CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ELARA

AS ELARA GOT DRESSED FOR ANOTHER LONG DAY, SHE THOUGHT OF how far she had come from that little girl who lived in a small farming town miles away from the ocean. Once, her world had been no bigger than her island. Now that it had widened, she missed that comforting smallness and that illusory sense of control. But, at the same time, she didn’t regret most of the choices that had led her to the center of international politics. That little girl had been shy, ignorant, young. The woman she saw in the mirror had a voice.

And she planned to use it.

Doña Montserrat and Queen Aveline were the only two in the room when Elara arrived. Their chairs were pushed so close that their knees touched, and they spoke to each other in soft Joyan. Aveline had dressed Elara in a long-sleeved silver gown with golden appliqués; she had dressed herself in a gold gown with puffed sleeves and a matching head wrap. Doña Montserrat wore another one of her fitted suits, but by wild coincidence her vest had gold pinstripes.

They flinched apart when Elara cleared her throat.

“I wanted to talk about yesterday,” she said. “You silenced me. I mean no disrespect, Your Majesty, but if you trust me enough to send me to Étolia alone, then you should trust me enough to speak during this conference. Why didn’t you support me the way I support you?”

Aveline blinked, clearly thrown. Beside her, the doña hid a smile that was gone by the time Aveline glanced at her. “They were trying to manipulate you into an emotional response, Maiden. They wouldn’t listen—”

“You don’t know that. I wasn’t feeling emotional.” Elara paused. “Well, not so emotional that my points weren’t sound. We are both here on behalf of San Irie. In that, we are equals. If what happened yesterday is going to happen again, then I’d rather return to Highfort. Where my opinion is respected and I can make some real progress.”

“I’ll… go and get us some water,” said Doña Montserrat, disappearing before Aveline or Elara could point out that there were already filled glasses of water on the table.

Only once she was gone did Aveline sigh and rub her temples. Elara’s hands trembled, but she clenched them into fists. Breathe in. Breathe out. She refused to apologize or console the queen, even though Aveline looked both tired and hurt. Elara wasn’t wrong, and she was sure that the queen knew it. She just had to wait her out.

“Elara,” Aveline finally said, her tone so thoughtful, it was clear she’d been waiting a while to say what she was going to say, “you have weathered a lot in a very short amount of time, and, in the future, your strength will be called upon even—and especially—if you do not have it. You are a light to the people of our island as the Maiden Empyrean, but you must take care to keep some of that light for yourself.”

Aveline looked as though she had little light left. When they had traveled the island together during the war against the Langlish Empire, Aveline had seemed untouchable thanks to Elara’s precocious crush. After the war, after she’d taken the throne, the queen had become untouchable in a different way, locking away any vulnerability to project the air of confidence that her young nation needed in a leader. It was only recently that Aveline had begun to set aside that mask when she and Elara were alone, and it never stopped feeling like a privilege to see those lines of exhaustion, those slumped shoulders, that lopsided diadem.

They were alike in many ways, Elara and Aveline. The crushing responsibility on their shoulders was one they couldn’t set down, even for a second, without feeling guilty. Their lives had never been truly their own. And they were tired. So very tired.

Elara shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Did I do something wrong, Your Majesty? If I’ve given you reason not to trust me—”

“That is not it at all. It’s more that”—the queen paused for a long moment, her jaw working soundlessly—“I saw what this constant performance did to your sister. I know what it’s done to me. And I—there were times during the revolution that I didn’t know how I would bear it all until I saw your smile, so sunny and sincere, and it would seal the cracks of my damaged hope for the future.”

“I—”

“I won’t hide my preference for working with you for the protection of the island over your sister, but, if I treat you more cautiously, it’s not because I think you’re weak. It’s because I want to protect that smile. I know we’re not blood, but we emerged from those flames as family”—Aveline’s eyes flashed—“the only family I have. Do you understand?”

Elara took a deep breath, because if she gave in to the urge to sob at this show of kindness, then she would never stop. “So you silenced me because we’re family? I don’t understand that.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have silenced you. I promise that I do trust you. It’s only that”—Aveline stood up and crossed the room until she was standing in front of Elara—“the more I ask of you, the more I see your light dimming. Your confidence eroding. Your entire self retreating behind a mask of your own. You’re too genuine for that.” She took Elara’s hand. Her calluses—from farm life, from battle—felt rough against Elara’s skin. “Promise me you’ll try to get it back.”

A tear slipped free despite Elara’s efforts to stop it. Relief warmed her body. She hadn’t realized how tightly wound she had been, between the protests and the gods, Signey and Cherry, her sister’s alleged criminal activity and the kidnapping of Jesper, until she squeezed the queen’s hand and some of her nerves settled, too. She and Aveline were a united front, two matching shields to protect San Irie as best they could. Aveline had different priorities, but in the end, they carried the same weight.

The queen was just carrying it better.

“Does that go for Faron, too?” she whispered, because she had to know. “Is Faron still your family?”

Aveline frowned. “Where is this coming from?”

“Signey and I had a fight. She thinks that Faron’s been corrupted, that she’s joined Iya’s side. And I—I appreciate your trust, Your Majesty, I do. I want us to be on the same side. But I can’t trust you completely unless… I know where you stand on Faron.”

The queen’s frown deepened. She glanced at the door, listening for something she didn’t find. Then, she lowered her voice and said, “Your sister is many things, Maiden, but a traitor is not one of them. Whatever fool plan she has, she’s doing it for you. For San Irie.”

“I know,” said Elara, smiling. “I’m just glad you know it, too.”

Aveline returned her smile. Minutes later, the rest of the group filed into the room: Doña Montserrat carrying a tray of water glasses, Tournesola Orianne and her musketeers, Rey Christóbal and Professor Smithers, and, in the back, Signey Soto with a tentative smile. That smile was the final confirmation that last night’s conversation hadn’t been a dream, and it settled the last of Elara’s nervousness.

The soldiers took their places against the wall as the seats were pulled out. But as everyone settled into their chairs, Aveline lifted a hand.

“We’ll need one more,” she told one of the Joyan soldiers. “The Maiden Empyrean needs a place at the table.” The soldier glanced at the rey, who nodded. “Thank you.”

All eyes were on Elara now, but she didn’t shrink away.

Professor Smithers gave her a small smile, and Elara smiled back.

“All right,” said Rey Christóbal, taking the lead once more. “Let’s begin.”

Even with Elara’s many attempts to focus the conversation, the second day of the conference was as disastrous as the first. A discussion about supplies and capacity—what percentage of their forces each country could reasonably commit to the cause—had dissolved into another argument about personal responsibility. If Iya had been created by Langley and unleashed by San Irie, shouldn’t they contribute more soldiers, whether they had them or not? Since Étolia was likely to be the next country attacked, shouldn’t some of those soldiers go toward bolstering their country’s defenses? And if Joya del Mar was the farthest away from Iya’s current territory, should they have to spare any soldiers at all?

These details didn’t matter. But these adults, these so-called politicians, wasted hours picking one another apart. By the time any sort of alliance was formed, there wouldn’t be a world left to protect.

The very thought made Elara grouchy even after she retired to her room for the day. Orange sun rippled through the curtains, bringing out the red undertones in her skin as she loosened the buttons of her dress’s high collar. Before her, the fire roared and Cherry McKay’s voice twinkled a greeting. Elara’s frown deepened.

“If this is a social call,” she said into the fireplace, kicking off her heels and dropping onto the edge of her bed, “I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood to be social?” Cherry sounded downright gleeful. “You really have grown.”

“Cherry.”

“Oh, fine. I’m calling because we’ve finished running some preliminary tests. Signey has an anomaly in her blood that isn’t shared by other Langlish samples. Or Lindan samples, for that matter. So I used various samples—magical and unmagical—as our controls, and I managed to isolate—”

“Cherry.” Elara groaned. “I’m glad you found your calling, but I’m so tired. Please skip the methodology and get to the point.”

“The power in Signey’s blood is most similar to yours. It’s divine.”

Elara blinked. “Signey is a god?”

“Not exactly, but she shares the same magic as a certain someone who has the power of one. Elara, I think—I mean, more testing would be needed, of course, but I theorize that… well, it’s possible that Signey—that all the Sotos—should be able to break dragon bonds.”

“What?”

“I know! It sounds impossible, but—imagine if it’s true.” The glee was back in Cherry’s voice, but this time it was a giddiness that accompanied a potential victory. This, Elara realized, was Cherry’s version of a battle. And unlike in their backyard spars, these were fights she could win. “When Gael Soto first bonded with Lightbringer, it changed him in ways large and small, mental and biological. In his blood was the power of an Empyrean and a Rider, and he passed that blood down to his descendants. That might be the reason you and Signey were bonded to Zephyra months ago. She has the diluted power of an Empyrean inside her, except instead of summoning astrals, she might be able to manipulate dragon souls. And if she can do that, then she can definitely break bonds.”

Elara got to her feet so she could pace the length of the room. It would make a strange sort of sense. Signey had been able to bear the weight of bonding with Zephyra for years before meeting Elara and in the weeks after Elara’s bond had been broken. Signey and Zephyra had moved as if they were one person in two bodies, rather than dragon and Rider. Signey was the strongest warrior in Hearthstone Academy through sheer force of will, yes, but could it also have been because she was genuinely more powerful than anyone else?

“I need to talk to the queen,” Elara finally said. “If this is true—if you’re right—”

“This is just a theory! I have to run more tests, and I will,” Cherry promised. “But even if I’m wrong, I do think I’m on to something, that the Sotos are the key to ending all this.”

“I should call—”

“Barret has already been notified. Signey’s there with you, right? Can you tell her I’ll need those samples sooner rather than later?”

After ending the call, Elara poked her head out the door to send a Queenshield for Aveline. Then she paced her room again, mind racing. A Soto to end what a Soto had begun. But could Signey actually break the bond between Gael Soto and Lightbringer, dividing Iya back into two halves they could individually take down? Could Signey break any bonds at all, or were all Cherry’s tests inaccurate? Would Signey want to break a bond after losing her own?

Despite everything, Elara didn’t doubt that Signey would do whatever it took to save the world. It was one of the first things they had bonded over, this incessant need they both had to do the right thing. Signey had perfected the kind of heroism that Elara felt she struggled toward, and yet one starlit night, on dragonback, with wind on their faces and danger in their path, she had said that Elara was her inspiration.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Aveline asked as she entered the room. The door slipped shut behind her, and she folded her arms over the gold gown she still wore. “I hope it’s because you have a treaty in your back pocket.”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” Elara said. And then: “I just received word from Highfort that Signey Soto might be capable of breaking dragon bonds.”

Aveline was quiet for a long moment, her expression blank. “Do you really think she’ll pursue that option?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Dragons are an intrinsic part of Langlish culture and national identity. Signey did not give up her own bond willingly. Why would she force that fate upon anyone else?”

“The gods have been clear that this only ends with the dragons returned to the divine realm.” Elara had the sudden urge to pace again, but she didn’t want Aveline to think she was uncertain. “She knows how high the stakes are. Once Cherry confirms this theory, we can put together a plan—hopefully one that ends with breaking the bond between Lightbringer and Gael once and for all.”

There was another silence. Elara had no idea what her face looked like, but whatever Aveline saw there made the queen sigh. “I think it’s best if we put together a plan now. I’ll summon Miss Soto.”

“I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

By the time Elara emerged, Signey was present in her riding leathers, speaking quietly with the queen. The conversation came to a stop when they both turned to look at her. But when Elara sat on the bed, Signey sat down beside her. As if they were united. It felt… good.

Aveline gestured for Elara to speak, so she explained everything that Cherry had told her. Signey stared at the floor between her feet, her face blank until Elara was done. She didn’t speak right away, giving Elara and Aveline enough time to exchange a glance. Elara wondered if Signey was thinking about this news, or if she was thinking of Zephyra, who was, for once, not somewhere outside waiting for her. Aveline looked as if she wanted to say something, but Elara held up a hand.

They needed to let Signey process this in her own time.

“What if it hurts them?” Signey finally said in a small voice. “If I can break bonds like Iya can, what if it hurts them? What if what happened to Zephyra happens to the rest?”

“There’s definitely that risk,” said Elara, placing her hand on the bed between them. Her palm was turned upward in invitation, but she didn’t push. “But I think it will be different. Iya broke my bond and yours at different times. When he broke mine, I didn’t even feel it. Not like you did. So there must be a way to do it without that trauma. You felt that pain because he wanted you to. I know you wouldn’t wield this power the same way.”

Signey’s hand found Elara’s. Their fingers intertwined. “I can’t do that to my people. If—I mean, I’d want to have their permission.”

“Do you think they’ll give it?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll explain. I’ll convince them. But they have to be willing, or I won’t do it.” Signey finally raised her chin, and the determination that blazed in her eyes made her all the more beautiful. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“This does lead perfectly into the other thing I wanted to discuss,” said the queen. Elara and Signey both jumped, and Aveline smirked. “You forgot I was here, didn’t you? Ah, young love.” Her amusement filtered away. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Maiden. About making progress elsewhere. And today made me realize that you were right. You need not be here. Either of you.”

Signey looked at Elara. Elara looked at Signey.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand, Your Majesty.”

“I believe that the other rulers are purposefully talking in circles because the two of you are present. They wanted you gone, and we refused, and now they are refusing to come to a decision on the treaty terms. I know this game too well to play, especially when there are more important things you could be doing.” Aveline sat on Elara’s other side, her hands folded in her lap. The skirt of her dress spilled over the floor in a puddle of fabric. “Signey, I think you should return to Beacon and begin strategizing with your father about how to approach the bonds—and the Riders—once we hear back from Cherry. Elara, you should return to San Irie and aid in the research. We can’t move forward without answers, and, once the treaty is signed, we’ll need a plan in place.”

Elara expected to feel failure, disappointment, shame, but instead all she felt was excitement. “I’ll ask Rey Christóbal if I can borrow some books from his library before I go. If blood magic was ever a thing in Gael Soto’s day, we’d find information about it in a Joyan history book.”

“A brilliant idea, Maiden.” Aveline’s smile returned. “I will fire call you with any updates from here.”

Signey was still holding Elara’s hand. She gave it a squeeze. “I guess this is goodbye again.” She brought their joined hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of Elara’s. “Good luck and stay safe.”

Elara’s face was warm. “You, too. Um, with the luck. And the safety.”

When they were both gone, Elara flopped back on her bed, smiling triumphantly at the ceiling. They had action items and a future full of possibilities. It felt so good to no longer be standing still, trying to be heard in a room of people or gods who refused to listen. She was ready to run, step by step, until the world was safe again. Until Faron and Reeve were home again.

And now she knew just where to start.