It hasn't been long since we fled from home.
There's still no trace of my brother. He vanished into the fog during the coronation, and I never had the chance to look for him. The crown is gone too—and with it, the strength and protection of the fae.
Without the crown's power, Valeithor's people are defenseless. The dark creatures will soon take over, or so Ash said. I've never faced anything like them before. I rarely ever crossed the wall that separates the forest from the rest of the realm.
We've been walking for days now. Lia walks ahead of me, so I don't lose sight of her. I can tell she's weakening with every step, but until we cross the forest that lies between the two kingdoms, there's no safe shelter where we can rest. Thankfully, Lavern is with us, doing her best to turn whatever the forest offers into something that almost tastes like food.
"What will you do once we reach the elven kingdom?" Ash's voice broke my thoughts as he caught up with me in a few long strides.
"I'll have to ask the Elven King for help," I said. "He's bound by the same oath as the others—the one sworn over the Six Crowns."
"You really think he can find what's been lost?"
"I'm hoping he can."
Ash's gaze drifted forward. "Once we set foot in Haraith, Igni and I will go our own way."
"Fine," I said quietly, then hesitated. "But until then, I need your help. For my sister's sake… please."
He glanced toward Lia. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something that looked like pity.
"All right," he said at last. "I'll help you."
Since the beginning of time, there have been six kingdoms: Valeithor—the realm of the fae; Haraith—the land of the elves; Nytheris—the underwater domain of the merfolk; Crysalon—the kingdom of the werewolves; Velmora—the home of the nymphs; and finally, Kharadel—the shadow realm of demons.
The six kings had lived in peace, dividing the Great Crown into six parts so that each would guard one. But now that the fae crown has been stolen, I'm certain that our closest ally, Haraith, must already have heard the news.
By the time the sun began to sink behind the hills, we found shelter inside a hollow in the side of a grassy mound.
"I'll go gather firewood," I said. That task had become mine over the last few days; everyone carried their share of duties, and I didn't want to be the exception.
I had just finished gathering the last few sticks when I realized how far I'd strayed from the others. I turned to head back—then froze. A rustle came from the nearby bushes. Then another. And another. My heart pounded as I started to run, but before I could get far, something sharp pierced my back.
The pain was blinding. I fell to the ground, gasping, and the attacker stepped on my wing, pinning me down. Hot, thick blood trickled onto the soil like honey. My vision blurred, fading at the edges. Then—suddenly—someone crashed into the dark figure, tackling him to the ground. The man fell with a thud, a dagger buried deep in his chest.
Before everything went black, I felt strong arms lift me off the ground.
"Hold on. I'm taking you back," a rough voice said.
It was Ash.
Even as I drifted into unconsciousness, his voice echoed in my mind, low and steady, until darkness swallowed everything.