Page 45 of Ignite
“In devoting ourselves to keeping them safe, she allowed for everyone here to keep their wyverns even after the others were sent to sleep.” Willow’s eyes soften. “We haven’t beenhiding awayhere. We’ve been watching over Eurydice’s blessing to our kind, guarding them and guiding them.”
I swallow. Their secretive nature makes far more sense now.
They haven’t been ignoring the return of the wyverns; they were the ones who kept them safe all this time—the ones who awoke them so they could come to the rest of the fae.
An understanding settles between the group, the remaining hesitation toward trusting them fading away.
But how does that help us find the dagger?
“What does this have to do with Nightfall?” I press.
“Eurydice didn’t simply trust us with the wyverns,” Aster answers, a crease forming in his brow. “When Eurydice appeared to Willow and I to watch over the wyverns, she gave us a warning—one we didn’t understand because we had no way of acting on it.”
Confusion ripples through me.
“No way of acting on what?” Calix asks, his voice hesitant.
Aster looks to him, a deep frown forming on his face. “Of surviving to get to where Nightfall is.”
My heart sinks, and I already know what she’s going to say before the words come out of her mouth. There’s only one reason they wouldn’t survive getting to where it is, one singular reason that would stop them from retrieving the blade.
Willow’s gaze darkens as she whispers, “Nightfall is in Crea.”
Eighteen
Alexandrite
The four wordsI didn’t want to hear settle throughout the room.
“Nightfall is in Crea.”
My muscles clench in my stomach.
We don’t have a way to get to Crea. The curse separates us from crossing into its lands, keeping us firmly in Penyth. If it’s there, how do we have any hope of getting it?
“Crea?” Leda questions. “So you’re saying we should count our losses with it helping us.”
Someone answers, voices rising over one another, but I can’t stop hearing the wordCreaover and over, like a drum banging against my chest.
Crea.
The place that held the house that was never a home. I hated it while I was there—still do. From the miserable trainingcamp and the men that filled it to the rain that turned everything to mud most seasons.
But it was also the place that brought me to Linnick and Opal—even Dog. Though the good memories are limited, they’re stillthere. Laughing with Linnick in the market as we played pretend, sitting with Opal and Dog by the stream along the back side of camp.
Though, like most things there, the good never lasts. Crea is the kind of realm that takeseverythingit gives. It’s only been a place filled with pain for me. Linnick died in the castle, right under my nose. Dog is goddess knows where, and Opal…
Opal was pushed into a marriage with the very man we’re trying to stop. She’smarriedto that monster. When I left her in Crea, she decided to stay, but we didn’t know who Duke Wyman truly was then.
There was always something off about him—the use of dark magic at Adrian’s coronation and the way he whispered into King Avalon’s ear constantly…but never did I imagine him to be truly, deeply evil.
Never did I think he could be the last human king, still alive and breathing and puppeteering Adrian to do what he wants. He has Crea right where he wants it, has shifted himself back into power just as he had in Penyth.
“Weneedthe dagger,” Aster pushes. “How do we expect to win against Vidaris if we don’t have a way to kill her? Getting to Crea is the only way to get it.”
Voices rise again as Leda and Calix question them, demanding to know why they think the dagger is in Crea. Their answers jumble together with my thoughts, numbing my ears.
My knees weaken, and I slowly sink back to the cot.
