“You gave me one. Isn’t that enough?”
Everything in me wants to respond to Ky’s voice. But I can’t. Not now. Maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way. Maybe the best thing for me is to let Ky go.
“Em, no.”
After giving Stormy’s hand an extended squeeze, I release her, guard my flame with a cupped palm, and free my right hand. I lace my fingers with Joshua’s, hold fast to the tangible. The real.
Joshua pulls away.
My spirit droops.
But then his arm slips around my waist, fingers sliding through the space between my arm and midsection. He draws me into his side.
Sigh. We’re going to be fine. I inhale his Thanksgiving dessert scent, press my cheek to his life-filled chest. Our voices become one as we continue the ballad in Kuna’s honor—Joshua singing the lyrics, and me “ah-ing” the repetitive melody. My throat burns and my song is off-key, but I press on.
“The Void holds no power,
A soul it cannot own.
Though it may seem night has won the hour,
It is the day we live to storm,
Until the battered no longer—”
A sound like thunder. A deafening shriek. A collective gasp. All seem to happen at once.
Voices cease midlyric, stalked by an unnatural quiet.
My head jerks around. My gut bottoms out. The earth shakes.
Someone has fallen through the ice.
TEN
Joshua
Iron brushes leather as swords emerge from sheaths. Firearm after firearm is cocked. Bows are brandished and arrows are drawn. All attendees, save the Guardians, retreat from the ice’s rim and creep toward the trees. I draw Eliyana into my side, tightening my grip around the one I can’t bear to lose. She may be queen, the vessel of the Verity even, yet to me, she remains fragile as ever. Someone breakable and delicate and all too good to be true. El is mine, and with my Ever blood failing I refuse to risk her enduring so much as a scrape. Her pain will always belong to me, regardless of whether our connection heals her or not.
I hone my focus and glance south. Wren Song stands two longsword lengths away. Her arms are folded over her chest and her gaze penetrates mine. I grunt beneath my breath. She doesn’t need to speak. I know she believes this is related to El.
And perhaps she’s right. I drop my candle and the flame snuffs out. I comb my fingers through my hair and run my palm over my face. Have I been ignoring what’s right in front of me? I haven’t had an opportunity to go to Nathaniel as of yet, but I can’t put it off any longer. I will see him tonight. But first I must get everyone to safety, El to safety.
I scan the frozen Threshold. Aha! There. About three yards east—an opening in the ice. I squint. An opening, yes, but nothing more. No flailing arms, gurgles, or screams.
“El.” I grip her arm, though I keep my eyes trained on the Threshold. “Take Stormy, follow Preacher, and lead the guests back to the castle. Everyone will be safest there. Reggie and the kitchen staff already have food prepared. Preacher will inform the Guardians on perimeter duty of the situation.”
She looks around, eyes wide. But it isn’t fear I detect there, it’s awareness. She is so different from the timid girl I met over three years ago. Something has changed within her. The Verity lives there, yes, but it’s more than that. As if a fire has been ignited. Even so, this alters nothing. Verity or not, fire or none, she still needs me. And I will protect her no matter the cost.
The Guardians tread the bank’s edge and anxiety taints the air like sour milk. The only noise is the distinct hush preluding fresh snowfall. Wait for the opportune moment. That’s the first thing they teach you in Guardian training. Patience is key in a crisis situation. Acting too soon could cause disaster, while waiting too long could trigger an equally treacherous outcome.
Preacher appears at my right. “All bodies accounted for, sir.”
I nod. As I suspected.
I face El. Her oaken gaze pierces like a wooden dagger. We know each other so well, yet somehow this doesn’t help. She’s aware I will send her away, and I expect her to fight it. “Do not question me on this,” I say.
“This isn’t like before.” She pulls away and rounds on Preacher. “I am your queen. You answer to me now. I’m staying.”
He avoids her gaze. Half of me is enraged by his indifference toward his queen. But the other half? The other half is still me, and if Preacher’s indignation aids in my efforts to protect her, so be it.
“I’m not weak. I can fight.” Her eyes plead with mine.
Must she resist every time? Doesn’t she realize I’m trying to keep her alive? “Not this you can’t.” I have my suspicions, but I won’t know for sure until I speak to Nathaniel.
“If you would just tell me what’s going on, I know—”
“Enough!” My raised voice catches the crowd’s attention, and all eyes attend us. I swallow and inhale, regaining composure. Where the crowe did that come from?
“This is why.” She wrenches away.
My pulse speeds but I remain collected. “Why what?”
Her lower lip quivers and her gaze darkens. “Nothing. Never mind.” She wraps an arm around Stormy. “Lead the way, Preacher,” she says straight through me.
My best Guardian looks to me for confirmation, and once I give the nod, he’s off with the girls and the remainder of the guests in tow.
I watch their departure, keeping my eyes fixed on El until the last possible second. When she’s out of sight I find Makai. He’s already giving orders, placing Guardians around the lake’s perimeter, sending groups of twos and threes to search the forest.
“At least ten Guardians will be stationed here at the Threshold around the clock,” he says to Wren. “No one goes in or out.”
“Yes, Commander.” She wears her war face, usually not a good sign, but in this case a relief to witness. She can be trusted to guard and protect. No fear, this one.
When I approach she glances in my direction, and her expression alters. Guilt settles in my gut. I bring my fist to my lips and clear my throat. “Wren.”
“David.”
I wince. I have yet to tell El of my history with Wren. One more secret I have kept.
Wren marches away, leaving me alone with my commander. Though I was king, I still feel as if I answer to Makai, my honorary older brother.
I already know but still feel a need for confirmation, so I ask, “The Threshold at Dawn Lake? It is draining?”
“So it would seem, but the situation is under control.” He pulls his unkempt hair off his face and secures it at his neck with a leather tie. “Do what you must.”
Makai always knows before I utter a word.
“Give Father my regards. I have not had a chance to visit him recently.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “I’ll tell him.”
As I head toward Wren I think of the last thing El said. “This is why.” I acted as if I didn’t understand, but I knew precisely what she meant. Because I know her better than anyone. She wanted to say more but refrained, always concerned about others’ feelings. But I know. Oh, I know.