“Where are you going?” Reena asked.
Ronin stared at the crackling fire. “I need to punch something.”
“Me too.” Cassandra stood, sliding the veiling potion into her pocket.
Reena heaved out a sigh and followed the pair out of the hall.
Hours later, even after he was sweaty and spent from pushing his body to the brink, his stubborn memories lingered.
And he had a bad feeling they were only going to get harder to ignore.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tristan fell to his knees and clutched his chest as the shimmering portal spit him and Ione out into a crumbling village square.
It was such an odd sensation, traveling via these opals. Felt like the Fallen Goddess herself had plunged her hand into his chest to drag him through space and time.
As he knelt on the warm, packed dirt—much warmer than the cold stone of the Northern Territories—Tristan heaved while Ione stood over him, waiting for him to regain his wits.
“You’ll get used it to.” She patted his shoulder before cupping a hand beneath his armpit.
The strength in her grip startled him. The Ione he’d known was a soft, delicate thing. Gaining the supernatural strength of a Fae, combined with whatever hardness had crept into her soul these many years, had forged her into something new.
The air in the small village was so thick and humid that Tristan began to sweat in his leathers. He unzipped his jacket, pulling at his white cotton shirt. Ione’s gaze flicked to his chest, then bounced away.
He pretended not to notice.
A brick clocktower anchored a square ringed by vine-choked buildings. Narrow paths had been hacked through the greenery, and furry fingers of moss draped between the dwellings. A village lost to time, swallowed by the ravenous jungle.
“What is this place?” Tristan swatted his neck, then flicked a squished bug off his palm.
“Lebaedia.” Ione waved at a cloud of gnats. “An old human village, abandoned when they fled the continent after the war.” Tristan turned toward the sound of rushing water. “A small off-shoot of the Dordenne flows past here. It’s close enough to fetch water and small enough that no cargo ships or Empire vessels can navigate it. We’re well hidden. Plenty of fish in the river plus fruits and vegetables in the jungle. Anything else we need, we get from Rhamnos. The crew uses the opals to travel there. It’s a much shorter journey than the one we just took. You might even be able to handle it without vomiting up your guts.”
He snorted a laugh. “How long have you all been here?”
“This is just one of our various outposts throughout the continent. We stick to abandoned human villages; the Empire typically ignores them. They don’t want to be reminded that two species once shared these lands.” Ione sneered, removing her fur-lined cloak and revealing a white shirt over slim black pants. “We have several bases here in Akti. A few in Cernodas as well.”
Tristan followed Ione across the quiet square. “Where is everyone?”
“Down in Rhamnos drumming up support for the cause. They’ll be disappointed they weren’t here to welcome you.”
“Why?”
Ione smiled hesitantly, and Tristan’s gaze caught on the small scar on her chin, the one she’d had since childhood. A lump formed in his throat. So her Turning hadn’t washed awayallsigns of her previous mortality. “Some of them have been waiting centuries to express support for their Exiled Prince.”
Something stirred in Tristan’s chest. The something that had been stirring since he and Cassandra had that conversation in his bungalow what seemed like a lifetime ago.
He rubbed at his chest, warring emotions of excitement and terror flowing through him. He was on the cusp of becoming the leader of a movement he’d dreamed about since he was a boy. But was about to embark on it without the one woman who made it all worth it.
He would need to learn how to balance it. How to work for the good of the many when all he wanted was to dedicate his own cause to a single person. He knew how strong Cass was. Knew that Reena and Ronin would be there to protect her, too. He hoped that together they’d find a way to survive until he and the Teles Chrysos could get them out. Heforcedhimself to cling to that hope.
Ione knocked upon a faded blue door, warped after centuries of exposure to the humidity. Exotic purple flowers dotted the vines blanketing the two-story brick rowhouse. From beyond the door came a faint whizzing and the steady metallic clang of a hammer.
Ione knocked harder and the clanging paused.
The Fae male who opened the door had a regal countenance. Certainly more regal than Tristan himself, even with his royal heritage.
Teal-blue eyes glowed in stark contrast to the male’s ebony bald head, and a warm smile revealed a slash of glistening white teeth with two sharp, elongated canines. He raised an elegant hand, and Tristan raised his own to complete the greeting.
