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“What she said.” I nodded toward Delilah. “Whatever you decide is fine with us.”
Camille turned back to Trenyth. “Right now the war there is too dangerous for us to come get him. But if Smoky, Trillian, and Roz could bring his body back with them, we can have our ceremony here on Samhain. Then when it’s safe, we will take him home to Otherworld and lay him to rest near Mother. Which reminds me, now that we know for sure that he’s dead, we have to notify Aunt Rythwar.”
“I have a spare messenger. I will send word to her.” Trenyth’s eyes were kind, and I wished to hell that his world hadn’t been torn to shreds. Not only had he lost the love of his life—Queen Asteria—but he’d been forced to take on a new Queen who needed him more than anyone probably ever had in his life. Sharah was ill equipped to handle running a kingdom.
“Thank you.” Camille shuddered lightly, then shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “How goes the war, or should we even ask?”
“The storm is nearing Svartalfheim. King Vodox and his mages are waiting for it. We still don’t know where the sorcerers who are controlling it are hiding, but they can’t be that far away. Meanwhile, the goblin hordes—and they aren’t just goblins, but trolls and Sawberry Fae and bogies and their ilk—they continue to enter Elqaneve thick and furious. As many as we mow down, still others take their place. But the legion of soldiers from Nebulveori are almost here and the dwarves are mighty fighters. They will help roust the enemy from the lands.” At that, Trenyth actually smiled.
“What about the Cryptos and the others?”
“The Dahnsburg Unicorns are sending a contingent of their warriors—unicorns and ogres and all who answer to King Uppala-Dahns. King Vodox sent soldiers to help their lighter brethren even though they, themselves, are under siege. And you know that your own city-state, Y’Elestrial, immediately dispatched a legion of soldiers. They are fighting alongside our warriors.”
“And the dark moon priestesses?” Camille looked uncomfortable. She’d only just recently found out some daunting news about her order.
“Derisa, the High Priestess, is sending them even as we speak. As far as the rest of Otherworld… they are waiting… and watching. Ceredream will still not take sides. Aladril is sequestered in debate over the matter now.”
Delilah cleared her throat. “How’s Sharah doing?”
Trenyth pressed his lips together. “As well as we can expect. The medications the healers have given her have dried up her milk, and her hormones are in a drastic flux as they return to normal.” At Delilah’s soft growl, he held up his hands. “If there had been another way, you know I would have taken it. But there wasn’t… we needed Sharah to step up to the crown. She has been rallying our people—what there are left of us.”
With that last statement, the finality of this mess hit home. The look on his face said it all. Kelvashan had been destroyed. The Elfin race was decimated. What had been a thriving culture now stood in smoking ruins, and the survivors were fighting for their lives.
“Can you bring the survivors—the women and children—over here?” Camille asked. “They’d be safe then.”
“But would they? How long do you think Earthside has? If Telazhar continues to wreak his havoc across this land, you are not safe either. The storm Telazhar’s sorcerers have conjured up can rip a mountain apart. Destroy a palace—you saw that firsthand, Camille. You know how deadly and devastating this creature is. I don’t know how they created it, it truly is a construct of some sorts, but the storm has consciousness and will, and malevolent thought. If they can do that… what else can they do?”
At that moment, a familiar face appeared behind him. Smoky!
Camille let out a little cry. “My love!”
Smoky, her dragon husband, was six foot four, and his silver hair coiled down around his ankles. He was dressed in white, as always, and his piercing eyes were frosty and glimmered with the light of his heritage.
He looked harried, and tired, too. But as usual, the dragon was spotless. “Love, my sweet, I am so sorry about your father.” He looked toward the rest of us. “You, too, Menolly and Delilah. If there’s anything I can do, just ask. I’m here. We are family.”
“Can you bring our father’s body home to us?” Camille whispered. But we could all hear her plainly. All Fae—half-breed or not—had excellent hearing.
Smoky looked at Trenyth, who nodded. “Go ahead. One day won’t make a difference. Not with the chaos that is rampaging through the land.”
As Trenyth moved out of the way, Smoky leaned toward the mirror, staring directly at Camille. “We are still looking for Ben and Venus. So far, we’ve found no signs of them. We’ll bring your father home, then return to continue the search.”
Camille bit her lip. “Can you really spare the time to do this for us?”
“For you, I would spare the world.”
And just like that, the big galoot of a dragon once again proved himself worthy of my sister’s love. I liked Smoky, but he could be a handful and I had no clue how he managed to keep that tremendous ego under lock and key when dealing with Camille’s other two husbands, but somehow, he did. And for that, I gave him props.
Trenyth retook the seat in front of the mirror. “Do not worry, girls. If they haven’t been able to find Benjamin and Venus the Moon Child yet, another day will not matter. Perhaps foolish words, but in this turmoil, there has to be some measure of compassion. I know it’s meager comfort, but you need your father’s body with you.”
Smoky nodded. “Trillian, Rozurial, and I will come home for the night and return here tomorrow. We’ll be there soon. I can bring your father’s body through the Ionyc Seas, and Roz can bring Trillian.”
With that, the fog filled the mirror again.
“Well, that’s that.” I leaned back. “There is no doubt or hope left.”
The whole thing was surreal. Even though our father’s soul statue had been shattered, we still had held on to hope—ill-placed as it was—that perhaps it had been a mistake. That he had survived.
I had to admit that even I had clung to that thin thread, and I was by far the most prosaic and pessimistic of the three of us. Maybe… just maybe, we thought… something else had broken his soul statue besides his death. Maybe a rat or bird or cat had knocked it over. Now that hope was dashed.
