“To be honest, I thought you’d hate me.”
“Kal forgave you. That’s good enough for me.”
I glanced at the others. Toryn nodded. Niamh did, too, and said, “Don’t you worry about us, gem thief.”
My lips curled. I hadn’t realized, until then, just how badly I’d wanted them to forgive me, too. They had every right to hate me. I’d tried to kill their king. Their friend. But they’d gone a step further than that. They’d come all the way here, fighting the monsters in the mists, just to get me away from Oberon’s eternal vow.
I turned back to Kalen, fighting the tears in my eyes. He was here. It still didn’t feel real.
“And yet it seems we’re too late.” His sapphire eyes gleamed. “Because you saved yourself.”
“I’m still very glad you’ve come.” I smiled, and he smiled right back. My cheeks ached from the unfamiliar expression.
I wanted to leap into his arms again and stay tucked up against his chest for a good, long while, but now that I knew we had an audience, I held back. From behind me, several pairs of footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor. Kalen’s eyes flicked up and widened, and then he pulled his sword from the dirt.
My mother stepped up beside me, heaving an axe into the air. “Get away from my daughter.”
Twenty
Morgan
The shadows of the flames danced along the cavern walls to a tune that only they could hear. I held my palms before them, failing to rid my body of the chill that had settled into my bones. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be cold. The eversun had baked our world for centuries. The heat of it never subsided. Now the mists were here, chasing away the warmth.
Of course,herewas beyond the border of the Kingdom of Light, anyway. Beyond the realms of even Aesir. Oberon had ordered us to hike up the mountains on the western side of Albyria. We were technically inside the free territories, and no one wanted to live in these cold, dark cliffs.
I glanced over my shoulder at where he was propped up against the cavern wall, his face pockmarked from the burns he’d sustained during the ball. I’d watched the entire thing happen, though I still didn’t understand it. Tessa had revealed Oberon’s lack of powers to the court. He’d retaliated somehow, but the flames had consumed him as well as everything else. For the first time in his life, his own flames had wounded him.
He’d curled his finger at me, beckoning me closer during the chaos.
“I order you to take me and my wife to our cave,” he’d commanded.
The power of our vow had ripped through my soul, and I’d had no other choice. I’d sneaked him out of the Great Hall before anyone noticed. We’d gone through the hidden gate on the back side of the city. He’d stumbled along then, hardly breathing. And then I’d carried him when he could no longer walk. Now here we were.
His wife curled up beside him, her head on his lap. Queen Hannah, our Mortal Queen. She barely spoke these days.
Oberon’s eyelids fluttered open, and he caught me staring at him. A shiver of power rippled across his horns. “Morgan, I order you to bring some food to me and my wife.”
I let out a long-suffering sigh. I’d grabbed my leather pack on our way out of the city, but it didn’t have enough inside for three people. Years ago, I’d decided to get prepared for any eventuality, just in case I ever got free of my vow to him. So, I’d made myself an emergency bag. It held everything I would need for a week spent in the wild. Provisions for my escape from Oberon. Now the king managed to worm his way into that, too.
Oberon had taken everything from me.
I pulled out dried shadowfiend meat I’d wrapped in paper. Every now and then, Oberon had ordered me to hunt in the chasm. I’d saved some of the extra meat over the years, and he’d never noticed. Or, if he had, he’d never said anything about it. I took out three pieces and returned the rest to my pack.
Oberon scowled at me when I handed him the two rations.
“This is not enough food. I need more so I can heal.” He glared up at me, blueish-purple bruises around his ember eyes. The air rattled in his lungs as he breathed, and his hand trembled as he lifted the meat to his lips. I’d never seen him this weak before. I was surprised he let me see him like this now, though I was his only option for survival. If it weren’t for me, he’d be dead.
That thought did not settle well in my gut. This was the closest Oberon had ever come to dying. The world could be rid of him.Icould be rid of him. And yet he carried on, because I was forced to cater to his every whim. Eventually, he would heal from this. He was like a festering magical wound. No matter how much ointment or fae healing you poured into it, it persisted.
He was my scar.
He curled his lips at me. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“That you underestimated Tessa Baran again?”
“Quite the opposite. She failed. Again. I always win when it comes to her.” Oberon popped the meat into his mouth, but then coughed, his lungs still full of smoke.
“This doesn’t look like a win to me.”