Page 216 of Season Warriors & Wolves

I took another loud sip from my tea. “Hm.” Didn’t need the remainder, my head was still pounding from Visha’s craft.

He kept carving the small wooden piece in his hand. “To collect her essence, I presume. I’ve got no other answer why you would subject yourself to the pain.”

I slowly nodded, trying to finish my tea.

“You found her weakness, her flaw?”

Leaning back, I sighed. “I did. Found mine as well. And death’s. Fate’s. I have found out much.”

His knife stopped carving and he finally looked at me. “You think you can escape what you were shown by a reaper of death?”

“Escaping would require running and hiding. Do you see me running or hiding?”

He went silent, his eyes thinning. When he opened his mouth to speak, I asked, “Tell me, master of chaos, what would happen upon the death of a guardian like Aurora?”

Macaria had told me all about it after we returned from the caves, but a second opinion was always good.

His serpent eyes thinned. “Pure chaos,” he replied. “The balance of magic would tip the realm into destruction. The way mine lacked it, yours will be overwhelmed with it. Drowned and then deformed.” His eyes spun like a dark abyss, flashing with quick images. “Burning cold ice would come first, then the sun would rain down fire. The skies would collapse. Earth would sink.” Finally, his eyes went back to normal and he relaxed back onto the tree stump. “And more like it. She’s made of flames, forged from the purity of white fire. There is a reason why such chaos is locked into someone—to make it controllable. If the vessel holding it dies, it will set loose.”

If I'd learned one thing from all this, it was that nothing happened to me without cause. The child I’d seen through the portal was no coincidence. The visions she’d shown me either. Why the damned hells it had taken me so long to figure it out was a question for the books.

A warning.

All was a warning of what would happen if I killed Aurora.

Guardians had an essence, according to what Nia had read. Some were made to ruin and others made to heal. Like Meira, Nubil’s old lover. The land had accepted her gift to heal after she’d died. Nia had read that the guardian had been born out of a child’s laughter, another form of pure chaos. Just a chaos that was not destructive like Aurora’s.

“And mine? What would happen if I died?”

“You know, don’t you?”

I looked over at the zgahna, over where my ancestors’ power lay and remained after years and decades. “I do.”

Protect.

Chapter forty-three

White Queen to E3

Kilian

Whatever hangover lingered over our people from the night before had disappeared before dawn. Every face I passed through our camps was hardened with deep concentration. They’d all seen Snow last night. It had for some reason steeled them harder, especially her people. There was no forgiveness in their eyes. No doubt either.

Tristin landed right in front of me before I got to enter the tent where my wife had chosen to spend solitude. She breathed hard. “Silas’s creatures have just left the cities and are marching toward our and Moriko’s borders.”

“The guardian?”

“Nowhere to be seen, my king. Crafters are saying they cannot feel her presence anywhere near us.”

“Because she is not,” Visha said, walking out of a tent along with Penelope hot on her feet. “It means Silas has not given her command yet, her state is still dormant. He could be scared to let her free from the sceptre for longer than necessary, like Kegan.”

“Where is Snow?” Tristin asked. “The men should see her before they march towards Isjord.”

“Brooding,” Cai said, buttoning up his grey leathers. “She gets to slay Silas’s dreams. She’s taking this extremely well. Any news from Mal and Elias?”

“They are inside Tenebrose along with Golgotha,” Visha explained.

He laughed. “Bet Golgotha’s scent is driving the witches mad.”