When The Last Ember Falls

Thirty-Three

Eris:

Cindra was right, this had gone on long enough. Being a fool and not telling Nesta the truth besides in my dreams. Rubbing my bottom lip with the edge of my thumb, I exhaled a few of my regrets.

I shouldn't have pushed her away. I should have fought for her sooner. I wouldn't be surprised if this is why Ronan had me relive my fears—conquer them so to speak. Perhaps he also wanted me to remember that in light there is darkness and in darkness there is light. A constant balance of the two.

Or he's just an asshole. I haven't quite figured him out yet.

Mother would have to give the grand harvest speech tonight, not that she would mind if she knew where I was heading. I held the delicate petal in my hand, thanking the stars for Cindra's patience and advice. Though I'm sure if I hadn't listened this time she would have bludgeoned me into the gravel pathway. Maybe that's why my sudden confidence sparked into fruition.

But what would I say? A long-winded speech or simple and to the point? I love you. That's all she needed to hear, all anyone really wanted to hear. I had said it dozens of times in my dreams, but face to face—it's different.

Would she be in Velaris? Or what if she wasn't in the Night Court at all? Even worse, what if the bastard was with her when I found her? Would I ask to speak with her privately or...?

"How could you?" the bewitching voice snarled from across the garden. Heavy footsteps stomping towards me with a vengeance.

I turned on my heel, stopping my call to the Night Court. "Nesta?" I asked, unable to believe it. "What are you doing here?" my eyes darted between her and Elain.

What the hell is happening? And when did Elain start shadow-jumping? I thought to myself, catching the coils of shadows around her fingertips. Her milky eyes staring directly at me, she waved her hand as a hello.

Nesta raised her trembling hand, displaying a parchment written in crimson ink with a red maple leaf stamped into the copper wax. "Why would you do this? And, and to me of all people?" she snapped, drops of amber trickling down her face. The parchment had holes sporadically burned into it. More tears, I assumed.

Elain sunk into the waiting shadows, giving me a look that wished me the best. I'm sure she was returning back to the Night Court, anything to avoid Nesta's wrath.

My forehead puckered as she shoved the letter into my hands. I couldn't look away from her, was this real? Was this another dream?

Nesta bared her teeth, her fists clenching as if she would sock me in the face. "You asked me—you, you begged me not to give up my life in Ferron's dungeon," her breathing heavy; staring me down as if she would rip me apart herself. Her anger dissolved, patches of red crawled up her neck as she hunted for the truth. Nesta croaked, "and yet you would choose death over me?"

I could see every broken piece within, like they were calling to me, embers nearly going out. I hesitantly pulled my eyes away to skim through the letter. The handwriting was similar to mine. "I didn't send this," I told her but the look in her eyes made me think she didn't believe me. "Nesta, this isn't—"

The gates to the garden shattered into a million splinters and bits of iron. A crowd of unfamiliar warriors raced towards us with a range of weapons. Several took their branches of fire to the magnolias, shouting orders as the trees began to burn. Archers reached for their arrows—one in particular moving faster than the others.

I grabbed Nesta's arm, winnowing us back to her room before the steel tips shot into us.

"I thought..." she stopped speaking, covering her mouth as if she'd be sick.

I raised my rough palm to her cheek, grazing my fingers against her flushed skin, "even in death, I fought to come back—I heard you. Why would I leave you now?" I inhaled her scent, noticing that it was slightly off, maybe that was because the orchard of magnolias was currently burning to ash.

Nesta's head tilted with questions, her trembling hand finding mine, pressing me closer to her cheek.

"You must know," I whispered, scared that she would reject me before I could even say the words. "Nesta, I—"

Horrendous screams distracted us. I glared out the balcony window, at the burning buildings. The surrounding villages were being attacked again, crowds running through the streets and fields to make their escape.

My mother, Cindra and Mikayl were somewhere in the castle. "I need to get my mother to safety, do not open this door for anyone. If someone winnows in here that isn't me, kill them." I rested my hands on her shoulders, staring into her ocean eyes, "do you understand?"

"Yes," she nodded, pulling her cloak close as if she were cold.

"I will be back," I promised, kissing her forehead before winnowing away.

I knew she would be safe, no one would risk dying by a Gryphon's talons or jaws. Flying through the halls, I saw my guards battling the intruders. No sign of my mother or Cindra.

The reception hall. That's where my mother would have been, attending to the last-minute details of the festival. I winnowed into the middle of chaos, fighting those I could as I searched for them. Blood smeared against the walls, bodies lying over tables and benches.

If she wasn't here then perhaps the throne room. My heart thundered as my mouth went dry. The room was pitch black, no sign of anyone. Odd, to say the least. My palm illuminated, revealing the empty dais. I walked in circles, not seeing any signs of life.

Where else could they...?

Something cold and heavy knocked me to the ground. An ancient ice burning into my flesh as I struggled to get up, to ignite. I roared as the intruders wrapped me in faebane. Kicking and bucking to no avail. It only made things worse. With little light, I couldn't see who held me down, only that a massive fist flung towards me.

I heard the snap of my nose, felt the rush of blood down my lips before fading in the dark.