CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Days passed, but Quinlan did not wake. Both doctors and healers from all over Aspea convened in the Axarian palace, but none were able to coax him out of his coma. Eventually, a man named Doctor Ilroy arrived from Ermir at Rose’s request. Although he couldn’t rouse Quinlan, the doctor stabilized his worsening condition and erratic heartbeat. The color returned to his face soon after, and Ilroy deemed his condition stable enough for transport back to Eradoris, where he could continue treatment.

Until then, Asterin spent every moment she could at Quinlan’s bedside, her fingers entwined with his, listening to his every breath. Ilroy had also succeeded in healing the cut on Asterin’s face. The only remnant was a thin, silver scar tracing down her cheek—reminding her every time she saw her reflection of what she could have lost. Had almost lost.

She was, however, forced to abandon Quinlan’s side now and then to deal with her royal duties. With Priscilla … not so much dead, but gone, Asterin ruled as Queen of Axaria, though the title wouldn’t be official until her coronation. Eadric bombarded her with paperwork—this needed her approval, that needed her signature or her seal. She had citizens lining the halls waiting to speak with her at all hours. No matter how little sleep she had gotten, she listened carefully to each one, doing her best to address their concerns while trying to imagine what her father might have said or done in her place.

Asterin wondered how long it would take Harry to find Orion. According to the anygné, one could compare the Mortal Realm to the Immortal Realm like an apple to the Earth. She wanted nothing more than to search for Orion herself, but Eadric sternly reminded her of her obligations as queen, and Harry refused to bring any mortals into the Immortal Realm until he found a concrete lead on Orion’s location.

Thoughts of Orion and Quinlan plagued her waking hours, but sleep was worse—hounded by grisly nightmares filled with the most vile of beasts and monsters. She awoke drenched in cold sweat, her heart pounding, the moment when Orion had disappeared into the portal replaying over and over in her head—her fingers just catching his sleeve, so close. So damned close. But she always missed, and then he was gone.

Some days later, while Asterin leafed through tedious documents, there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Harry waiting outside—the anygné had gratefully accepted her offer to stay at the palace until he had recovered from his injuries and his exhaustion from opening the portal. Wordlessly, she invited him into the sitting parlor.

Bruises circled his bloodshot eyes. He looked ravaged, worn right down to the bone. But even then, Harry being Harry, he wasted no words on pleasantries. “I thought about trying to contact some of my immortal kin for leads on Orion’s location, but … I would really rather not risk King Eoin finding out about this.” He sounded as weary as he looked. “The sooner I get to the Immortal Realm, the better.”

“Take me with you,” said Asterin.

Harry’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. The Immortal Realm is simply no place for mortals, the Shadow Kingdom even less so. And you have your duties here, as soon-to-be Queen of Axaria.” It was true—the arrangements for her ceremony were already being made. Still …

“Orion is down there,” she said, refusing to yield. “I can’t just stand by and wait for his return. It was my fault that he got away in the first place.”

“No,” Harry growled. “It wasn’t. It was his decision to follow me. He didn’t know about the consequences, and that was my fault. He must have thought that …” He hung his head. “That I wouldn’t come back.” After a moment, he shook himself and inhaled sharply. “Rose asked if I might be able to help transport Quinlan to Eradore since he’s in a delicate state right now, so I’ll depart for the Shadow Kingdom directly from Eradoris. If I can find a lead, I will see what I can do to ensure safe passage for a mortal queen, but I cannot make any promises.”

Asterin nodded. It wasn’t good enough, but it would have to do for now. “Thank you.” She bit her lip. “Will everything be all right between you and King Eoin? I mean, you did annihilate one of his clients.”

Harry sighed and got to his feet. “Don’t worry about that. It was my choice, and I’ll deal with the consequences. I’ve got a good track record, and believe it or not, Priscilla was fairly insignificant to him, anyway.” He shot her a sly grin. “Besides, he’s easily bribed. And I’m his favorite shadowling.” At her confused frown, he explained, “My immortal kin. There are three of us in total, although the oldest retired recently, just a few decades ago.”

“Recent indeed,” Asterin muttered.

“Killian came second in our little family,” he went on, making his way to the door. “She was only a child when Eoin claimed her, and they’ve never really gotten along. I was third, the youngest sibling of sorts even though I was nearly twenty when I signed my contract.” He ran a hand through his hair and scrunched his nose. “It’s dreadfully complicated.”

Asterin huffed at that, thinking of her own family. Though she tried not to show it, Priscilla’s treachery had affected her more deeply than she could have imagined possible, and she was still reeling. “I guess all families can be a little messy, can’t they?”

“I suppose so.” Harry let himself out the door, tipping his chin in parting. “Have fun finishing your paperwork.”

The following afternoon, two days before Harry and the Eradorians’ scheduled departure, Asterin was studying a list that Eadric had compiled of potential candidates to replace Garringsford as General of Axaria. She thumbed through the candidate profiles he had also helpfully provided, her legs propped up on the table in the sitting parlor. A long-stale tray of tea and sandwiches lay untouched by her feet.

There came a knock at the door, but before she could so much as set the papers down, Luna let herself in.

And for the first time in her life, Asterin could not read her best friend’s expression, now transformed into a cold mask.

Her resemblance to Priscilla nearly knocked the breath from Asterin’s lungs.

Since the battle on Fairfest Eve, Luna had thrown herself into her sculpting, making herself so scarce that the only time Asterin saw her was when she had deliberately loitered outside of the girl’s workshop. After two hours of waiting, Luna finally slipped out, stiffening as she caught sight of Asterin. Gaze averted, Luna had asked if “Her Royal Highness” required any assistance. Something leaden settled into Asterin’s gut and she had shaken her head, too stung to speak.

“Luna,” Asterin said, the list sliding from her grasp and onto the floor. She stood, pushing her legs off the table so forcefully that it scraped against the mahogany floor with an awful screech.

“Your Highness,” Luna said once Asterin had re-collected her wits. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes, of course, anything,” Asterin said, fumbling with the tea tray. “Please have a seat. I’ll ring for fresh tea.”

“Don’t bother. I won’t be long.”

“Oh.” Asterin cleared her throat, her hands twisting behind her back. “Right.” Where to begin? she wondered. Apologize? What came out instead was a shaky, “What can I do for you?” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the sudden tightness. “How … how have you been?” I miss you. “I’ve been worried about you, and—”

“I’m leaving.”

Asterin froze.

Luna pushed on. “The King of Ibreseos—my father. He’s invited me to stay at the Ibresean palace. He wrote to me yesterday. Apparently he wants to get to know me better, as well as open a gallery of my work. I just wanted to let you know where I was going.”

The room tipped sideways. Asterin’s mind whirled as she tried to steady herself, gripping the edges of the tea tray as Luna’s words sank in. “You … you can’t leave, Luna.”

“Can’t I?” Luna challenged. “You would deny me the opportunity to meet my father?”

“No, no, of course not, but—”

“I could have just left when the letter came, but—I respect our … friendship too much. And if you respect it as well, I hope that you’ll let me leave with your blessing,” Luna continued, grimacing even as she tried to conceal it by turning her face away.

“Luna, please, I know that I’ve done something terrible—to us—but let me fix it,” Asterin pleaded.

“It’s not something you can fix like a broken toy, Asterin. I just need some time away,” Luna said in a gentle voice, as if consoling a child.

The teacups on the tray began to clatter quietly. “Luna … I don’t expect you to forgive me, ever, but please know that I am so, so sorry.”

Luna remained silent.

“Do you have any idea how difficult making that decision was for me?” Asterin exclaimed, overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions. “To hold the lives of the people that I love most of all in this damn world in my hands and be forced to choose between them?”

“No, I don’t, but—”

“Well, what do you want me to tell you, Luna?” Asterin erupted. The tray tilted and the cups slid off, shattering on the floor, spilling tea onto her boots and soaking the rug. “What would you like me to say? That I regret protecting him? Because I don’t! I will never regret saving him.” She clenched her eyes shut. She wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on that feeling of absolute helplessness.

That was a dark, bottomless hole, and she refused to fall in.

Asterin took a breath, forcing herself to meet Luna’s eyes. “I will always regret not being powerful enough to protect both of you—”

“Orion,” Luna interrupted. His name sent another wave of fresh grief rolling over Asterin. “I have to—I have to know, Asterin. Tell me—if it had been between me and Orion, who would you have chosen?”

Asterin stopped short, stunned.

The silence that followed was the most agonizing she had ever experienced, because they both knew that she was stalling.

“I—” She swallowed, averting her gaze. “Luna …”

And that was answer enough.

Luna’s mask cracked for the briefest second, revealing the despair beneath. Asterin felt as though her heart had been cleaved in half.

“I understand,” Luna said.

“How can you do this to me?” Asterin demanded, hurt. “You know I love you!” She scrabbled for words, voice rising in desperation. “If—if it had been between me and Eadric, who would you have chosen?”

“Always you, Asterin,” Luna responded without the slightest of hesitations. Her voice broke on her next words, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “I will always choose you.”

“She took my family,” Asterin whispered hoarsely. “She killed my parents.”

“And she took me from my family, too,” Luna said. “Somehow. I don’t even remember how, but I’m going to find them, wherever they are.”

Asterin stared at her. “What?”

“I had a brother and a sister and a mother that I couldn’t call mine, but they still called me their own.”

“You mentioned names during the battle,” said Asterin, racking her brain. “Maman and Nathan … and …”

Luna looked away. “Clara.”

“Do you miss them? Since—since you remembered?”

“Every second,” she murmured.

“Please, Luna,” said Asterin. What am I going to do without you? “Stay. Please stay. I’ll have a hundred galleries display your beautiful sculptures—”

“Asterin,” Luna hissed, her demeanor changing so suddenly that Asterin flinched. “It’s not about the damned gallery. I am going to Ibresis, whether you allow it or not. But I hoped that my departure wouldn’t ruin what is left of … us. Obviously, I was wrong.” Luna shook her head. “Wrong about so many things. I need some time away from … here. From Axaria.”

“You need some time away from me,” Asterin translated.

“Yes, Immortals help me. Yes, I do. I have my things packed already.” Luna turned and walked to the door, hand resting on the knob. “You made your choice, and now I’m making mine.”

“You’re leaving … forever?” Asterin croaked.

There was a lengthy pause. “No,” Luna sighed at last. “I don’t think so.”

“Write to me,” Asterin begged. “Write to me when you’re ready to come home.”

“Home,” her best friend whispered, opening the door. “I don’t even know what that means anymore.” She snapped the door shut, rattling the ink bottles on Asterin’s desk.

And as Asterin slid to the floor, alone in the silence, her family falling to pieces right before eyes, everything in her life on the verge of collapse like a glass tower she had not known was quite so fragile, she wished—not for the first time—that Priscilla’s shadow arrow had been aimed for her heart instead.

Just days after Luna departed, Asterin found herself standing with Rose and Harry on the outskirts of the Wall.

“Thank you for everything, Asterin,” Rose said, the late evening breeze ruffling the locks of auburn that managed to escape the hood of her cloak.

Jack and Laurel emerged from the gardens beyond the gate, levitating Quinlan—bundled to a flat wooden plank—between them.

Rose turned to Harry. “Again, I cannot express in words how grateful I am that Quinlan no longer needs to risk a long trip across the ocean. Without you … the journey would have taken ages.”

Harry tipped his head. “It is my honor.”

“The first thing I will do when he awakens,” Rose told Asterin, “is yell at him. The second will be to write a letter to you.” The Eradorian shot her a wry smile. “The yelling may take a while.”

The thundering of hooves announced Eadric’s arrival. He pulled up beside the gate and swung out of the saddle, leaving Grey to paw and huff at the road.

Captain Covington had seen better days. Exhaustion lined his features, and it looked as if he hadn’t run a comb through his hair—or even slept, for that matter—since Luna had left. He had volunteered to carry out Garringsford’s responsibilities and obligations as temporary General of Axaria until a worthy replacement was found, and on top of that, he had demanded to personally oversee background rechecks for every guard in the palace, plus recruit new guards to replace the ones they had lost in the battle.

“Leaving so soon?” asked Eadric.

“Yes, but I’m glad you caught us, Captain,” said Rose.

He bowed his head. “As am I, Your Majesty.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Why, Captain, I thought we were well past those sorts of formalities.”

That drew a chuckle out of him. “You’re the one calling me captain.”

“Well, I’m the Queen of Eradore,” she shot back, though there was no fire behind her words. “I can do whatever I please.”

Eadric sighed, but his mouth twitched into a tired smile. “Undoubtedly, Your Majesty.” He coughed. “I mean … Rose.” At her smile, he seemed to summon up the courage to ask, “That fellow with the knives who fought beside you during the ball … was that Kane?”

Rose’s mouth thinned, but she nodded. “He disappeared as soon as I left the ballroom to find all of you. Only the Immortals know what he’s up to now. He mentioned something about a neighboring kingdom, though, so you probably don’t have to worry about him.”

Grey whinnied and Eadric shifted. “Well, I’m afraid that I must be off.” To Rose, he said, “I pray for your safe journey and Quinlan’s restoration to full health.” He gave them all a final brisk nod before striding toward Grey, posture as stiff and rigid as a wind-up toy.

“Eadric,” Rose called at the last moment, just as he mounted Grey and wheeled him around.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Visit us soon.”

He looked taken aback. “Should you wish it—”

“I do.”

Eadric’s hands tightened on the reins, his gaze glinting onyx in the moonlight. “I will, Rose.”

They watched him round a corner and disappear behind the hedges.

When all was silent once more, Rose spoke. “He’s not so good with goodbyes, is he?”

Asterin held her arms open, and Rose fell gracelessly into her embrace. “Well, this isn’t goodbye,” she murmured into Rose’s hair.

Rose chuckled softly. “From one queen to another, a million thanks.”

“A million thanks,” Asterin echoed, and they parted. To Harry, she anxiously asked, “Will you be okay going back and forth so many times?” He could only transport one extra person per shadow jump.

“I devoured enough food to feed the entire royal court,” reassured Harry. “And thanks to your fancy palace pillows, I’m more rested than I’ve been in weeks.”

Asterin sighed. “Safe travels, then.”

The anygné held out a hand for Rose to take, the air charged with the sheer weight of his power. “Ready?”

“Ready,” said Rose and placed her hand in his.

They vanished.

When Harry returned for Quinlan a few minutes later, he gave Asterin an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Asterin, I’m going to—” He squeaked in alarm as Asterin threw her arms around his neck. They stayed like that until Harry exhaled, rubbing her back. “I’ll find him. I promise.”

“I’m counting on you, Harry,” Asterin whispered fiercely. “I need him back.”

“So do I,” he said with such emotion that she drew back in surprise. Harry blinked, and then blushed bright pink. “I mean—”

“Oh,” Asterin said. “Oh.” How could she be so stupid? All those times … She hadn’t even noticed. “So … you …”

“Well, yes.” Harry reddened further. “You don’t mind, do you?”

It took her a moment for his meaning to sink in. “What? Of course not.”

His smile lit up his entire face. “Thank you, Asterin.”

She bit her lip, turning to where Quinlan lay on the plank. She swept back a few strands of dark hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss to his brow, blinking away the sudden prickle of tears, and stepped back. “I’ve lost half of my family,” she whispered. She took a breath, letting it cool the heat in her veins. Beyond the gate in the Wall, she could just glimpse the districts of Axaris glittering and twinkling away below, as they always did. When the stars emerged from behind a stubborn mist, it seemed as though the night sky itself reflected the city.

“You can’t think like that,” Harry said. “Or you’re just letting Priscilla win. The things I’ve done for King Eoin … I can’t let him win, either.”

“If all goes well, maybe I’ll get to meet him.”

A crooked little grin played on Harry’s face. “Pray that you don’t ever find yourself within ten leagues of the Ruler of Darkness, Your Majesty.”

“If it means that Orion has been found, I will dream of nothing else.”

Harry hefted Quinlan higher onto his back. “Very well. I shall see you soon.”

Asterin forced herself to look away from Quinlan’s face. “May the Immortals protect you, Harry … wherever you must go.”

The anygné smiled. “Have spirit, Asterin Faelenhart, and till ’morrow.”

Asterin stood alone beneath the Wall long after Harry and Quinlan had faded into evanescence. The voices of Jack and Laurel floated to her, the two Elites sprawled in the grass by the guardhouse and pointing at the stars. She stared out into the night, the magic of the wards beyond the Wall humming like a lullaby in her bones, and the light of Axaris burning like a promise in her heart.

“Till ’morrow,” she whispered.