Queen of Stars and Shadows (Dark Fae Guardian #3)

Sarielle

Chapter Two

Sarielle

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to focus. My thoughts spin like broken bits of glass inside a kaleidoscope. How could I have been so na?ve, to think everything would work out?

No, things are even worse now.

Merla is dead.

Avonia has turned my one ally, the Court of Memory, against me, moving me even further from reclaiming my throne.

I’m locked into a bargain with a demon I don’t know how I’m possibly going to get out of.

And now the thing I feared most has happened. As my family book had warned, Zyren has gone mad. Because of the nightmare blood we both possess, and the love we share, which was never meant to be. Horror and guilt and heartbreak war within me so violently it causes physical pain, as if my chest is collapsing in on itself.

But through the crush of emotions raging inside me, I abruptly realize something else. I can feel Astherius. As if some sort of tether connects us, a connection between her and my inner nightmare, which stirs slightly in my core.

“Sarielle, are you okay?” Owyn asks, his voice laced with worry.

I open my eyes to find three pairs staring back at me. “No. There are so many things wrong that I don’t know how I can possibly fix them all.” I take in a deep breath and let it back out again. “But I do know where to find Astherius.”

Zara and Asher shoot me puzzled looks.

“The monster,” I explain. “Nightmare, rather.”

They exchange a glance, contemplating.

“I’ll prove myself trustworthy, because I need your help,” I say. “I need all the help I can get. Let me get Astherius back here, and—”

There’s a high-pitched shriek and then a half-dozen nightmares pour through the rift.

I watch in horror as they spin in the sky, taking in their surroundings before diving for me and the others. Avonia clearly sent them after us—the rift over the Court of Memory was too high in the sky for anyone else to follow, but winged nightmares certainly could.

They range in size from a large dog to a horse, all shades of night from black to brown to purple. They’re not as big as Astherius, but they all have rows of deadly-sharp teeth and claws like daggers, and most of them have barbed tails, too. Their glowing eyes lock onto me with hatred as they drop from the sky with murderous intent.

Zara and Asher don’t hesitate. They pull their weapons and face the enemy with no sign of fear. Zara whirls back and forth, her body emitting wisps of shadow like Zyren’s when he fights. She seems unnaturally fast, becoming a mere blur at times, slicing wings and limbs as she moves. Asher stands still, one hand raised, his sword at his side, and as the first nightmare approaches him, his magic flares and the thing falls dead. A glow separates from its corpse and moves into his body, and I realize with a shudder that he devoured its life force.

I call on my own magic so I can break free of these bonds. But instead of the enormous rush of energy I usually feel, like the whole night sky lit with lightning and thunder, I feel only a small pulse of power. Like the light of a candle compared to a wildfire. Are the magical bonds suppressing my power? Panic spikes through my veins. I’m sitting here helpless in the midst of a battle. Owyn, too.

Three of the nightmares are already on the ground, dead or dying, but there are three left. And as I watch, another three come shooting through the rift, circling overhead. Zara and Asher are holding their own, but I’m not sure how long they can do that if more nightmares keep coming through the rift. As if sensing my vulnerability, one of the nightmares breaks free from the others and dives toward me. Zara and Asher are too far away to help, and no doubt a stranger isn’t their priority right now.

I can see my death glinting in the eyes of the thing as its black wings flare out and its claws aim for my heart. Some wild instinct in that moment pulses out of me, and I send a scream for help through my connection to my nightmare. Astherius!

A moment later a massive shadow looms behind my attacker, and Astherius lands with a boom, plucking the other nightmare from the sky with her teeth and shaking it violently until it falls limp. She lets out a terrifying roar that splits the sky, and the two remaining nightmares shriek and fly back through the rift.

They will not return , she says in my mind, her tone satisfied.

Thank you , I respond.

We are bonded now, queen. I will not tolerate challenges to what is mine.

And by mine she means me . For a moment, I blink, thinking through the implications, but I realize it feels right. Astherius bonded to me when I overpowered her with my magic before traveling through the rift. Now, it seems, she respects me. I bear the title of Queen of Nightmares, and for the first time, I feel like I actually deserve it.

About those ropes…if I eat those that placed them on you, the magic will likely wear off …

That’s not necessary , I say hastily. I will reason with them. But I need you to stay here while I find Zyren.

She shoots me a disappointed look, whether because I won’t let her eat our new companions, or because I’m leaving her, I’m not sure.

I manage to sit up, which sends another jolt of pain through my shoulder. “Astherius is going to guard the rift,” I say, looking back and forth between Zara and Asher.

“We never agreed to that,” Asher says, narrowing his coppery-brown eyes.

“Well, someone has to make sure nothing else comes through.” I pin him in my gaze, pivoting it to Zara in turn. “And someone has to find Zyren. Do you have a better idea?”

“There’s always the option to drop you off with the royal guard in the capital of Eldare,” Zara says with a shrug. “It’s not far from here.”

That news surprises me—if we’re that close to the capital of Eldare, that means we’re close to where I grew up in the Amethyst Palace. I shake my head and return my focus to the more important task at hand. “You don’t want to do that. You’re going to need me for the battle to come. And you’re going to need Zyren, too.”

“What battle?” Asher growls. A wave of power roils off him, and I remember how he sucked the life force from the nightmares.

“I told you, I’ll share everything, but it’s a long story.” I sigh.

It seems we aren’t going anywhere without getting that out of the way, so I tell them.

I begin with my childhood in the Amethyst Palace, from being left as an infant on the doorstep, to being raised by the coriata and the High Priest. How in my teens, I began to dream of a dark warrior, and how he visited me each night. How I grew to have strange power in my dreams. And how on the night I was to become High Priestess, that same warrior spirited me away to another realm entirely. Valaron. Where, as it ended up, I was destined to be Queen.

I tell them how Zyren and I fought our way back to the Court of Nightmares. My cheeks darken when I think of how we betrayed the king… our night in the meadow… and I keep that part to myself, as I do the part where Jonavus grew enraged at our betrayal and promised to torture me the rest of my days. I tell them the parts they need to know—how Avonia killed King Jonavus and stole the throne, and how Zyren and I had to marry, the joining of House Otreyas and House Lyonian that was required to reinforce the spell that kept the nightmares locked in their territory, away from the rest of the realm.

There are frowns of dismay when I share how somehow Avonia found a way to fracture the spell, bringing nightmares beyond their borders even so. And how after many harrowing weeks fighting our way to the Court of Memory, the magic of the realm growing more unstable every day as Avonia brought through more nightmares, she caught up to us yet again, with a very much alive King Jonavus at her side due to necromancy and the dark arts.

“We escaped, barely, forcing our way through the rift she created with her magic. And the rest, you know.” Finishing my tale sends another spike of grief through me. Because Zyren is a part of everything I am, everything I’ve become. And now, I’ve lost him.

“Not all of us escaped,” Owyn whispers, his eyes filled with pain.

Tears form at the corners of my eyes at the thought of sweet Merla, who sacrificed herself so we could get away. So much loss. I feel selfish for forgetting what Owyn is going through now, too caught up in my own problems.

Silence falls for several long moments.

“That’s quite a story,” Asher says.

“And what exactly is this rift? How did it get here?” Zara asks, pointing at the glowing slash in the sky above the meadow.

“Whatever Avonia is doing to release nightmares from behind their magical barrier, despite the spell Zyren and I renewed, it is dark and unnatural beyond even the magic the nightmares possess,” Owyn explains. “So unnatural that it’s creating these rifts between realms and causing earthquakes and other phenomenon like day and night changing places.”

My lips press into a thin, grim line. “She’s tearing Valaron apart, literally fracturing the walls between worlds, but she doesn’t seem to care.”

Zara and Asher exchange a long look, and then Zara nods. “We believe you, and we’ll help you find your husband and stop Avonia, if we can. But first, we need your help.”

I cock my head to the side. “Oh?”

“We came to this part of Eldare because a number of people have gone missing,” Asher says. “Something seems to be taking them in the middle of the night.”

My heart stops. Like the dream I’d had of my friend Lilette the night before. All the rooms in the Amethyst Palace empty, and signs of struggle, of people ripped from their beds.

“Of course.” I nod sharply. “We’ll help however we can.”

“It sounds like we have an accord,” Zara says. She steps forward, removes our bonds, and offers a hand for us to shake. “Allies.”

“Allies,” I repeat.