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.