Page 30 of The Reaping Rose

Greer frowns. “How do we find a graveyard that’s not marked?”

“Just because the graves aren’t marked doesn’t mean the graveyard isn’t.” Letia reaches for her cloak, throwing it over her shoulders. The white fur hugs her cheeks, covering her golden hair. “I have some ideas of where it might be.”

Letia takes the lead with the determination of the girl she was before she lost her family. Villagers ignore us as we pass through town and venture out into the forest.

The wind howls through the trees, and it’s a strange comfort to be back in this fragile place. Where the ground beneath our feet could give at any moment. The sky could break open and decide we’ve lived enough. Unlike in the Ley Court, Alyssium has been on the brink of destruction for centuries. Every moment could be the last.

Fae look down on human lifespans because they don’t understand the urgency of being mortal. They don’t see how every second is important when they’re limited to so few. In my century here, life and death cycled more than once. I saw just how precious things are when they are temporary.

Letia leads the way, shivering. My fingers stretch, momentarily forgetting how deep my magic slumbers, so I can’t cast a shell around her to hold back the elements and keep her warm.

And yet, at a distance, the sword pulses. A reminder that we’re running out of time. I hope Letia is right; I hope Elorie finds her way out. Or may the gods help us all.

Chapter 11

Elorie

Idunn’s steely eyes glow as the ground quakes beneath our feet.

“The realms are dying,” I tell her as a shudder racks my spine. “That’s what this is. They collided nearly three centuries ago, and now, they’re falling apart.”

“Yet you’re here.” Her head angles in assessment.

“I thought—” My throat tightens, and I pull my shoulders back. “I thought if I could better understand my magic—my bloodline—I could help.”

“Help do what?”

“Save the realm.”

An unsettling smile grows on her face. “You were outcast for so long, yet you wish to save the creatures who set you aside all those years when they thought you invaluable.”

“It’s not all their fault.”

“Ah, my daughter is a dreamer. Believing in the innocence of others.” Idunn paces her cell, not the least bit rattled as the realm shivers. “They would not do the same for you.”

“I don’t care. I have the magic to help, and I’m not going to sit by and not use it.”

Her eyes narrow, sliding to me. “What makes you think you can help?”

My fingers wring together behind my back. “The king. He said I wield the magic from the heart of the realm.”

“The magic of Voilene?”

I nod. “How did you know that?”

“That is what is at the heart of this realm. The magic of creation.” Her gaze drifts.

“He believes my magic is strong enough to heal what’s broken.” Not that healing the realm was how he intended to use it in the end. He wanted my magic to erase. To start over. Malachi wanted to be something greater than savior or king.

He wants to be a god.

I don’t share any of that with Idunn.

“Why didn’t you do as the king asked?” Idunn’s tone is dismissive. Irritated even.

“Things aren’t that simple anymore. The magic between Lyrichia and Vaelier is muddled. And then the orb⁠—”

“The orb.” In a blink, Idunn moves from one end of the cell to the other, her palm pressing the barrier. Her skin flattens as if she’s touching invisible glass.