Because what I’m looking for isn’t outside, with my mates or my bow.
It’s inside.
It’s who I am, who I’ve always been. The blood that runs through my veins. An eternal love I’ve carried since my birth.
My mother’s magic may have made Castletree, and our home may be fading. But her magic also flows through me.
This time it’s not an eruption of fire. No force or power surging through me. It is a release.
I bloom.
Human daughter of George and Anya O’Connell. Fae daughter of Queen Aurelia—the Enchantress who cursed the High Princes.
I don’t need Caspian’s briars or the Nightingale’s.
It lives in me.
I am the Golden Rose.
My magic blossoms out of me like a wind through a field of flowers. Golden briars crack through the stone, spreading across the throne room. Roses bloom along them, glittering with hope. My thorns shoot toward Kairyn, tearing at his limbs of mulch and moss.
“What is this? Get off of me!” he cries. His control slackens on the vines surrounding us.
My thorns are like an extension of me; they respond to my intentions and do my direct bidding. Thrusting my hand upward, a briar shoots skyward, tearing through the vines that ensnare us. Kel and I tumble to the ground, but he wraps me in his arms, absorbing the brunt of the fall.
He sits up with a shake of his head. “You’re right. My apology can wait.”
I stand and run, my thorns weaving beside me like sea monsters dipping in and out of the waves. With an upward thrust of my hand, my vines rip open the constraints around Ez and Caspian.
But before they tumble to the floor, I ensnare them with my own golden thorns.
“Let me go!” Ezryn screams.
But Caspian only smirks. “Clever girl.”
I shoot a hand out to the side, and my thorns engulf Keldarion. “What are you doing, Rose?” he yells.
Then I slam my palms downward. The vines descend through the earth, taking Kel, Ez, and Caspian with them. My thorns know the path because my heart knows the path.
It will always lead me home to Castletree.
I step backward to see the Sapphire Knight and the Bronze Knight running toward me.
“It’s been fun,” I say, my golden thorns wrapping around my legs. My turn to go home.
I’m fully embraced by brambles. To Castletree, I tell them. I feel the rush as I’m pulled downward—
SLAM!
Pain shoots through me like a crack of lightning. I fall to the hard ground, my thorns withering.
SLAM!
Another burst of pain. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to make sense. And then I see it.
Kairyn, his massive hammer raised, pounding my roses again and again. His divine weapon glows with light.
With his huge, gloved hands, he plucks one of my roses. It twists in his palm, losing its glimmer. Evolving into an entirely separate plant.
His heavy boots thud over to me. I clutch the stones, trying to pull myself away, but he grabs my shoulder, pushing me on to my back. He hovers over me, his helm like a descending bird of prey.
“I may have lost them, but you’re all that truly matters.” He looks down at the ground, helm lit up with a radiant gleam. “You and this bow.”
Then the new High Prince of Spring shoves his deadly flower under my nose. I inhale the sickly sweet scent. My mind turns to fog. At least Keldarion, Ezryn, and Caspian are safe.
106
Farron
The cave tunnels beneath Florendel are vast and intricate, warm from the blazing fires of the forges and the deep molten rock. We’re lucky enough to avoid any guards or goblins.
When Tilla finally opens the door that leads to a small path outside the city, the blaring sun cuts into my aching head. It must be late afternoon now. It was just past dawn when everything went hazy—I remember checking one of the strange red flowers as we followed Ezryn out of the city, and then suddenly Day was right in front of me. He came for me.
“Thank you, Tilla,” Dayton says as we step out into the light. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“What are old friends for?” She gives a wry smile. “Now to figure out where to take our people.”
I stroke my chin. “Why not lead the refugees to Winter? It’s a longer trek than Summer, but you’ll avoid that army.”
“That’s a dangerous path,” Wrenley says quietly, “and narrow. If Spring were to come after you, you’d be ambushed and trapped between mountains and ice.”
“We could make it through the mountain passages before Kairyn realizes we’re gone,” Tilla says. “Besides, his forces are currently concentrated on Summer.”