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“No. I will send reinforcements to guard the villages. I refuse to cower before General Slaugh. He will pay for what he and his Shadow have done to my daughter, and to my people.”
“But—”
“No buts. This matter is closed.” Lord Oren picked up a piece of parchment from his desk. “I received a letter from Lord Prentis offering to form an alliance against House Ithir, and I am going to accept. Between the might of our combined Houses, we will show Lady Mossi and her nephew that we are not to be trifled with.”
“Good.” Ryker’s eyes gleamed. “I am happy to join the cause, Father.”
“You will do no such thing,” Oren snarled. “Unless and until Tempest is cured, you are my only heir. You will remain here at Angtun, and keep things running here.”
“And what about me?” Leap asked. He hoped his uncle would let him go so he could find another way to stop Nox. Maybe he could travel to the water realm and convince Lord Prentis to back down. Or find Einar and see if the two of them could take another crack at rescuing Mavlyn.
To Leap’s great surprise, Lord Oren smiled. “You will join the Lightning Guard as a cadet officer.”
“A cadet officer?” Leap said in a strangled voice. Panic rose up inside him, and he struggled not to choke on it. “But I’m not of age!”
“Correct,” his uncle said, “but your unique position and your knowledge and experience with the enemy is more than enough to make up for that. You’ll be assigned a squad of four, subordinate only to me, to use as you see fit either in the battle against Nox or to assist Adara when she returns.” He nodded toward the door. “Now go get some rest. Your first day begins tomorrow.”
37
Mavlyn
For the next three days after meeting with the Mother of Shadows, Mavlyn was consumed by endless suffering. The darkness Nox had infected her with tried to take over her mind, attacking her relentlessly with horrific visions of black-eyed demons that scraped her insides raw with their vicious teeth and claws. Mavlyn knew what they wanted—for her to give into the pain, to succumb, to let the darkness numb her so it could take over her body and make her do Nox’s bidding.
She thought of her friends—of Adara, navigating a strange new world and trying to convince fae-hating dragons to help her. Of Einar, who was all alone in the Deadlands, waiting for her to return. Of Leap, who had to be worried out of his mind, and of Quye, who was counting on her to keep Nox at bay until Adara could return. They were the only reason she kept fighting, kept getting back up every time the horrors in her mind tried to knock her down.
But her strength flagged with every blow she absorbed, and as the days passed, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
Hiding behind a gnarled, blackened tree, she watched the hulking monster that stalked through her mind, searching for her so it could tear its claws through her gut once more. Retreating, she wished desperately for a place to hide where they could not follow. A sacred haven in her mind where dark thoughts and entities could not tread, and where she could lay her head and rest.
Something flickered in her peripheral vision, and she turned to see a path snaking between the blackened trees. It glowed faintly, and she took a hesitant step toward it, worried that she would be spotted. When the creature didn’t immediately notice, she crouched low and took another, then another, hope rising in her chest when the path began to glow a little brighter.
A roar echoed through the dark forest behind her, and she picked up the pace, abandoning her pretense at stealth. Her breath sawed in her chest as she pumped her legs, gooseflesh rippling across her skin as shrieks of rage ripped through the air. But the path grew brighter, a light appearing ahead, and she seized on that vision of hope, clinging to it like her life depended upon it. She refused to look at the multitude of eyes upon her, refused to turn even as she felt hot, fetid breath on the back of her neck. Refused to do anything but run, run, as fast as she could toward that light.
Claws slashed at her back, and Mavlyn cried out as white-hot pain burst along her spine. With one last ditch effort, she flung herself forward, across an invisible threshold and into the light… and found herself stumbling into a verdant grove filled with sunlight.
Panting, Mavlyn stared at her surroundings, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. A ring of ancient trees surrounded her, and though she could see the dark forest lurking beyond, the shadows could not penetrate into this space. A small pond filled with fresh water sat in the middle of the grove, a flat rock perfect for sunbathing laying right next to it. Golden-feathered birds nested in the boughs of the trees, serenading her with a gentle melody that soothed the ragged edges of her abused soul.
Warily, Mavlyn lowered herself onto the rock, watching the gaps beneath the trees in case any monster tried to come through. But though she occasionally saw something shifting beyond the grove, nothing tried to follow her through. She couldn’t even hear the shrieks and growls from before, even though they’d filled her ears only a few heartbeats ago.
The sound of a door clanging jerked her attention back to the present, and she opened her eyes to see two guards marching into her cell. “Get up,” one of them snapped, grabbing her roughly by the arm. “It’s time to take you to the trial.”
The guards hauled her out of the cell, and though Mavlyn was still unable to speak, she no longer felt trapped in her mind. Instead, she felt safe, protected, as if she were still in that grove she’d discovered in her dreams. She wrapped that feeling around her as the guards marched her out of the castle and loaded her up into a prison wagon. Five other prisoners were chained to the benches inside, all in various states of distress. But Mavlyn couldn’t feel any of it, even when the wagon came to a stop outside the city plaza, which was already packed with fae.
“How are you so calm?” one of the other prisoners whispered as they disembarked. “Don’t you know what’s about to happen?”
“I don’t think she’s all there,” another prisoner muttered. “Look at how her eyes are unfocused.”
“Lucky bitch,” someone else grumbled. “Wish I could do that.”
Mavlyn wished she could speak, that she could tell them that shewasstill present and aware. But really, what good would that do? The guards herded them to the left of the stage that had been set up toward the back of the square, where Lady Mossi was already waiting, seated upon a grand throne in the middle of the platform. To her right was Nox, and on her left, Mavlyn recognized Avani, one of the hostages that had covered their escape from Castle Kaipei. Pity welled within her as she realized Avani was being held by the same shadow taint Nox had infected her mind with. She wondered if Avani had been able to retreat the same way Mavlyn had, but the thought evaporated as she faced the crowd and found her parents watching her, their faces stricken with anguish.
“Mavlyn!” they shouted, waving frantically at her. “Mavlyn, be strong, baby! We’re here for you!”
Mavlyn tried to smile, to wave back, to make words come out of her mouth. But even from within the safety of the grove in her mind, the shadow geas Nox had set upon her held fast. She would not be able to speak unless the Mother of Shadows spoke to her first.
Mavlyn watched as the other prisoners were brought up, one by one, to face trial and sentencing. The city barrister informed the audience of their names and the crimes they were accused of, and each prisoner was allowed to come forward and defend themselves. One or two of them had hired a barrister to defend them on their behalf, but most were too poor to afford it. Some of these people were genuine criminals—thieves, fraudsters, and con artists—but others seemed to be regular citizens, accused of petty things like loitering, disturbing the peace, and even trespassing. Mavlyn didn’t understand why Lady Mossi was hearing such minor cases. Didn’t she have anything better to do?
When it was finally Mavlyn’s turn, she walked up the steps, still wrapped in the blanket of serenity she’d draped around herself. Looking out across the crowd, her heart lurched as she noticed groups of students scattered throughout the crowd and along the edges of the square. They all held anti-war protest signs, their identities hidden by clay masks painted with lotus flowers, olive branches, and other symbols of peace. What were they doing here? Didn’t they realize the risk they were putting themselves at, showing up while she was on trial?
