A chill runs through me. This is how New Stygarde has bolstered their army. All those children Brahm and Nevina stole from the villagers, all those children demanded as a blood tithe to the kingdom—they aren’t just using them as servants and labor; they’re training them as soldiers, sacrificial pawns to play against the rebellion. My teeth clench with my desire to kill her.
She looks around her, seeming to notice the scorchedearth fully for the first time, devastation that could only be caused by intense heat. “Only a dragon could do this,” she says softly. “I knew it wasn’t just magic levitating that crate. They have the beast.”
“It appears so.”
“Where did she find the dragon?” Nevina seethes. “I was told it was dead!”
“I do not know, my queen. No one has seen the creature in centuries.”
She shakes her head. “We must double our efforts. Send word to the hunters and the Rivertoads. Double the bounty on their heads.” She yanks the reins, bruising her rabble beast’s mouth as she signals for it to turn. “Come. We must inform the king.”
To my relief, they ride off toward the campsite, never knowing they were mere feet from me. I move in the opposite direction, my heart sinking and my stomach turning to lead. We had one advantage. Up until today, New Stygarde didn’t know about Phantom. The dragon was our secret weapon, along with Eloise’s newfound magic.
That advantage is gone.
Not a single being on Tenebris hasn’t heard of the dragon. It’s what started the old war to begin with. King Entrydal wanted the dragon for its magic. My father, King Malek, believed the beast should remain free. Neither Nevina nor her father knows about Aurora’s prophecy, that the son of King Malek will protect Dimhollow and bring peace to Tenebris with a dragon at his side. Peace to Tenebris. Not just Stygarde. All of Tenebris.
Eloise is the dragon.
And I fear what’s in store when my brother and his elf queen realize what that means.
7
The Prophecy
Eloise
Ariadne helps me find blankets for the children, and we set them up on a pallet in front of the fire. On the way here, with Phantom’s help, I scanned them for tracking spells. I found nothing. They’re safe, as safe as two orphans can be in this world.
They weather the news of their father’s death with the sort of reaction I’d expect from battle-worn warriors rather than children. Zarissa’s eyes fill with tears, but none actually fall. Zander doesn’t even flinch. He simply nods and then reminds me that his sister hasn’t eaten in days. His sister. He only asks for her, those haunting, oversized eyes of his fixed on me. With a lump in my throat, I prepare two heaping bowls of stag meat and goblets of blood, and I watch as they both dive in, choking a little when they try to swallow too much, too fast.
The small cabin has one bed, which Ariadne and Warbill have platonically shared since fleeing Bolvet.Ariadne offers to give it up for the children, but Zander is quick to point out that he and his sister prefer to be close to the fire. True or not, the discussion ends there. At this point, we’ve done everything we can do for them.
Warbill leaves to chop more firewood, but I don’t think it’s ash in his eyes making them water as he moves past me for the door. I can’t stop thinking about Victus, how he gave his life to save these children from New Stygarde. How these two are all that is left, the only free progeny of Bolvet Village.
“Was Damien not with you?” Ariadne asks. We stand at the back of the cabin watching the children eat and avoiding any discussion of the future. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “He left when I did. Maybe he ran into some trouble. I should go look for—” The door opens, and a dark man with an even darker scowl walks in. Damien’s boots thunk on the wood floor. His cloak is trimmed in shadows that writhe and coil off it like curls of smoke, then disappear as he steps into the light. The moment he sees me, he seems to see only me and draws me into a needful embrace.
Ariadne excuses herself to help Warbill with the firewood, leaving us alone, aside from the children, who are distracted with their food on the other side of the cabin.
“You made it,” I whisper. “I was beginning to worry.”
He draws back, his eyes drifting to the children. “Worry is not uncalled-for in this situation,” he says quietly.
“What happened?
“I saw Nevina.” I draw in a sharp breath, and he quickly adds, “She didn’t see me. The soldier who died inthe fire, his name was Xerxes. He was one of the sacrifices, a child drugged to do her dirty work.”
“What?” Guilt gnaws at my heart.
“It’s not your fault, Eloise. Neither you nor Phantom could have known. I only suspected when I got a closeup view of him, and I wasn’t certain until I heard Nevina confirm it.”
“So she’s not just training the children as soldiers. She’s enchanting them to force their compliance.” My stomach turns with the news. Before we left the castle, we suspected Nevina would use the child sacrifices as her human shield against the rebellion. But forcing them to fight as pawns sacrificed to defend her is beyond the pale.
“Much harder to rise up when it could mean the death of your child. Harder still when your child is enchanted to fight you to the death.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I cover my face with my hands.
