Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 52

C HAPTER 52

GAbrIEL

T he sky flashes with silver lightning against dark grey clouds. This has been happening for the past hour, but this storm brings us no rain, only a thick sense of foreboding.

A note arrived yesterday from Nadir confirming they had all the rulers together and that they’d be destroying the arks today.

I sense we’re witnessing the outcome of that act.

“They’re killing her,” Tyr says from where he stands at the edge of the water.

He’s shirtless, wearing only his breeches. Now I see how pale he is, how much the lack of sunlight has stolen from him. Once strong and muscled, he’s now lean and rangy, like a rag doll that’s had all its stuffing removed .

I keep an eye on him from a short distance, not entirely trusting him to stay safe. I wake up in a cold sweat every night, sure he’s escaped his room and done the unthinkable. I’ve had everything he could use to hurt himself removed from his room, but I worry constantly.

He looks over at me. “They’re destroying the arks.” The sound carries over the crashing waves and the wind. He knows I’m there, always watching.

I dip my chin as Tyr opens his fist and stares at it.

He’s struggling with his magic. The arcturite stole it from him. Or rather, Atlas did. Atlas, who still languishes in his cell, raging at stone walls as his actions continue to haunt us all. I made the call regarding his execution days ago but can’t seem to bring myself to follow through on it. Soon, I will have no choice. I can’t continue delaying forever.

Nadir’s note also said they’d confirmed the best way to destroy the arks is with a strong blast of Aphelion Imperial magic, and that worries me too.

How will it affect Lor and Nadir’s plans if Tyr can’t summon enough power? What happens to Ouranos and to all of us? The rumblings in the earth are becoming more and more frequent. Another earthquake hit part of the coast yesterday and things are getting worse. At the same time, the temperature keeps climbing, and though we should be in the middle of winter, it feels like the height of summer.

“How long has he been standing there?” Erevan asks as he comes up beside me.

“An hour or so,” I say as lightning flashes again. “They’re destroying the arks. ”

Erevan studies the sky with an unreadable expression on his face.

“How was Atlas?” I ask. Though I refused to visit him again, Erevan had some questions he wanted answered.

“The same,” he says, and I look over.

“Did you find anything out?”

He nods. “He gave me the names of those who helped him escape.”

“And?” I ask when he pauses.

Erevan folds his arms and rubs his face. “He confessed that his power doesn’t always work on the low fae.”

My breath exhales sharply in a puff of disbelief. Suddenly, so many things make sense. Atlas, who has always been so fucking insecure about his magic, has proven yet again he was always beyond hope.

“ That’s why he did all this?”

“He was terrified of being discovered.”

I don’t know what to say. Atlas used the existing prejudice against the low fae and ensured their words and opinions would carry no weight, all to protect his fortress of lies and his ego.

I’ve been delaying the execution, but this revelation sweeps away the last shred of doubt I was holding on to just in case. There will be no redemption. There is no room to escape this anymore.

“Are you planning to keep watching him like this?” Erevan asks me a moment later, gesturing to Tyr.

I let out a sigh.

“What else should I do?”

He shakes his head .

“Erevan . . .” I look at him. “I know you don’t want to discuss this, but we must.”

He runs a hand over his head, his golden curls tossing in the wind.

“He wants to go. But he wants to destroy the ark first. He’s gotten it into his head that he has to see this done. He feels like he’s been useless for so long. This gives him the chance to do something. And he won’t descend until you’re ready.”

Erevan says nothing as he squints into the sun, his gaze sweeping over the churning blue ocean. More silver flashes over the sky, and if I listen carefully, I swear I can hear a scream.

“We might need your magic to help destroy it.”

I say the words tentatively.

“I’m not using my magic until the low fae are permitted to do so as well,” he says, and I sigh because I knew he would say that.

“Erevan—”

He cuts me off. “You know, the day he told me the Mirror had chosen me, I saw my entire life go up in flames. It was the death of every freedom I’d ever had. It meant I could no longer fight for what I believed in.”

“But why does it have to be that way?” I ask. “If you were king, you could make all the changes you’ve been fighting to win for so long. Why are you hesitating?”

“I won’t, though,” Erevan says. “If I’m king, then I’ll always have to find a middle ground. I’ll have to make decisions that appease the council enough to keep them from attempting to undermine me while I do what I can to ensure the populace stays happy.”

He takes a long breath.

“Being the ruler of Aphelion means compromising on my principles just enough that it will seem like I’m doing something when, in truth, I’m doing nothing at all. The council won’t support all of my ideas. So I’ll make some lukewarm promises they’ll pat themselves on the back for, and nothing important will actually change.”

“So what’s the answer?” I ask. “Tyr can’t keep doing this much longer, Erevan. I thought he might come back to us someday, but I don’t think he even wants that anymore. I think he’s ready to go, and I don’t know how much longer he can keep hanging on. If you don’t ascend and take your place, then what happens? Aphelion is left without a ruler, and . . .”

I trail off. I don’t know what will happen. Anarchy. Chaos.

My gaze wanders in the other direction to the dark haze of smoke hanging in the sky. We’re already wallowing in the pits of chaos. The low fae and their supporters continue looting and rioting, and the longer this continues, the further we slide into a place from which we can never return.

“Erevan,” I say. “They’re tearing the city apart. How much longer until we can no longer recover?”

He shakes his head, his gaze following the same direction as mine.

“I don’t know, Gabe,” he says. “We made this bed. We allowed all of this to happen. We lived in luxury while we forced living, breathing beings to suffer for one man’s sins. All of us are responsible for that.”

He looks at me, and I see the conviction in his eyes.

“Maybe the answer is to let it all fucking burn.”

Then he glances at Tyr before he pins me with a dark look, turns around, and walks away.