Thirty-Three
Soraya delivered them to the summit of Mount Paedris, right where Alex and Niyx trained every morning.
Disoriented by the rescue and stunned that she had escaped from being sawed in half, it took Alex a few seconds to realise Niyx wasn’t rising; to realise his body was like a dead weight on hers.
Having arrived so unexpectedly on top of the mountain, Alex was pinned under his back, so she quickly scooted out to kneel at his side, turning him carefully over to inspect the damage. She refused to consider Aven’s words about his weapon offering a swift death. Niyx wasn’t dying. He couldn’t be.
But as he looked up at her with glassy eyes set in an alarmingly pale face, his chest covered in silver blood as he panted short, shallow breaths, Alex knew it was much worse than she had imagined.
“Soraya,” Alex gasped. “I need you to go get me—”
She didn’t have to finish her request before the wolf disappeared, reappearing a few moments later with a bunch of laendra flowers in her mouth.
Slicing through Niyx’s clothes with A’enara, Alex ripped open the bulb of a flower with her teeth, her stomach churning as she saw the full extent of his injury. Hesitating only a second at the gruesome sight, she quickly smeared the nectar on his wound, silver against silver. She opened another flower, determinedly ignoring the four claw marks already scarring his chest and the déjà vu that washed over her at their repeated positions. Gently cradling his head, she murmured encouraging words to get him to open his mouth and drink.
He did so without complaint, all the while staring at her with knowing, apologetic eyes.
She didn’t understand the look until she realised that something was wrong.
His wound—it wasn’t healing.
“Kitten, there’s nothing you can do,” he rasped out.
“No,” Alex said with a firm shake of her head. She opened another bulb and lathered more laendra over his chest, certain that the extent of the damage just meant it was taking longer than normal to see any improvement. There was no Hyroa blood involved this time—nothing that should be keeping him from healing. “N-no, Niyx. You’re going to be fine. Just give it a moment.”
“I’m not, kitten. I’m dying.’
“You are not!” Alex was unable to keep the tears from welling in her eyes as she ripped off part of her undershirt, pressing it hard against his wound to stem the flow of blood. She winced when he winced, but she was still angry enough to reply, “I’ll Claim you again myself if I have to!”
“You know that won’t work,” he said quietly—and he was right. She couldn’t share her life force again with him, since they were technically already connected.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, ignoring the full-body trembles that began shaking her frame. “You won’t need it anyway. You’ll be better any second now.”
“Aeylia, sweetheart, look at me,” Niyx said in a soft, gentle voice at odds with the pain in his amethyst eyes. It was enough to make Alex curl in on herself, but she still did as he asked and met his gaze.
Unable to keep the fear from her tone, she whispered, “Why aren’t you healing?”
His apologetic, knowing look returned, much clearer this time.
“Aven’s sword—” He stopped to hack out a horrible, gurgling cough that had Alex clutching at his torso to keep him still. “Vae’varka—it’s made from traesos, pure darkness.” He wheezed in a rasping breath. “To a Meyarin, its effects are worse than Sarnaph blood, and much swifter. Even if he’d just scratched me, it still would have been enough to—enough to—”
He started coughing again, and Alex leaned over him, dribbling more laendra into his mouth once his hacking eased. She was determined that the flower would take effect soon. It had to.
“Shhhh,” she told him, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. “Just—Just stop talking and save your strength, okay? Let the laendra work.”
He didn’t listen to her. He rarely did.
“I always knew I would die for you, kitten.”
Agony. Like a blade piercing her heart, all Alex felt at his words was pure agony.
She inhaled on a sob and ripped off more of her undershirt, switching it with the first blood-drenched wad of material as she forced words past the lump in her throat, refusing to believe that he might be right. “Quiet, Niyx.”
Again, he didn’t listen.
“I once told you that I sacrificed everything for you,” he whispered, his cold hands reaching weakly to rest atop hers on his chest, silver blood swiftly covering them both. “But you have to know, kitten, I would do it all over again for a thousand lifetimes if it meant the privilege of knowing you.”
“P-please, Niyx, s-stop talking,” Alex told him, now crying openly. “Y-you’re going t-to be f-fine.”
He coughed again, his whole torso convulsing under her hands. But even then he didn’t stop speaking. “Tell Mayra—” Another hacking breath. “Tell my sister that I love her. And that I’m sorry.”
Alex could barely see him through her tears. “T-tell her y-yourself.”
Niyx moved one blood-soaked hand until it cupped her cheek, his beautiful eyes shining as he stared up at her and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, Alexandra Jennings. So incredibly proud.”
“N-Niyx—” She choked on a sob and held his hand close to her face. “D-don’t—You c-can’t—”
His eyes unfocused and his voice faded until it was almost inaudible. “I’ll always be with you, kitten. For as long as there are stars in the sky.”
And with that, his hand became limp, his eyes drifted closed, and his chest lay still beneath her.
“N-n-no!” Alex cried, clutching at him. “P-please, Niyx! You c-can’t leave me!”
But he didn’t move. He remained still under her hands.
Lifeless.
“N-no-no-no,” Alex whispered, her voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around him, heedless of how much more blood was soaking into her clothes. “No, p-please, no!”
But no matter how much she begged, no matter how many tears she cried, she couldn’t deny the truth.
Niyx was dead.
He’d given his life to save hers, protecting her until the very end.
Alex cried over Niyx’s body for hours.
Soraya nuzzled in at her side, howling her own lament as the two of them stayed in a grieving vigil beside him while the sun swept across the sky.
Eventually the physical and emotional backlash of everything Alex had been through that weekend caught up with her, from her fight against Trell, to her abduction and torture, to the battle at Graevale, to the devastation of losing not only William and Lady Mystique, but also Niyx, someone so precious to her that she didn’t know how she would survive without him. Overwhelmed, and also with the energy boost from the haesondel having left her system, exhaustion crashed over Alex as she cried herself into a restless sleep.
When she awoke later with her body snuggled into Soraya’s heat, it was with a much clearer head. She was able to move past the paralysing force of her grief and into a state of numbness that allowed her to recognise that it would soon be dark, and even with her Myrox-lined armour and Soraya’s thick coat protecting her, she couldn’t remain out in the cold. It was time to start moving, time to find out what had happened at Graevale after they’d left, time to make sure Caspar Lennox and Soraya had delivered her friends to safety, time to discover what horrible nightmare she would have to face next.
But before she was ready to do any of that, Alex first needed to see to Niyx.
Kneeling on the icy summit of Mount Paedris, Alex dug with her bare hands until her fingers blistered, and then kept digging as the packed snow eventually gave way to rocky ground. She was numb to the pain, physically and emotionally, focused only on the single task of laying her friend to rest in a place that was special to the both of them.
If she’d thought it would be safe, she would have returned him to their spot on the Golden Cliffs overlooking Meya, the place where she’d Claimed him. But he never would have forgiven her for risking her life like that, so Mount Paedris would have to do. He liked it here, she knew, with the view looking out over the academy, looking out over Medora. Unlike in life, in death he would be free, the entire world at his feet.
With another sob tearing from her throat, Alex continued digging, quashing the emotion and allowing the numbness to take hold again as Soraya joined her, adding her wolfy claws to help scrape away at the rocky dirt.
Alex’s nails became ragged edges. Frostbite started licking at her fingers and her skin cracked open with oozing, bloodied wounds. But she didn’t stop. She kept digging with a single-minded purpose.
When the grave was deep enough, she hardened her heart to gently—so very gently—lower Niyx down into it.
Heedless of her damaged hands, she placed the remainder of the laendra flowers on his chest, covering the evidence of his unhealed wound. Looking like this, she could almost imagine he was sleeping.
In a voice so broken that Soraya gave a soft whimper at hearing it, Alex looked down at him and whispered, “I’ll never forget you, Niyx Raedon. I c-can’t—” She sucked in a quick breath and pushed through her sorrow. “I can’t imagine life without you, but I swear by your stars that I’ll do everything I can to make sure the sacrifices you made for me weren’t in vain. What you did—What you gave—I promise to make it count.”
And with her oath, Alex gazed upon Niyx’s beautiful face one last time before she began to cover him, knowing that in doing so, the world had just lost a spark of light that could never be replaced.
Alex sat by Niyx’s grave until the sun began setting properly in the sky, unable to bring herself to move just yet. But when Soraya, who had been nothing but patient and comforting for hours, started to become restless, Alex knew it was time to leave.
She had no idea where to go or what to do, her numbness having spread to every part of her being.
Incapable of making a decision, she trusted her wolf to know more than she did, and she reached out to wrap her fingers in Soraya’s ruff while whispering, “Please take me wherever I need to go.”
With an explosion of light and dark, the Shadow Wolf swept her away from Mount Paedris—away from Niyx—only to deliver her straight into the middle of the Tryllin palace’s war room.
Their new surroundings would have come as a shock if Alex had been able to feel anything through her heartache. But as it was, she could barely manage the smallest flicker of surprise as she took in those present in the room, all yelling at each other.
The human council was there, the king and queen, as well as Advisor Jaxon, all at the head of the oval table. Also in place were Commander Nisha, Jeera, Drock and Tyson—the four of them having seen better days, their skin and armour smeared with almost as much blood and grime as Alex.
There were others in the room—the three Shadow Walker elders; Kaysia of the Dayriders; Tork and Glyn of the Flips; and Mareek and Tibbs of the Jarnocks. They looked as awful as everyone else, something Alex took in with detached eyes.
The yelling ceased when her presence became noticed, and everyone turned to stare at her, watching as she swayed on the spot with Soraya protectively pressed against her side in silent, strong support.
It was Jeera who moved first, leaping out of her seat and hurrying over, ignoring Jaxon’s disgruntled murmur of, “What is she doing here?”
“Alex,” Jeera said, the relief evident in her voice. “We thought you were dead.”
Part of her was. Part of her was buried in a shallow grave on the summit of Mount Paedris.
“You’re covered in blood—are you hurt?”
She wasn’t hurt.
She was destroyed.
“I’m fine,” Alex lied softly, her throat raw from crying. “What’s going on in here?”
It was clear Jeera didn’t believe her, perhaps because she could hear the pain in Alex’s voice, or perhaps because her intuition was able to work around Alex’s free will. Either way, the young Warden was clued in enough to read that Alex didn’t want to talk about it—couldn’t talk about it—and she put a gentle, guiding hand on her shoulder.
“It wasn’t just Graevale that Aven attacked today,” Jeera said quietly as she led Alex towards the table. “He also launched consecutive strikes on Maroo and Nialas.”
Again, Alex couldn’t feel the shock of such news past the numbness consuming her very being.
“Take a seat and we’ll fill you in,” Jeera said, pulling out an empty chair beside her.
Alex did so and glanced around the table, meeting the openly concerned eyes of the king and queen, as well as the less obvious but still clearly worried gazes of Drock, Tyson and Nisha. She could only offer them a slow blink before focusing on the other races, all of whom, with the exception of Kaysia, were avoiding looking at her, almost as if they expected her to jump up and scream, “I told you so!”
But Alex was beyond caring that they hadn’t listened to her warnings. What was done, was done. There was no going back, no changing events that had already unfolded… no saving of lost lives. All they could do now was live with the consequences of their actions and try to move forward.
Clearing her scratchy throat, Alex asked, “If Aven attacked you all at once, how are you here now?” She kept her eyes on the elders and Kaysia and said, “Last I saw, Aven wasn’t about to retreat, not at least from Graevale.”
It was Drock who answered, his gruff voice almost comforting to her ears. “We all saw what happened with you, kid. We saw Aven swing his kill stroke. His Meyarins closed ranks before we could watch him make contact, but the roar he let loose was so loud we were sure it must have been in triumph.” His voice lowered. “It’s good to see we were wrong.”
“Everything happened quickly after that,” Tyson jumped in. “It was like Aven and his army decided to up and leave on a whim. One minute they were there, fighting—and winning— and the next they were gone.” He paused. “We presumed it was because you were dead and Aven wanted to go and bask in his victory.”
Alex more than anyone could understand their presumption, just as she knew they were now seeking an explanation.
She ran her hands along the sleek coat of Soraya who was resting on her haunches by Alex’s side, the protective position making her as tall as those seated around the table. “Soraya shadowed me away just before Aven…” She trailed off, not needing to finish, not able to finish, since it wasn’t just her who Soraya had delivered to safety.
But Alex wouldn’t think about that. Alex couldn’t think about that. And she let the numbness dig like nails deeper into her core.
“As far as we can tell,” Nisha said, picking up the story after realising Alex wasn’t going to share more, “the moment Aven and his forces left Graevale was the same moment his attacks on Maroo and Nialas ceased as well.”
“They is come. They is kill. They is go,” Tibbs said, shaking his bald head. “Bad, they is. Bad, bad, bad. Many Jarnocks die today.”
“We each had to see to our people before anything else,” Tork said quietly, the horror of whatever the Flip had witnessed both during and after the attack still fresh in his eyes. “It took many hours before we could come together here, yet none of us should be away from our cities for long. We are needed there now more than ever. But before we part ways, we must agree on a course of action.”
“Read us note,” Mareek said to King Aurileous.
Queen Osmada placed a comforting hand on her husband’s forearm as he opened a scrolled piece of Silverwood parchment and read the words aloud. Alex struggled to process what she was hearing, and it wasn’t until Aurileous passed the scroll to her that she fully realised what she was now holding.
It was a letter.
And it was from Aven.
To the mortals of Medora —
Today has offered a taste of what lies in store for your future. I showed leniency, ending the battles so swiftly, but this war has only just begun.
From here on out, I will show no mercy.
And when I am done, none shall survive my wrath.
If you seek to lay blame for your coming destruction, look no further than to she whom you consider your only hope.
But know this: Alexandra Jennings cannot save you.
No one can.
A new day is coming, swift on the wings of dawn.
—King Aven Dalmarta
Alex read the note three times before she was able to look up, finding all eyes on her again. She waited for the questions, waited for the interrogation, waited for the time when she would only offer silence in response, so far past being willing to explain. But that time didn’t come. Because Jeera spoke up before anyone else could.
“None of this comes as a surprise,” the Warden said. “Alex already warned us that Aven has a personal vendetta against all mortals, and he obviously has a deep-rooted hatred for her in particular. Of course he’s going to lay the blame on her.”
Nisha nodded and continued on from her niece, “Aven’s actions today were to incite terror amongst us, and his letter is a means to create dissent when what we need is to stand strong against this threat—and to stand together.”
“You’ve all seen the destruction he is capable of first-hand,” King Aurileous said. “It is my belief—” He broke off, then indicated to the other humans in the room. “It is our belief that the only way we will have a chance at overcoming him is if we unite as one. An alliance of the races.”
With that, Alex couldn’t take any more. Despite her earlier acceptance that there was no taking back what had already happened, she so wished they would have listened to her. Then they would have been having this conversation long before Aven’s attack. And maybe—maybe Niyx—
Alex pushed away her line of thought and shoved back her chair, causing all eyes to swing her way again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a dull monotone, the only thing she could manage. “I asked Soraya to take me where I needed to be, but I think I’ve heard enough for now, and I can’t imagine that you need me here while you hash out the details of whatever alliance you agree to.” She swallowed against her tear-dry throat. “I’d appreciate if someone could fill me in on your plans after they’re finalised, but for now, I need to—I need to—” Alex didn’t know how to finish, because what she truly needed wasn’t possible. “I need to return to the academy and check on my friends.”
She didn’t care if she had their permission to leave, since she’d never had their permission to arrive, but she still received nods of agreement from the king and queen, as well as Nisha. Jeera reached out to squeeze her arm, but Alex felt too cold—too numb—to feel it.
“Take it easy, kid,” Drock told her. “And rest up. You look like—”
She would never know what he was about to say, since Azalia interrupted in a whisper-soft voice, the only Shadow Walker to speak since Alex had arrived.
All she offered were six words, but they spoke volumes.
“For what it’s worth, we’re sorry.”
Clenching her jaw against snapping back in the face of the apology, Alex merely nodded her head and reached out for Soraya.
She didn’t have to give the wolf a command before they disappeared in a blur of lightning and shadows, heading back to the academy.