Page 48
“Or one might stab the other in the back,” I say.
He laughs, genuine this time, and spreads his empty hands. “I have no knife.”
I show him my teeth. “I have many.”
“Worth the risk.” He slows his stride. “I’ll be here when you decide you want help.”
I glare over my shoulder at him. “What makes you think I’ll come back?”
All of his humor vanishes. “Because the prince came this way, too.” He gestures to the shimmering path. “He did not return, so I went searching out of boredom. I know where he’s being held captive.”
I pause at the threshold, weighing my options. “What do you want?”
“A way out,” he says simply.
The stone will lead me to my princeling, but if the monster I heard earlier is there with him, Kelaros could be a good distraction while I save Elionn.
I click my tongue at him. “Come along, then. Maybe you’ll prove useful after all.”
14
WHAT KINGS CANNOT SAY
THERON
Purple blood streams down my palm as I lay it over the sealed fissure where Amalia disappeared.
“Amalia Wolf!” I call her name again, throat raw from repeated attempts.
No response comes.
I drive my fist into the barrier, sending pain lancing up my arm. Whatever caused the Opal Court to open for Amalia and my brother, it does not extend to me.
The realization burns deeper than any physical pain. I am the Silver King, ruler of the most powerful sithe in the Celestial Court, yet I stand helpless before this relic of a forgotten age, unable to follow a mortal woman and my own brother into danger.
“Your Majesty.” Thalindor remains several paces behind me. “We must attend to the Dark King, or it will be taken as a slight.”
I ignore him, focusing instead on the fissure. My fingers trace the edges where rainbow light seeps through cracks in reality. The magic pulses, neither weakening nor strengthening. Just existing, patient and immovable as mountains.
“She can still emerge,” I insist, not turning to my guard. “If she made it through alive, she can return the same way.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Thalindor’s question hangs in the air between us.
I have no answer that I will give voice to. The sithean stone connected Amalia to Elionn through blood magic, forging the one bond that could not be severed when Elionn slipped beyond the reach of his own kin.
If Amalia is lost to us now, too, what connection to my brother remains?
My thoughts circle back to the moment before she stepped through. Her refusal to accept the loss as I did. Did her belief in Elionn’s survival allow her to enter?
“She must,” I say, the words more prayer than statement.
If she can return, it means so too can my little brother.
Thalindor shifts behind me, his armor whispering with the movement. “Your Majesty, we must return.”
“King Nyctarian has hidden this rift from the Courts for an untold amount of time,” I say, anger frosting the air around me. “This is a crime against all fae.”
“Which is why our presence here endangers us.” Thalindor steps closer, taking greater care not to be overheard. “Do not force him to send guards to find us. If we leave now, everyone may still pretend this is not known.”
