17 years ago
The night sky is a tapestry of stars, its light twining with the ocean beneath it. The popping and cracking of a campfire interrupts the rhythmic surging of waves against the shore. A salty breeze swirls away the smoke from the enchanting blue flames that consume the driftwood. Lena grips the flannel blanket tighter around her shoulders as she yawns.
“Tell me the story of the magic land,” she whispers to her parents.
Bryn sweeps the hair out of Lena’s eyes and grins down at her, tracing a fingertip along the new sun-kissed freckles across her daughter’s nose. “Okay, but just the one, and then you must sleep, Helena. We start a new adventure tomorrow.”
Lena nods, but blinks furiously, trying to stave off the sleep that is settling over her.
“In a magical land far, far away between the gods and the mortals of Earth, there’s a realm ruled by winged women.”
“The Valkyries,” Lena whispers with awe.
Bryn nods, tucking Lena’s small body closer to her side. “Yes, my Poppy, the Valkyries. They rule over the warriors that are selected by the Father to fight in the Great War. They live in a magical land with towering mountains and waterfalls that create dazzling rainbows. The Ayele river snakes through the capital with four ancient bridges that cross the flowing water.”
This story is one of Lena’s favorites, as it’s much happier than the story about the dragons and shifters her dad favors. As if her thoughts conjure him up, he sinks down into the sand beside them.
“But the Great War is coming, and the warriors must unite under the true queen to prevent evil from spilling over into the human realm.”
Her mom’s voice takes on an unfamiliar edge, the story shifting away from the normally tranquil one and into something darker.This is not how the story goes.Lena struggles to stay awake to hear the new part of the story. Rubbing her tired eyes, she focuses on her mom’s face.
“Poppy, most people don’t believe in Valkyries or even the gods that we believe in. But the world is much larger than you can see with your own eyes. Like a magnificent tree, the many worlds rest on its branches.And you will be the one to decide its fate…”
The sound of her mother’s voice fades away as sleep wins, dragging her into dreams of soaring through rainbows. Lena’s father picks her up and carries her to her bedroll. A feeling of safety settles through her, and she snuggles against his chest, slipping into an even deeper sleep.
“I want to go home, Sig. Odessa could help us keep her safe,” Bryn whispers, stroking the flush on Lena’s cheeks.
“You haven’t even heard from her since we left. As soon as Eira and Balthasar have taken care of things, we will.”
Bryn shakes her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “The prophecy can’t be about her. It just can’t be.”
Sig wraps an arm around Bryn, pulling her against his broad chest and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We searched for nearly fifty years for answers and found none. We knew the risk we were taking when we finally conceived her.” He stares down at his daughter, silver lining his eyes as his gaze sweeps over the thirteen freckles on her arm, like a constellation of stars in the sky. “I didn’t want it to be true either. But the marks have appeared. She’s destined for far greater things in our world. So now we follow our plan and raise her the best we can. She will be the savior or … its destruction.”
I’ve spiked a corpse to the wall of my throne room. The putrid scent of the asphidra corpse is the first thing you notice when breaching the door of the Great Hall. And that’s exactly how I want it. The next thing to happen after the reek of death assaults you is the wide-eyed search for the cause of such an affront. The whites of people’s eyes when they see the perpetrator have soothed the visceral part of my rage.
Good.
Let them finally see what they willfully ignored.
My attention slides to the right side of my throne, to where Lachlan stands. His charismatic grin is gone, replaced by a grim line. But it’s the swollen black eye and the puckered skin of the slowly healing cut on his forehead that have my teeth grinding. I had assumed killing the imposter and Julius would restore our magic. And I could not have been more wrong.My attention returns to the room in front of me. To the people that are now trickling in.
In the days following the battle, I’ve assumed control of the throne, tracked down the remaining citizens that fled into the mountains, and sent missives to the councilors to have every able person report to the Great Hall. Immediately.
And now I wait.
“Are ye gonna leave it up the entire time?” Lachlan’s voice cuts through the whispers and stares of those already gathered.
“Yes.” I hiss, drumming my fingers against the armrest of the crystal throne.
“But it?—”
“Smells?” I finish for him. “I’m aware. But they’re going to look at it.”
“We’ve replaced the stones underneath it three times.” When I don’t respond, he adds a shade softer, “There’s got to be a better way.”
The gentleness in his voice nearly snuffs out the fire burning within me. To look at his face would definitely douse it, but I need it. The rage is the one thing keeping me going, and if I stop for just a moment, the weight of the last few days will undo me completely.
“It’s not burning through the stones now. Maybe the venom has to be pumping through its veins for it to be acidic.” I clench my teeth. “But regardless, this is the way I’m doing it.” My voice is not my own. I hardly recognize the bite infused in each syllable. I keep my eyes straight ahead and ignore the niggling desire to gaze his way.
