Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(106)

I didn’t bother looking up. Gazing at the stars and moons from the ground was kind of overrated after flying amongst them. Instead, I watched the young girl and her mother, thinking of the numerous times I’d sat on the edge of this very fountain with my own mum.

“Caltevyn named that cluster Ryn’s flame,” the mother said. “Because of her and Tyrrik’s sacrifice, we are free.”

Extra points to Cal for not calling me Tyrryn. Glad to see that one hadn’t followed me to the fake grave.

“The one on the top looks blue,” the little girl said, swinging her feet off the edge of the fountain as she pointed. The child stared up at the night sky with wide-eyed intensity. Her auburn curls had escaped her braid, and the wisps framed her face, catching the moonlight.

“Yes. That’s why our king chose it. Blue was the color of her fire.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes. Clambering up, she stretched, just managing to touch the stem of the welded flower inlaid in the middle of the stone pillar. “I thought Lord Dyter said Ryn didn’t breathe fire. And why didn’t Tyrrik get a bunch of stars?”

I’d like to know that too, my mate thought gruffly, making me snicker.

“I’m sure he helped,” the mother muttered, “He kept her safe from Irdelron, so he wasn’t all bad. But he caused a lot of harm around here . . . for a very long time.” She took a deep breath and kissed the young girl’s head. “Come now, it’s time for bed.”

“That’s dumb,” the young girl huffed and slid off the fountain edge. “Ryn made tyrs. And that’s the start of Tyrrik’s name. She must’ve loved him a lot to make flowers for him. I think he was good.”

I like that kid, Tyrrik said. They’re not all that smart.

I bit my lip to stop from laughing. The girl’s mother ambled toward the opposite edge of the courtyard. The young girl scampered after her but stopped at the entrance of the alleyway and turned back to look at the night sky.

As she looked down, a sudden notion struck me, and I stepped from the shadows, dropping the veil as I dragged Tyrrik with me.

The girl startled at the sight of us, squeaking. I heard her gasp as she looked at the stars again and then down at us.

I held my finger to my lips and winked.

Her eyes widened.

Would it be cooler to shift and take off? I asked my mate. Or to blur out of here?

“Arwyn!” the girl’s mother called.

The girl glanced over her shoulder and half turned. But rotating back she lifted her hand and, with a shy smile, waved.

Tyrrik and I waved back.

I crossed the now empty courtyard and jumped up onto the lip of the fountain. Chest bursting, I brushed my hand over the welded flower and then looked to the night sky to the blue star, blowing a kiss to my beautiful mother. I love you, Mum.

Then I got down to business.

Prying the welded flower from the stone without bending the metal was difficult, but I’d had a lot of practice in Gemond; the metal tyr would be the crowning treasure of my hoard.

You’re taking that? Tyrrik asked, his shoulders shaking.

I covered their kingdom with flowers; I get this one.

The welded flower came free, and I leaped back down, glaring at my hooting mate. With a deep breath, I peered once more around the empty town square. I’m glad we came here. I feel settled somehow. Like what we’re doing is the right thing.

You still had doubts?

I lifted a shoulder. Sure. A little. But I was determined to embrace life—all of it.

And you shall. I’m glad we came, too. Now, I don’t have to pretend to stay asleep when you fly here at night. He kissed my forehead, and before I could protest something we both knew was true, he added, We should get going so we can reach the forest in time.

“In time for what?”

He paused. “A surprise.”

“Is the surprise revealing ourselves to people who think we’re dead?” I asked.

“No.”

“A huge diamond carved in your likeness?”

His lips curved. “I’m afraid not, my love. Don’t bother trying to guess.”

Pretty sure I’d spend the entire journey to the forest doing so. A thrill shot through me, and I exhaled, a slow smile crossing my face. We’re going to be part of this realm, live among the people and make things better.

We are, Tyrrik answered, reaching for my hand. And you will inspire many to do the same.

I gave his hand a squeeze, the welded flower safe in my other hand.

Letting go of residual fear was hard.

But residual was all that was left. I’d fought my horrors, and I’d won.

I’d conquered my fear.





Epilogue





Those who knew we existed were small in number but integral in the restoration of our realm: Lani, Kamini, Caltevyn, Zakai, and of course, Dyter.

Tyrrik and I circled the middle of the Zivost, my stomach a bundle of nerves. Lani didn’t bother to keep the gold veil up these days. No point when there was a treaty between our kinds. That, and I could get through the veil anyway. My Drae ears made it impossible to ignore the gasps and screams from the Phaetyn below as we descended. The gaping Phaetyn pressed back to the outer edges, trampling each other. I chose to believe they were giving us space to land.

“They’re alive—”