Page 71 of Where We Belong

“Aiden,” Eira whispers. He looks at her, bewildered.

“I—I cannot.”

Summer’s voice tightens. “Your tag, Captain. Your ring, Chef. The chain at your waist, Ironwright. And your bracelet, Princess.”

I stare at my wrist, at the delicate band I don’t even remember putting on. As my fingers close around the clasp, they plead with us urgently, voices layered with chants and certainty, promising that this is the only way. But I can’t get it off, none of us can, even though there’s no physical resistance at all. The struggle is in our minds. It’s like trying to rip something out of your own chest.

“Just take it off me!” Eira shrieks, clawing uselessly at the thin chain around her waist. Summer draws a thin blade and slashes clean through the metal. The moment it breaks, Eira collapses to the floor, screaming, clutching her head as if something inside it is tearing itself apart. Aiden drops to his knees beside her.

“Eira—?”

“Take it off,” she gasps. “Take it off, Aiden. Please. Do it for me.” He freezes, eyes wide, caught between two halves of himself.

“No,” he forces out.

“Then let me,” she says hoarsely, reaching up with trembling hands. He doesn’t take his eyes off hers when he dips his head slowly. She rips it from his head and he folds forward, clutching her as she clings to him.

Kaed, Cook, and I stare at each other with wide eyes. Cook swallows and holds out his shaking hand to me. I grab his ring and pull. When it slides free he staggers backward like he’s been struck, sliding down the wall, breathing in sharp, broken gasps. My heart hammers. I drop the ring like it’s made of acid as the sudden urge to march straight to the kitchen stores stamps its way through my mind. Kaed grips my bracelet, I grab his tag, and we pull at the same time. I throw his tag away, along with the pulsing thoughts of duty, restraint, and loyalty. Kaed stifles a grunt and drops to one knee. I pull him against me as he falls, his body heavy and trembling in my arms. He’s so warm it feels impossible; his bare skin pressed everywhere against mine while he clings to me like I’m the only thing that’s real. His arms wrap around me so tight; it almost knocks the breath out of me. The raging inferno of his wings breaks into spluttering, fading bursts. My teeth chatter and my throat tightens as something small and spiky scurries out of my mind. It hurts like hell, but I’m nowhere near as undone as the others.

Mari and Summer mutter spells over the discarded metals that leap up into the air, smashing against the protection orbs around them, before skittering across the stone as if running from them. Faint whispers and hoarse screams come from the items with each blast of magic. Summer hisses in pain and rubs her temple. “It fights. The crown is strong. So terribly strong.”

“What’s happening?” I ask, looking around in panic at the crumpled forms of my friends.

“King Aeron’s mind magic is not foresight,” Summer says. “He plants thoughts. Which can be manipulated to look like foresight.” The room is silent. Not even a breath.

“We suspected something for many years. How could foresight be a branch of Feye’s magic? He is the great In-between. Foresight would have to be a gift from Future God.” Hunah continues, “but we could never get close enough to prove it. After the Princess arrived, he came bearing gifts in a panic. Chalices, jewellery, armour.” Eira gasps softly. As if it’s her fault. “We instructed a new recruit to place them in our chambers. She accidentally brought them here. To the room of Feye’s First Breath.” Her eyes linger on the ceiling. “When they entered this space, they whispered.”

“Whispered what?” I ask through gritted teeth, trying to blink away the ache behind my eyes.

“The thoughts he imbued on the metal. How good he is. How wise. How kind and great.” Hunah continues.

“Telling us to destroy the evidence of the ritual.” Xalan shakes his head. “Goading us into peace and submission. Remaining here, imprisoned forever.”

Eira bites her nail, eyes darting, and Summer gives her a sad, knowing smile. “You already knew.”

“I—it’s complicated.” She glances at Kaed. “Nyk — he tried to tell me. Over and over.”

Hunah turns sharply to Summer. “This Nyk they speak of. Your friend, the priestess. Is it her boy?”

“Yes.” Kaed answers before Summer can. The grit in his voice does not match the way his body shakes as he drags himself upright. “Nykholas, son of Amun. What do you know?”

Summer’s jaw tightens as she adjusts the beads at her hips. “Prince Aiden disclosed to the King that you had ignited the bond, Captain. Aeron was curious why Nykholas withheld the information. Just before the bonding ceremony, he used the cursed waters of our beloved Barkus to coerce Nykholas into revealing what he knew. Which was everything. When we arrived at the bonding ceremony, our soldiers scoured the palace for him. But he was nowhere to be seen.”

Kaed’s eyes narrow. “And how do you know all this?”

Summer’s voice trembles slightly. “I helped Nyk escape his family many years ago and enter the palace. Once we realised what Aeron was up to, I tried to warn him. So many times. He didn’t believe me at first, of course, his thoughts warped into trusting only in the King. But eventually, he removed a piece of jewellery Aeron had gifted him. A ring.” Her breath falters. “I cannot bear that I am the reason for his death.”

Eira’s composure shatters. “Nyk is not dead. The King promised he’d free him when we return.”

“Dear child,” Mari says softly, “Aeron is not counting on your return. Your boy, Jace, we removed his earring and heard the whispered commands. Not to leave without making sure you are all dead. And if he gets caught, he must blame Nykholas. Aeron may already have taken Nykholas’s life and set things in motion to blame us for your deaths. A tidy end indeed. We will contact our spies to confirm.”

Eira breaks and a tear slips down Summer’s cheek as she clicks her fingers, then attaches a scribbled note to a Pyreling.

“He poisoned me at the wedding?” I remember how he offered me the drink. So easily. So casually. Turning his back on me and expecting me to die. Tears sting my eyes, but I won’t cry for this. For him.

“Yes,” Xalan says. And though I already knew, my heart sinks a little more. “Then used something similar in the arrows. We do not know what the poison contains, but now we have them in our possession, they shall be studied. We suspect this is why your wounds are not healing. We have already begun to brew you an elixir to help with them.” I instinctively touch my burn and glance over to Aiden.

His legs are crossed, hands slack in his lap. Summer clicks her fingers, the protective shield around them dissipating. She lowers herself beside him, resting a careful hand on his bare arm, murmuring something, but he just stares at the ground.