“I need to observe them,” I continue. “To see them with my own eyes the same way I want to see all the magical factions. To learn if everything I’ve heard is true. If they’re all monsters, or if some are worth mercy.”
Riven’s jaw clenches.
Torryn’s gaze narrows.
Sylvin just watches me with unreadable calm.
I rush on, voice gaining strength now that I’ve begun. “I’ve only heard one side. I know what’s been done, what’s been lost. I don’t excuse it, but I also don’t know if brutal retaliation is the answer.”
The fire cracks once, scattering embers. I wait for their rejection, for their fury, or for their backs to turn.
The earth hums beneath me again, giving me strength to stand firm in my thoughts. Even if it means I’ll carry on alone.
Sylvin rises slowly. “Well,” he says, lifting his chin with a grin, “there’s no time like the present to head to my lands, little echo.”
Just like that, he accepts my words.
He lifts his hand, fingers splayed, and the air around us turns biting and cold. Mist gathers near his fingertips, trailing in delicate swirls as he steps a few paces back to empty ground. The temperature drops, dew glistening on blades of grass, and then a ring of frost blooms out from his boots.
The ground beneath him glitters like glass as something begins to take shape, spiraling upward in a perfect circle. Ice crusts over the arch in crystalline veins, each line delicate and impossibly intricate. The center of this new display of power is filled with shifting pale light.
I shiver against the cold flowing from it and feel a memory stir.
Azyric’s voice rings clear in my mind:“The fae have portals. Use one. Don’t pretend you’re walking anywhere, just to gain her sympathy.”
My chest tightens as the reminder of him pierces through the warmth I’d just begun to gather.
Sylvin doesn’t speak at first, but when I glance his way, he’s watching me intently. The usual sparkle in his expression has dimmed.
His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it when he speaks to me. “Shadows are a difficult thing to hold onto,” he says, eyes searching mine as I try to decipher his riddle. “They slip away just when you think you’ve caught them.”
I swallow hard.
“But,” he adds, tipping his head slightly, “they’realwaysthere.”
He shifts his gaze toward the treeline and my head snaps toward it.
A flicker between the trees. A shadow that doesn’t belong to any branch or animal.
My breath catches and relief soothes the sting I’d felt at his absence.
The way he’d looked when I chose to go with Torryn flashes into my mind. That barely masked pain. The way he disappeared without another word.
Before I can spiral too deep into the memory of it, warmth gathers around me and lifts me off the ground with surprising ease.
Torryn.
He sweeps me into a crushing hug, burying his face into my shoulder as he holds me tightly, his body solid and grounding.
“You’re brave, Wren,” he murmurs against myneck. “Not just for walking into new lands, but for being honest even when you know it might not be what we want to hear. Stay true to yourself.”
My throat catches at how much his words mean to me. I hold onto him just a second longer than I should, clutching the back of his shirt, inhaling the sun and cedar, the safety that clings to his skin.
When I pull back, his golden eyes are soft, almost shining. He presses a kiss to my forehead before letting me slowly slip to the ground.
Once my feet are back on the ground, I turn to Riven, who’s already standing.
He doesn’t reach for me, but when I step forward and wrap my arms around him, his arms wrap around me tighter than before. His lips lower to the top of my head, resting there for a breath before moving.
