches beneath a stitched doublet. His chestnut hair had grown in the monthssince he returned from Luminaria, curling at the tips of his ears and around his face. A face that was just as carefully schooled as the lord’s—stoic, respectful. No sign of irritation, of being inconvenienced by the last-minute nature of his summons.
Leviathan knew better than to trust it. Cedric was hiding something from him, had been since the day he emerged from the Celestial Sanctum. The knight had told the lord much of what happened, to be sure. A less-seasoned man might have thought he told him everything.
Leviathan was absolutely positive he had not.
“Sir Thorne,” he intoned, his voice smooth and deep. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Leviathan gestured to a wide-backed chair in front of the desk. “Take a seat, my son.”
Cedric’s eyes widened at the uncharacteristic term of endearment, but he obeyed, dropping into the chair without hesitation. For a moment, Leviathan simply observed him, noting the stiffness of his posture, the flicker in his gold-ringed eyes that might have been something like unease.
“Do I make you nervous, Cedric?” Leviathan asked, running a hand through his dark brown hair, flattening the thicker strands of gray streaked within.
Cedric shook his head. “Of course not, my lord.” Then he seemed to contemplate his words. “Not usually. This is just all a bit unexpected. The messenger made your summons sound rather urgent.”
“Stole you away from your adoring fans, did I? I am sure many are clamoring for the Victor of Havensreach’s attention these nights.” Leviathan let a hint of amusement dance between his words, all too aware of how much Cedric disliked the designation.
The knight huffed something that sounded almost like a laugh. “Hardly, my lord.”
A moment passed, then another. Leviathan allowed the silence to hang between them, to turn into tension, daring Cedric to cut through it. To see if he would let his knightly visage slip, let some of whatever truth he was hiding come to the surface. For a fleeting instant, Leviathan thought he saw Cedric’s hand twitch, as if ready to reach for thedully glowing token hanging from his neck.
True to his role as the honor-bound knight, however, Cedric said nothing. Leviathan was almost disappointed.
“I’ve received word from King Callum. The accord has been finalized, the agreement sealed with blood.” Displeasure curled his lip. “Havensreach will allow Nyrundelle to send some of their people into our lands as part of their search for Varyth Malchior. To hunt the Cult of Malakar.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Arcanians have been officially sanctioned entrance into the realm of Havensreach. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Some emotion flashed across Cedric’s face, too quick for Leviathan to catch. It was a reaction, though. A strong one.
Cedric noticed the lord noticing. “This is a good thing, is it not, my lord? In exchange, they have given up part of the Midlands.”
“Yes,” Leviathan said. “A rather poor deal for them to make, is it not? Swaths of mana-rich land in exchange for passage for a few errant Arcanians. Does that seem like a trade their fairy king should be inclined to make?”
Cedric frowned. “I...I suppose not at first glance. But you are aware of the danger that Varyth Malchior poses. And I’ve explained the lengths to which he has already gone. You know what will happen should he get his hands on the other half of the Crown of Concord. Perhaps their king takes the threat just as seriously.”
“Or, perhaps they know something theythinkwe don’t know about the power Malchior has stolen. Perhaps they race to get access to both pieces of the crown at once, to unite its power before we can.”
“Perhaps,” Cedric agreed, then somewhat hesitantly added, “Is that not what we are doing as well?”
Leviathan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly at Cedric. “And you?”
“Me, my lord?”
