A Court of Flame and Reckoning

Forty-Three

—
Nyx
—

After a few more days of training and helping Uncle Cassian and his commanders transfer faebane weapons to an unused storage facility in New Whilhelm, the group of us are finally making the last trek to the small town.

Elain and Amren were the only ones to stay behind. The former to watch my baby sister and the latter to watch over Velaris and the rest of the court while we're gone.

We decided to fly in order to save our power for the battle ahead, much to Anya's delight. For the next Winter Solstice I'll have to have Madja craft some anti-nausea medication for Anya so that she can handle winnowing.

The heavy flap of everyone's wings—paired with the low and steady whistle of the wind, is almost calming to the senses. If it weren't for the looming chaos of death that we're sure to face soon enough, I might have even enjoyed this perfectly sunny day with Anya in my arms.

Anya, who's sound asleep—even snoring a little as I catch a wind current that shoots me forward towards Mom and Dad. She hasn't been sleeping well these past few days. I know she's anxious for battle. I am too, but I wouldn't dare let any harm come to her...and I know she would do the same for me.

It's almost bewildering how fast Anya swept into my life—how perfect and strong she is despite everything she's had to overcome. My heart cracks a little in this moment as I remember Kari—how that bright soul left us too quickly. Kari should've lived. She should've been here in Velaris. Or back home in her village with her parents.

Her parents. Gods.

"You alright?" Dad's voice floats through the crack in my mental shields—concern lacing his tone.

Swallowing thickly, I flick my gaze over to him before looking straight ahead. "Just thinking about Kari."

My dad's sadness comes in a thick wave. "I was thinking about her too. She was too young."

I grit my teeth and blink my tears away as I look down at Anya's sleeping form, but I don't respond to Dad. There's nothing else to say. Only dreams that would go unanswered by whatever Gods watch over us. Fate is a wicked bitch.

The first signs of New Whilhelm come into view in the distance. To my right, Aunt Nesta, Aunt Gwyn, and Emerie shoot ahead of us on their pegasi—gifted to them by Helion a few Winter Solstices ago. The three of them, along with Uncle Azriel, land in the thick forest on the outskirts of town. The rest of us wait in the air until Dad gives us the signal to descend.

Once I land in the tall, green, grass, I gently shake Anya awake. She jolts upright in my arms, sending an elbow to my face before she realizes what's going on. Acting quickly, I angle my head to the side to dodge her attack. She hits the side of my neck, then freezes as I let out a deep chuckle. "I thought you were done hating me, human."

Anya spins to face me once she's standing on the ground. "Don't hold your breath, faerie." She glares at me, but her brown eyes sparkle with amusement—telling a whole different story.

I grin like a child. She loves me.

Everyone else lands, the sound drawing Anya's focus as we walk towards the edge of the woods, then turn right—letting the dense trees shield our appearance to the humans as we walk towards Queen Vassa's occasional home.

I know she built this place not too long after her husband died. I think a part of her needed to be here even though her castle is back in the Mortal Lands just under Prythian. I'm sure it reminds her of King Jurian...and I'm sure she finds some sort of peace being around the hard-working humans that he gave his life for.