Chapter Eight

Jack had a hawk.

Mere minutes after he whistled for it, a black smudge appeared over the horizon and descended upon them with terrifying fury. He offered it some meat from a pouch at his waist and it latched onto the elk hide gauntlet protecting his arm to scarf it down. Afterward, the Elite pulled out a shard of crystal from the chandelier. The hawk cocked its head and snapped it up into its beak before soaring back into the sky to circle the entertainment district.

Eadric wished he had a hawk. Or even better, a falcon. Because, sure, he descended from the House of the Falcon, but apparently he wasn’t worthy enough to have one himself.

“Why does Jack get a hawk?” he complained to Asterin while they waited. Four Elites remained: Jack, Laurel, Casper, and Silas. The others had escorted Asterin’s mother back to the palace while they investigated the café where the pipes had apparently burst. They found nothing, so the thing—which Asterin had begun calling Chaos—must have already moved on.

“Why does the Captain of Axaria whine like a toddler?” his queen mocked. At his outraged gape, she held up her hands. “I never said that I don’t, either.” She sighed and straightened the sleeves of her sleek obsidian bodysuit, which she’d made a habit of carrying around with her. Tailored to her every limb, it made for easy changes in dire situations just like this. The Queen of Eradore had sent it overseas as a gift. It was nearly identical to Rose’s suit but for the color—black instead of blue. “Guess it’s about time we grew up.”

High above, Jack’s hawk let out a shriek. They mounted their horses and galloped away from the Pavilion. The horseshoes clattered like low bells against the pavement of the streets, designed specially by earth wielders to protect the horses’ hooves on hard surfaces.

The hawk acted as their star, guiding them northwestward. Carriages and hansom drivers veered out of their way as they barreled past, but the horses had hardly settled into their stride when Jack signaled ahead and they came to a halt before a dimly lit tavern. A wooden sign dangled above the door. The Smiling Imp, it read in flaking blue paint. From within came the muffled shattering of glass and boisterous shouting. There was an unwieldy thump followed by a crash, as if a table had caved in.

They swept the perimeter on foot, scanning for alternative entrances—a side door blocked by wooden crates, and a back door. Eadric peered into the windows as they walked, but the sun reflected too brightly against the panes to make out any of the dim interior.

Once they circled back to the front of the tavern, Eadric cleared his throat. “Queen Asterin and I will hang back. Silas, Laurel, you two enter through the back and scout first.”

Asterin, who already had her hand on the door handle, narrowed her eyes. “Come again?”

“There is no reason for you to rush in headfirst,” said Eadric. He signaled to the two Elites. “You have two minutes. Do not engage and return quickly.”

“Yes, Captain!” they chorused before jogging off and disappearing around the corner.

“Eadric, if you think—”

“Your Majesty,” he interrupted, forcing himself to meet Asterin’s flat, unimpressed gaze. “You must use your Elites to the fullest extent in ensuring your safety. That is their purpose, as well as mine.” Before she could reply, he added, “Do not forget the decision Priscilla forced you to make. If any one of us had been there to back you up—Orion, Rose, the Elites, or myself—things could have gone very differently. For you, for Quinlan, for . . .” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “For Luna. For all of us.”

Eadric wondered if he had overstepped when Asterin turned away without responding. However, she didn’t argue either, so he took her silence for assent.

As they waited, Jack scrutinized the sky with his hands on his hips, tracking his hawk’s every swoop. Casper twirled his knives, keeping his eyes fixed on the tavern’s entrances.

At two minutes and exactly two seconds, the noise swelled, accompanied by raucous cheers and more crashing. Eadric exchanged a glance with Asterin. The queen nodded once.

“Casper, with us,” he said. “Jack, with the horses. Send for backup.”

Together, they charged the front door.

Utter pandemonium greeted them.

Eadric ducked as a bottle went sailing over his head and smashed through a window at the far end of the tavern, though the sound was completely muted by the shouts of drunken patrons. A table had, in fact, caved in. A horde of people had amassed around a hulking brute of a man, and a young girl wove through the crowd collecting bets.

The crowd let out a cheer as the brute lurched forward and swung a meaty fist at a significantly smaller figure clad in a crimson cloak.

“Wait,” blurted Casper. “Is that—”

Eadric’s mouth dropped open. “Silas? ”

Lithe as a cougar, the Elite dodged beneath the man’s fist. It crushed the face of a nearby spectator. Silas lashed a leg out and his opponent went down with a roar. But before he could rise, the Elite descended upon him with fists flying.

Eadric let out a growl and stormed toward the brawl with Asterin on his heels. He was going to skin the Elite for such flagrant disobedience. And Silas, of all people? “Do not engage, I said!”

“Captain! ”

He spun around and found himself face-to-face with Laurel. Her bun had fallen apart and ale soaked her jacket front. An angry bruise had already begun to blossom across her cheek. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “I expected far better from you—”

“Eadric,” Asterin cut in, her tone sharper than steel. “Something’s wrong. Look.”

While Eadric had been distracted, Silas had wrapped his hands around his opponent’s neck. The cheers crescendoed to a climax. Ice crackled from the Elite’s palms, spreading across the man’s shoulders and neck and steadily purpling face. A strange, animalistic glint shone in his dark-brown eyes.

Eadric’s stomach curdled with dread when he noticed the oily black spores spreading along Silas’s ice.

“I couldn’t get him to snap out of it!” Laurel shouted over the din. “It’s like something is possessing him!”

Casper coughed pointedly. “I’m not sure if saving that second man is at the top of anybody’s priority list right now, but I think Silas is about to choke the life out of him.”

Asterin touched Eadric’s elbow, fixated on the rotting ice. “I don’t want anyone getting anywhere near that ice. Remember that cage of lightning you used to capture Priscilla during the battle?”

Eadric nodded in understanding and rolled up his sleeves. To the Elites, he said, “Get the patrons out of here.”

Drowning out his surroundings, he focused on his breathing, focused on every stale, alcohol-tainted breath entering his lungs and cooling the buzzing in his veins. Affinity stone in hand, he sought out the fringes of his magic, pulling at the threads until they drew taut. He waited for the pressure to build deep within his core—and then, eyes still closed, he set it free.

Power shuddered through him as a vicious wave of electricity exploded from his body. It split into orbs of lightning that jumped from place to place, too swift for the eye to quite catch, sparking and spitting like mini bonfires.

Silas faltered for the briefest second, glaring up at the new threat. One orb nipped at his hand and shocked his grip right off his now-unconscious opponent. Without wasting a heartbeat, Asterin lassoed the unconscious man’s limbs with howling funnels of wind and hauled him out of harm’s way before Laurel and Casper rushed back into the now empty tavern to lug him outside.

Eadric kept his breath steady as he flicked his affinity stone upward. His magic yanked at him like an eager hound, begging for freedom, but his grip only tightened on its leash. Obey, he commanded in his mind. The orbs convulsed into long shafts and arced over Silas’s head, enclosing him in forks of blinding white light.

Silas fell still, staring at them through the lightning prison with eyes blacker than jet and his expression utterly blank.

Eadric suppressed a shiver. He would have preferred some sort of resistance, or some snarling, at the very least. “What now?”

“We get that thing out of him,” said Asterin quietly as she curled her fingers into a fist. Silas gagged, his hands going to his throat to claw at emptiness as the queen stole the oxygen from his lungs with her air affinity. After a brief struggle, his eyes rolled back and he slumped silently to the ground.

Eadric let his lightning fizzle out. Without a word, they dove for Silas, each grabbing an arm and a leg. While they manhandled him out of the tavern, Asterin conjured a stream of water. It gushed over Silas’s body, snaking all the way down to his ankles and up his neck, covering his hands and face completely. Bright-blue frost bloomed from her fingertips and raced outward to forge tailor-made confinements.

An icy white puff of vapor curled from her lips. “We have to compensate the tavern owner for the damages,” she said as they reached the door. She shoved it open with her hip. “As well as the café owner. And the poor sod that Silas beat the daylights out of, of course.” Two high-stepping horses waited at the street curb, harnessed to one of the more subtle palace carriages, their tails flicking and their chestnut coats gleaming. The Elites had already cleared the area, so they didn’t have to worry about eyes. “And we’ll need to hire a team to restore the concert hall.”

Jack’s hawk awaited them from its perch atop a lamp affixed to the side of the carriage. Hayley was picking at a scab on her elbow in the driver’s seat. As soon as she caught sight of them, she leapt down to open the carriage door, causing the hawk to flap away with an irate screech and land in her abandoned seat instead, its feathers puffed in indignation.

“I should help with that, too,” Asterin rambled on. “The restoration, I mean. Can’t do much about the piano, but—”

Two more Elites—Gino, followed by Nicole—hopped out of the carriage. They helped lay Silas onto the bench, propping him against the cushions. Eadric got in after Asterin, only half listening as they sat themselves on the opposite bench.

“—I’ll speak with the royal accountant, surely we can allocate funds for the purchase of a new one. If we have to send Levain and some experts overseas for it, then so be it. The last one came from Galanz, didn’t it? But—”

“Your Majesty,” said Eadric.

“—Immortals, the paperwork! Ah—”

“Asterin,” Eadric exclaimed. Her teeth clacked shut. He reached forward to place a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. Please. We’ll work everything out eventually, but first we need to focus on getting Silas back to the palace safely and eradicating the Chaos possessing him.”

She scrubbed her face with the heels of her palms. “Of course.” When she lifted her head, her entire demeanor transformed. Her posture straightened. The anxiety creasing her brow smoothed. With sharp eyes, she counted the horses and the Elites at her disposal. “Hitch Silas’s mare to the carriage,” she commanded, her voice even and strong. “Eadric and Hayley will return with me via carriage to the palace. The rest of you, on horseback. Move swiftly, but leisurely. Understood? We still don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with, so the last thing we want to do is alarm the citizens or fire up even more rumors.”

The Elites saluted as one and sped into action. Horses and riders switched, with Gino and Nicole mounting Asterin’s and Eadric’s horses. The others helped Hayley hitch the third horse to the front of the procession before they, too, swung onto their steeds. Hayley shooed Jack’s hawk back to its lamp perch and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Asterin pulled the carriage door shut and stuck her head out of the window. “Split up, everyone. Stagger departures.” The carriage jerked to life. “Meet in Training Hall C!”

As they clattered off, Asterin drew the curtains shut and slumped against her seat. She gazed at Silas, brow furrowed. Each jostle of the carriage—and, consequently, Silas’s body—caused her to wince.

Eadric reached forward to give the blue frost covering the Elite a curious prod, half expecting his finger to freeze to the surface, but it was only mildly cool to the touch. “What if he wakes up?”

Asterin leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. “He won’t,” she mumbled, and that was that.

“Do you think the Chaos came from the Immortal Realm?” asked Eadric. “And how did it infiltrate Axaris?”

“There are consequences to traveling back and forth between the two realms,” Asterin responded. “Some scholars have speculated that it even causes the lines separating one from the other to blur . . . which I suppose could make crossing over easier.”

“But . . .” Eadric trailed off. Over three months before, Harry had summoned at least three portals within the span of a few days. First to banish Priscilla, then to return to the Mortal Realm, then once more to begin his search for Orion. “That happened months ago.”

His queen shrugged. “Like I said, it’s all speculation. Maybe there’s some kind of breach somewhere. Maybe someone freed it and sent it here.”

A terrifying thought. “Maybe it just really wanted to hear that pianist play,” Eadric murmured.

That drew a surprised laugh from her, but just then the carriage glided to a halt.

Hayley’s muffled voice came through the door. “All clear!”

“You take his legs,” Asterin told Eadric while gripping him under his armpits. He nudged the door open, and together, they hauled ass for the palace entrance, all too aware of the stares likely pinned on them from the windows above.

A familiar whinny rang through the air, accompanied by the thundering of hooves. Lux rocketed through the Wall’s main gate seconds later, with Gino clutching the reins for dear life. Asterin’s stallion nearly threw him into a hedge, but the poor Elite eventually managed to slide out of the saddle in one piece.

They found Elyssa Faelenhart waiting for them atop the stairs to the palace foyer. Asterin’s mother ran down to meet them midway. “Thank the Immortals.” When she caught sight of Silas, the color drained from her face. “What happened?”

Asterin transferred Silas to Hayley and Gino. “Get him into the hall.”

After the two Elites rushed off, Elyssa grabbed her daughter’s hands, distraught. Her voice shook. “Asterin. You can’t just chase after trouble like this.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” said Asterin. “Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Elyssa repeated incredulously. She flung her arm in the direction that the Elites had carried Silas off to. “What if it had been you?”

Asterin examined the floor tiles as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. “It wasn’t,” she said in a small voice. Then, with blazing intensity, she looked up again. “However, it was one of my Elites. Now he’s in danger, and I have to help him.”

Elyssa’s grip tightened until one of Asterin’s knuckles cracked aloud in protest. “Danger? You’re risking yourself again?”

“I would risk anything for my Elites, Mother,” said Asterin.

“Something else happened while we were away,” Elyssa admitted. “There came reports of some kind of tremor beneath the palace. Several guards went to investigate and found an old crypt bearing the sigil of the God of Shadow with a gigantic butterfly fountain in the middle. It had split down the middle and was flooding the chamber. The guards managed to stop the flooding, but beneath the fountain itself they found a hole with no bottom in sight . . . and dozens of claw marks on the floor emerging out of it. Perhaps . . .”

“Perhaps that’s how the Chaos crawled into Axaris,” Asterin finished, shaking herself free from Elyssa’s grip. Eadric hastened after her as she marched toward the palace. She paused midstep and turned to her mother. “Order the crypt to be sealed off and warded,” she called. “I need to attend to Silas.”

Eadric hurried after her down the grand staircase to the concourse. “Are you sure about this? The crypt seems like a priority.”

Asterin exhaled. “No. The damage is already done. My only worry is what else might have escaped from that hole. But we won’t know until they choose to show themselves. My priority right now is Silas.” They arrived at the doors to the training hall. She turned to him before they entered, though she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “All we have to do is find a way to destroy the Chaos without accidentally killing him.”

Eadric stared at her. “How?”

Asterin raised her chin high. It was a challenge. A war call. “No idea. But I guess we’re about to find out.”