Page 43 of Keldori By Daybreak

A purple flame sprang forth in Orla’s hand.

“Purple?” His jaw slackened in shock, and his gaze wavered. By the look on his face, it was apparent Ferrin hadn’t told his nephew about Orla’s true heritage.

“Ferrin was trying to release the Frozen God. He needed to kill Oren Quill to do it, so he did, and he killed our mother, too, when she tried to stop him. And then he was going to kill me because he found out Oren was my real father.” Orla let the purple fire die and stepped closer to her brother. “Did he tell you all that?”

Cade remained silent, his dagger still burning dangerously close to Tiernan’s throat.

“He isn’t who you think he is,” Orla continued. “But we can stop him. We’re going to refreeze the Frozen God.”

“But the storm—”

“Doesn’t matter. We can reach the Saergrim from Keldori, but we need a Lyrian to show us how to get there without crossing the Rift.”

“Lady Quill.” Ciarán hissed a low warning.

“We can trust him.” Orla held a staying hand out towards Ciarán but kept her eyes on Cade. “We can trust you.”

Cade’s tight frown loosened into something defeated, and his dagger sputtered into steam.

Tiernan fell forward into Orla’s arms.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Cade pressed against the door at his back. “If that’s all true, Orla, you need to run.”

“We need Iseult. The Lyrian who arrived here with us a few weeks ago. Uncle is trying to force his way into Keldori. We need Iseult if we want to stop him.”

“Stop him?” Cade looked between us—a prisoner who couldn’t stand on his own, a Grimguard suffering from altitude sickness, a blue-haired Nightmare, and Orla.

He was right to tell us to run.

“He’s going to hurt people,” Orla pleaded. “We can’t do nothing, not when there is a way forward.”

“Right.” Cade blinked several times in rapid succession. “Right, Orla, I’m—it’s a lot, okay?”

“I know,” she said through a breathy laugh. “I promise I know.”

Cade shuffled between us to reach the wardrobe next to his desk. The wooden doors creaked on their hinges when he threw it open.

“The Lyrian girl has been helping keep watch at the main entryway during the night shifts. I’m assuming you snuck in, otherwise you would’ve seen her when you entered.” Cade pulled a fresh tunic, boots, and cloak from the wardrobe. “I’m a bit taller than your friend, but it’s better than nothing.”

“What’s this?” Tiernan grunted as Cade passed the clothing his way.

“You can’t travel to Keldori in those clothes. Consider it an apology for holding you at knifepoint.” He gave an awkward chuckle that sounded just like Orla’s laugh.

“Thank you.” Orla wrapped her arms around Cade, and he patted her back.

“It’s fine.” He patted her back. “But you really shouldn’t be here.”

“I know. I just—” She let go and straightened up. “I love you, Cade.”

“Of course, Orla. Be quick. Stay safe.”

Orla pecked her brother on his cheek, and he kept his eyes down as she helped Tiernan back into the hall. Ciarán made a point to leave the room last, and as soon as the door clunked shut behind us, he was in my head.

“It’s a trap.”

“Calm down,” I growled back.

“There weren’t any other cloaks in his wardrobe. Why would he give away his only cloak if he doesn’t intend to immediately recoup it?”