Deep in meditation, Lyana didn’t sense the spirit racing toward her room until the door slammed with a loud bang. She and Rafe opened their eyes at the same time, his blue irises mirroring her shock. They were sitting cross-legged with their knees touching. He’d been immersed in his mental connection to the dragons, and she’d been steeped in her magic trying to access the rift. The slight body contact helped to keep them grounded—he knew she was safe, and she knew he wasn’t doing anything heroically foolish.
“Wait!” an out-of-breath voice carried down the hall. “Wait! You can’t— I’m supposed to—” Brighty slammed into the doorframe, a frown twisting her features as her chest heaved. “Magic alive, you people are fast! I tried to stop her, but—”
“It’s all right,” Lyana murmured, shifting her focus to the woman who’d charged into her room. “Welcome, Helen.”
The raven started, forcibly pulling her gaze from where it had settled, on Rafe’s fiery wings, to offer a stiff bow. “My queen.” Within moments, her attention slid sideways again. Her voice was tight as, with a curt nod, she muttered, “Rafe.”
He sighed. “I suppose Xander warned you.”
“He did.”
“And yet?”
The captain of the guards swallowed, fighting for composure. “It’s a shock.”
Outwardly, Rafe maintained his walls, but Lyana sensed his spirit clench, fighting an all-too-familiar pain, one buried so deeply he might never root it out. She reached across their laps to take his hand, and his fingers immediately tightened around hers. Helen watched on, her expression inscrutable. The wariness in her heart, though, was palpable.
“What brings you, Helen?” Lyana asked as she eased to her feet, pulling Rafe with her even as he tried to wriggle his hand free. She wouldn’t let him run anymore. She was done hiding, and he had no reason to be ashamed. “Is Xander all right?”
“As far as I know, he’s fine. He sent me here while he traveled to the House of Flight. Alone.”
“The House of Flight?” Lyana scrunched her brows.
Beside her, Rafe tensed. “Alone?”
“It was his idea,” the captain said, her reluctance obvious. “I’m to meet him with a set of guards as soon as I leave here.”
“And where are those guards?” Lyana glanced quickly through the crystal wall, seeing nothing but frozen land stretched as far as the eye could see.
“Waiting in the House of Song for my return.”
She released a heavy breath. Only a handful of people knew about the mages stationed here in the outskirts of the House of Peace, and Lyana wanted to keep it that way. Her people were opening to change, but a magical training ground, especially one outfitted with teachers smuggled up from the world below, would have been a bridge too far. Even Helen’s discomfort was obvious.
“Have there been earthquakes?” she asked, turning back to the captain. “Why didn’t he send word? I told him to communicate through Cassi.”
“He waited, but she never came.”
“She never…” Lyana trailed off, lifting her hand to her chin as she thought back. When was the last time she’d spoken to Cassi? Surely, it hadn’t been that long. Yet her days in the House of Peace were a bit of a blur. Between the hours spent deep in her magic, and the brief breaks to monitor the progress of her army, and the lively dinners with the crew, and the quiet nights coaxing Rafe to sleep, time had passed more swiftly than she’d realized. Had Cassi visited her dreams at all in the past week?
No.
Unease made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Lyana shuffled through her memories, back and back and back. When was the last time they’d met? It couldn’t have been before the House of Paradise fell, could it? Cassi would have come after that, if for no other reason than to make sure her queen was alive. She would have checked in, unless something—or someone—had stopped her.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe murmured, sensing her sudden fear.
“I have to find Captain Rokaro,” Lyana announced, her pulse spiking. “Now.”
“She’s—” Brighty dove out of the way as Lyana raced toward the door, half running and half flying through the opening. “Oh, for magic’s sake! Not again.”
The words were lost to the winds stirred by her wings as she propelled forward with urgent speed, leaving the featherless mage far behind. Rafe followed, and Helen too, the three of them emerging from the royal quarters within moments. The truth was, Lyana didn’t need help locating the older woman. A little spark of her magic was all she needed to sense the captain’s spirit through walls of rock and crystal. Everyone was in the training field on the other side of the grounds. With a leap, she flew up and over the domed buildings, then landed at a run across the open snow.
“Captain!”
At the sound of her voice, half the mages in the field froze—the members of her army. At the sight of Helen, water, fire, and dirt dropped out of the sky with a sudden whoosh. Panic saturated the air and their magic drained away, the sparkles at their fingertips fading. They’d been sighted using magic.
Lyana didn’t have time to soothe them. Instead, she marched to the single-winged hawk watching steadily with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
The gods, they look so much alike, Lyana thought, a pang in her chest. There was no denying Cassi was a liar and a traitor, but despite everything, Lyana needed her—not just as a spy, but also as a friend.
“When’s the last time you spoke to your daughter?”
The crew stopped dead the moment the question left her lips, their magic vanishing in the blink of an eye. As one, they turned to gape at their captain. For her part, the older woman just lifted her fingers to her forehead and smoothed out her frown lines with a sigh.
“Daughter?” Rafe spat. “Cassi is your daughter?”
“You didn’t know?” Lyana spun to face him. How could he not know? Their mannerisms, their expressions. They were so similar. Yet the realization filled his normally clear eyes with tumultuous storm clouds.
“You said you didn’t know anyone named Cassi,” he accused, stepping forward. “You said—”
“Kasiandra is the name I gave her,” the captain interjected in a tired tone. “And yes, she’s my daughter, so the lot of you can shut your mouths before the cold air freezes them open. I had a whole life of my own before I became your captain and got roped into all your messes. I don’t owe anyone any explanations, except maybe you…” She turned to Rafe. “I’ll only say this once, so listen good. I’m sorry. When you landed on my ship, I knew you’d need someone to trust, and I knew that would never be me or any of my crew if you learned the truth. Maybe I should have told you. Maybe I did the right thing. There’s no way to go back now, and everything else I ever told you was true. My king ordered me to catch a man falling from the sky, and that’s what I did. The fact that it was my daughter who pushed you over the edge changes nothing.”
“It changes something to me.”
“Be angry if you want to be.” Captain Rokaro shrugged, unfazed as the flames at Rafe’s back strengthened in response to his fury. “Kasiandra is my daughter, and like me, she’s done what she needed to do to survive. I won’t fault her for it.”
Rafe stared at the woman, his fingers curling into fists. She stared right back, expression open and somewhat sad as the breeze ruffled the fabrics entwined with her hair, highlighting that only one side of her face was framed by feathers. Their standoff was interrupted by a voice cutting across the silence.
“All right, I’m here—finally. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to fly away in the middle of a conversation?” Brighty huffed as she trudged across the field. Everyone turned toward her, prompting her to stop where she stood. An almost comedic look of uncertainty passed over her features. “What? Did I grow a second head or something? What’d I miss?”
“Captain has a daughter,” Archer offered casually.
Brighty started. “What?”
“And I think she’s the one who cut off Rafe’s wings,” Jolt added.
“What?” The photo’kine spun so fast she risked whiplash.
“And apparently she’s missing,” Pyro said.
“Magic alive, you arrive five minutes late to the party, and—” She broke off to push her fingertips into her temples as her entire face scrunched. “Is that everything?”
“I think that about sums it up,” Captain snapped, wiping the grins off all their faces. Lyana admired the woman’s ability to reprimand so many at once, and by using nothing more than subtle intonation. Cassi might have been her only blood relation, but it was clear the ship ran like a family, the crew her unruly children. One word from her and they all shrank back, chagrinned. Those icy eyes turned on Lyana, but she wasn’t afraid of reproach, because she, out of everyone here, was the only one who could feel the deep-rooted worry tangling the captain’s spirit into knots. “And to answer your question, I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. Why?”
Lyana’s heart dropped. “The House of Flight started experiencing earthquakes, and she didn’t come to tell me.”
The captain pursed her lips.
“I haven’t seen her since before the House of Paradise fell,” Lyana continued, her pulse growing more rapid as she spoke. “It’s not like her to go so long without communicating. I think—I think something’s happened.”
Captain Rokaro’s expression darkened. Neither of them spoke, but a name passed between them just the same.
Malek.
He had Cassi’s body. He had his aethi’kine magic. He was the only one in the world with the power to stop her spirit from reaching the world above.
“I’ll save her,” Lyana blurted.
“But the king—”
“Doesn’t scare me.” She took the older woman’s hands in her own and held them to her chest as soothing magic flooded from her palms. The captain tensed, as though unused to the comforting touch of another human being. “He didn’t kill her. He wouldn’t dare, not while I’m still breathing. This is a ploy, probably to get to me—”
“It’s working,” Rafe interjected.
“Maybe.” Lyana released the captain and turned to face him, hating the insecurity written in the tense clench of his teeth. “But I’m willing to take that chance.”
For Cassi.
For the world.
The truth was this moment had been unavoidable from the start. Another isle had fallen, and a third would soon, yet Lyana was no closer to figuring out the mystery of the rift. More of those creatures would be coming, and eventually Rafe wouldn’t be able to fight them off on his own. It didn’t matter who the king of prophecy was, not really. Rafe was her protector. Malek was her teacher. And she needed them both to survive.
“I’m going to Da’Kin.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“I know.” Lyana smiled and ran her fingers along the chiseled curve of Rafe’s jaw. Golden magic seeped beneath his skin and silver swirls rose to meet it as he sank into her touch, lifting his palm to cover hers. “It’s high time we face him together.”