Both young men snapped and thumped their black-gloved fists to their chests. Their boots stamped on the thin rug as they disappeared down the hall.
“They’re soldiers, not pages.” James’s reminder held no heat. He was lost in his own grief.
I sank into the chair Prince Colin had abandoned.
Pale sunlight angled through the windows as dawn broke. Dust motes drifted through the bands of light, and I mourned the lives my friends would never get to have.
Connor would never become the greatest healer the world had ever known.
Carl would never learn to use his incredible stealth for the good of the kingdom.
Theresa would never have the chance to show that behind her quiet facade, there was a strong, compassionate leader ready to right injustices.
Kevin would never have a chance to put his sharp mind to use in a real council meeting.
The night Patrick announced Quinn and Ezra had died, I’d sworn to Connor and Theresa that we’d build memorials and hold days of remembrance. Not just for Quinn and Ezra, but for those who’d gone before.
They’d never know when I made good on those promises, or that the same would hold for them.
So many Ospreys had died in our struggle with the Indigo Kingdom. And now the wraith had taken more.
And wasn’t it all because of the wraith to begin with?
“It’s taken everything from us.” My whisper drew Melanie’s and James’s eyes. “The war that took our families happened because of the wraith. Radiants became flashers because of the wraith. Our friends are dead because of the wraith. It will take Aecor, too, unless I stop it.”
“How will you do that?” Melanie asked.
Paige, Oscar, and Ronald arrived, saving me from having to admit I didn’t know. “Sit,” I instructed, and they obeyed.
The boys had on their Queen’s Guard uniforms, though they weren’t on duty for another three hours. Later, I’d make a formal announcement for the city and kingdom. I’d write letters to the rulers of Laurel-by-the-Sea and the remaining Wraith Alliance kingdoms, though most seemed to have closed themselves off. But right now, my friends needed me to be strong. They needed not for me to make this right, but to make this make sense.
“The Indigo Kingdom has fallen. Our friends there are presumed dead.”
Their expressions shifted from disbelief to horror to grief. Paige let out a small groan of despair, and Melanie moved to comfort her.
“Before I give you the few details I have, I want you to know this: I will do everything in my power to stop the wraith from taking any more of our friends.”
THIRTY-FIVE
CHRYSALIS STOOD IN the doorway, shoulders hunched so his jacket hung awkwardly over his narrow frame. “You didn’t come to see me this morning.”
“Sorry.” Not really. Sort of. “I’ve been busy all day.” After meetings and announcements and attempting to comfort people when all I wanted to do was hide in my room, I was exhausted. My stomach ached with the hollow sensation of hunger; I’d skipped breakfast and lunch, but when I’d finally sat down to dinner, I couldn’t force myself to eat more than a couple of bites.
Cold prickled over my skin, numbing me as night fell.
The wraith boy opened the door wider to let me into his storage room, and I motioned for James and Melanie to wait in the hall. They nodded and bowed their heads together to talk as the door swung shut behind me.
Hands clasped at his chest, the wraith boy gave me his most imploring gaze. “It’s not for you to apologize to me. Maybe I wasn’t good enough—”
“Chrysalis.” That sounded empty. I tried again. “Chrysalis. It wasn’t you.”
Not specifically. But he was wraith. His good behavior lately didn’t negate his nature. He was destructive.
His small room challenged that assertion, though. Books in neat stacks lined the space, and his bed—a simple pallet of padding and blankets—was made up, with piles of folded clothes sitting on top. That part was easy, though, since he never slept, and he preferred the tattered clothes he’d worn since the beginning.
The space was stuffy and hot, but I wasn’t ready to let the wraith boy out. I didn’t want to remind anyone of his presence. People hadn’t forgotten the night of my arrival here, or the battle on Snowhaven Bridge, but if he was out of sight, he was less of a liability.
“I need to ask you something,” I said. “I need you to answer me honestly.”
“Always.” His eyes shone. “I’m so glad you have questions for me.”
“Wraith has flooded the Indigo Valley. Skyvale is gone. The rest of the Indigo Kingdom won’t be far behind. Maybe a few years. Maybe a few months.”
His voice turned darker. “Maybe not even as long as that.”
“Is there a way to stop the wraith from advancing?”
He shook his head. “There is no way to stop it forever. Your barrier might slow it for a time, but wraith doesn’t like being contained.”