Page 19 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“Stronger than Melanthe?”

“So they say.”

“I heard,” another whispered, “the winds have been mad, too.”

“It’s like a curse,” another snarled. “No salt, no spices, no coal or oil. Nothing. The winter lands are falling under the same curse as ours. Except there are no lilies this time.”

“Galanthus,” another murmured, and realisation struck me. “Instead of lilies, there are snow flowers growing in the middle of summer when the cold is the harshest it has ever been. It makes no sense.”

“Gods make no sense,” another huffed.

“Neither do men,” I said, and all went quiet. “You believe in curses and prophecies, make vile claims, and take vile actions based on them, but make no sound or blink no eye when men do worse than gods or prophecies or curses. Do you know what that is called?” I looked at them over my shoulder. “Hypocrisy. Amongst many other names that I’ve yet to learn in your tongue.”

Was Kilian messing with my father all this time without him even possibly knowing? If they couldn’t cross the Mahara channel, it meant that Kilian was playing my game with my father. Keeping them away from necessities. Starving Isjord.

Then it all made sense.

The change in people’s reaction to me. The sudden support. The hope. The doubt. Humans remained oddly human after all. Pointing at a non-existent curse rather than back at their own faults. And making up a saviour when there was no need for saving in the first place.

I’d not even realised Demir was a foot from me when he spoke, “If you don’t wipe that grin off your face, they might think you mad, little heiress.”

Instead, I flashed him an even brighter one. “What can I do when the joke walks right up at me?”

“Hope you can find humour in the fact that we will leave for the sceptre as early as tomorrow morning.”

“Absolutely. Let’s see what you’ve been struggling to do for—what? Years?” I leaned forward, resting an elbow on my knee. “How did poor you even find them without me?”

He leaned in, resting his hands on my chair arms. “I was there when it was said that the blood of a Skygard would be the one to raise Aurora from the sceptre. I was there when your ancestor took it apart five hundred years ago. So, I did just that. Used the blood of a Skygard to look for her.” He put a hand on my shoulder and grinned. “Almost got your uncles. Had they not vanished into thin air like they did. The noble act cost me two more decades. I had to spend years recovering from the damage they caused to my body. A body that by gods should have not been harmed the way it did.” He pushed my hair back. “But I am prepared for this Skygard.”

Gods—gods, how many roots did this rotten plant even have? “You were there that night?”

“How do you think your grandfather died, the mighty King of Skies—The Unbreakable Dragon? I have to give it to him though, he did kill me about four dozen times before he got tired and overwhelmed fighting me and your father all whilst trying to protect his people.”

The land. The restless souls. The lifeless air. The Fogling. Was it because of him?

“That’s right,” he taunted.

Cold tears slipped down my face, my breath misting from the cold air spreading. “You used my kin?”

“For a little while. You had a cousin, the last thought to be Eldingchild left after both your uncles died. But he, too, died shortly after we took him down to Ulv Islet. Grief, apparently. Once blood went rotten, it was no worth to me. And though your father never really intended to use your mother as a breeding mare, he was forced to. When that prophecy was written, there was no doubt. He was convinced enough to have you three. We thought your brother was the Elding, he certainly had all the other Skygard traits. Noble, kind, persevering. I could swear that the wind beat at his pace, bowing at his order. There was something about that brother of yours, something I’d never seen anywhere else. Silas kept him in Ulv Islet for some time while I was healing there. Convinced that he was what we needed, but I could not smell the Elding in him like I did when we faced one another in Hanai. Imagine my surprise. Imagine his.” He wiped my tears with his knuckles and then licked the wet skin. “That day I saw you, I saw my salvation. With a little Delcour craft and what little blood from the young Elding before, we managed to locate them. Tricky part was retrieving them. Those trials were made only for you to solve.” His jaw tightened and red rage flashed in his face. “The Elder Crafters had tried to make sure I wouldn’t be able to enter them. I had to turn into this and yet, everything kept me from her. Everything!” he thundered, and I flinched.

He’d struggled to enter the temple because of the veil of fears. Like the soldier had said. My lips trembled when I asked, “What are you most afraid of, Vas?”

He pulled back a little, frowning. “What?”

I gripped his shirt to hold him still while my eyes were dead on his—the gate to a soul. May it reveal all. “Spiders. Snakes. Death. The God of Death. Fire. Heights.” His eyes glistened from the reflection of mine when I whispered, “Lightning. Denial. Hell. Separation.”

Except…the gate was open, and nobody was fucking home.

He tried to push off, but I held him tightly, the air chilling entirely. My smile slipped easily despite the tears when I leaned forward, our faces not an inch apart. “I thank you for your condor.”

Men were fools. They ought to jump in a pool of someone’s tears only to see them drown from within forgetting they were inside hellish waters, too.

He gripped my chains, making the metal dig in my skin and rub hard enough to make me bleed. “Prisoners only have dreams, princess.”

The tears would not stop, and it somehow made me laugh even harder. “Sweet, sweet dreams knowing you lay in your cold bed afraid.” And happy thoughts knowing that my father, this fool and his witch had no idea who they were holding prisoner and what they were creating after everything they revealed to me. The joke really told itself. The shadows in the mirror were laughing along. Hysterically. Hungry. So hungry.

We know, they whispered, excited.