Kel takes my position beside Caspian, keeping the horde from getting too close.
“Rosalina.” Ezryn’s voice is rattling. Hoarse.
Tears brim in my eyes. “You’re all right.”
“You are not.” Deep anger tinges his words. He quickly pulls off his gloves and puts one hand on my neck and the other on my scratched arm. Immediately, warmth passes through as my wounds fade away.
The shallowness of his breath, his shaking fingers … Whatever those nightmare flowers did, it left him weak, and now he’s using the last of his magic to heal me. “I’m all right.” I pull away. “Really.”
“Halt. All of you,” a female voice says. My blood goes cold.
The Dreadknights and the goblins obey immediately. The four of us gather in a tight cluster, the princes all pushing me to the center. I strain to look through their tall forms. There’s a sea of Dreadknights and goblins stretching so far, I can’t see the end of it. And she brought them all here to kill one High Prince.
Might have succeeded if Keldarion and Caspian hadn’t shown up.
Might still succeed.
The crowd parts as the Nightingale prowls forward. A chunk of her armor is shattered, the edges crusted with ice, leaving her shoulder exposed. And there’s the slightest limp in her gait, another patch of frost around her thigh.
Though I can’t say it leaves her any less deadly.
But it’s Caspian’s gaze she fixes on, and trilling laughter echoes off her armor. “I suppose they don’t call you the Great Betrayer for nothing. Won’t be the favorite after Mother hears of this, will you, brother?”
Brother. So, this is Caspian’s sister, the one he told me about months ago in the Autumn Realm. But he doesn’t seem inclined to answer her.
“Farron is close,” I whisper.
“Even with him, there’s still too many,” Keldarion growls, reaching for his necklace. “I will not risk you. We have to retreat.”
The Nightingale hisses like a cat. “Going to run away with your new family?”
“No.” Caspian straightens. “They aren’t my family.”
He steps in front of us, violet cape catching in the night wind, and twists a palm to the sky. “But let me remind you who is.”
From his hand sprouts a green flame.
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Caspian
Sickening green flames glow along my fingertips, and I see the flash of fear in Birdy’s eyes. That’s right, sister dear, I think. You’ve heard the rumors but never seen it, have you?
“Cas—” Keldarion grabs my shoulder, and the flames flicker out. “Are you sure about this? Last time…”
Bloody giant arrogant idiot! Always having to ruin my moment. There’s fear flashing in his eyes, too, but it’s not the same as my sister’s. Could this be fear for me? He’s not afraid for Rosalina. Perhaps somewhere deep inside his cold heart, he knows that I’d never let anything happen to her.
“Last time,” I snap, brushing his hand off my shoulder, “I granted your uncle his life’s purpose. He should thank me, honestly.”
Besides, I’m much more in control now. Grief, betrayal, anger … Those emotions caused more of an explosion. An explosion that caused a fissure to the deepest depths of the Below.
This is different. Protection. Rosalina watches me with that curious expression. Yes, this is easier to channel.
But I’d be lying if reaching for this all-consuming power again wasn’t just a tinge frightening.
“Take your legion through the portal and leave,” I tell my sister.
The Nightingale narrows her blue eyes. “Never.”
Rolling my shoulders, I smirk. “Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d say that.”
I don’t reach for my gift of thorns or the shadows my mother passed down. No. There’s another legacy deep inside. Lying in wait. Hissing in my ear every day to bring it forth.
And every day I say no.
But not today.
I let the flames in. Power floods through my body, and every movement I make crackles with cosmic energy.
Energy not of this world.
Light floods my vision, and he appears in a flash. Grand and imposing, sitting on a massive throne with a sword of green flame and eyes the same color.
Oh, hello Father. Don’t mind me, just going to use this corrosive magic to save the one fae who might have a chance at stopping you from ever making it into the Vale.
I quickly douse the thought, uneasy about how much it feels like he’s a part of me when I let this power in. Or rather, when I give in to the power that’s always inside of me. It’s only when I let it out, when I use it, that he can truly see me.