Page 308 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“Why, is the question,” Lana said, slowly turning back as the center of the archway lit up.

“Because he’s The Commander.”

“Not of Bellpost,” I whispered, afraid to change her mind. But Rhiannon had made her choice—the portal now humming. Pressure built inside my head, and my spine stiffened as a melodic voice pressed into it.

Your blood is his blood.

Who? I asked, glancing at the others and finding them transfixed on the portal.

The golden one.

I shook my head. I don’t know who you speak of.

Panic tore me between my people and the voice as Lana drawled, “Nice knowing you, folks.”

“Not funny,” Jason grumbled.

“A little funny,” Lana said flatly.

Will she be safe? I asked the being—pretty certain a shadow-wielding queen was pressing through my shields.

Her intentions are pure.

That wasn’t exactly an answer, but Lana took three steady steps forward, eyeing the runes surrounding her gate out. I backed up in equal measure, exhaling slowly and praying our intentions were the only price of passage.

“Get to August and Freya. Get him to Ally and bring her home. Stay alive.” My last order for the foreseeable future. Lana nodded, and without hesitating, strode forward into the silvery glow.

“Aren,” she breathed, barely glancing over her shoulder to catch my eyes. “Godspeed.”

Smiling tightly, I nodded, aware my voice had snagged on something intangible in my throat. “Godspeed. Show them why you earned the title of Grayshell’s Assassin.”

Lana didn’t smile. She just dipped her chin and vanished into the portal light.

She is returned, the voice hissed into my mind, a touch of urgency turning the tone harsh. Remove the dark one from my presence. We will not tolerate her any longer.

I jerked my gaze toward Magnolia, where she was already looking to me for direction, trust in those aqua eyes. Magnolia? I pressed. She’s pure of heart. When the voice said nothing, I prodded, Why protect us?

Go, kin of the golden one. Before her sickness spreads.

Sickness? I demanded, snatching her hand in mine and searching for an exit. The plants around us hissed over stone, reaching eagerly.

One of his.

Whose?

The dark one.

But who is that? And if you fear her⁠—

We fear nothing.

—why protect her?

She fights her true nature. She fights it for you. And she carries his magic—my chosen one.

Adrastos? I deduced.

Of his own vow, she has been marked ours.