Epilogue
ELSEWHERE ON COEURÎLE...
hen the first Crown climbed the Temple steps, Auralie Bellator’s heart nearly burst with joy.W For eight months, she had been hiding out on this awful island, living in solitude among the shadows of her past and counting every passing day. Finally, her patience was coming to fruition. In a matter of hours, gods willing, she would be wrapped in her husband’s arms and holding her two precious children close once more.
The time away from her family had been a torment. She had woken up every morning with their names on her lips, and fallen into dreams every night with their faces burned into her thoughts. Perhaps if she had known how long she would be gone, she might have reconsidered her mission, or at least taken the risk of telling them her plan.
She wondered where they were now. Did they still believe her to be alive—did they hold out hope for her return? The thought of the happiness on their faces when she walked back through the door of their humble cottage on the marsh brought a wide smile to her lips.
They would be angry, of course. She was prepared to face their resentment and their demands for answers. She could only hope they would eventually come to understand how important this mission had been, how necessary their sacrifice for the greater good.
Another Crown emerged at the top of the Temple steps, and Auralie’s heart skipped a beat.
So close. She was so close to going home.
She leaned as far out of the brush as she dared, straining to make out which Crowns were present. Her eyes watered and burned under the bright sunlight. Over the past months, she had become nocturnal, moving under the cover of night to avoid being spotted by the army ships just off the island’s shores. She silently cursed herself for not taking a few days to let her vision readjust to the strength of the midday sun.
She sank back into the cover of the tall grass and closed her eyes. She took a mental tour across the island, retracing her steps over the last few months to confirm no evidence of her identity could have been left behind. After today, the Crowns would be scouring the island for clues, and she could not risk leading them back to her—or her family.
She peered into the heavy satchel at her side. A heap of jars containing bright red powder filled the bag to its brim. Another sizable stash was hidden in a shallow pit near the Lumnos dock. If all went to plan, she would grab it before escaping, leaving her with a decade-long supply—but if things went all to hell, she at least had this small batch to get her daughter through a few more years of hiding.
Though hiding would not last much longer. Even flameroot couldn’t quicken Descended aging. Soon, Auralie would be forced to unearth some truths she’d spent the last two decades desperate to keep buried. But not today—and with any luck, not for years to come.
A slight rustle of grass from behind her gave away that she was no longer alone.
Before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth. Another hand wound around her ribcage, pinning her arms to her sides, and hauled her up against a man’s chest of rock-hard muscle.
She didn’t bother trying to scream—no one on this island would be coming to save her. Instead, she thrashed like a wildcat, ramming her elbow backward into his ribs and flinging her head back to smash against his face. He yielded nothing, as immovable as stone, taunting her with a low chuckle.
“Now I see where your daughter gets it.”
She stilled, the words chilling her to the bone.
The scent of moss and cedar wafted to her nose as the man growled in her ear. “You have a great deal of explaining to do, Auralie Bellator.”
As recognition washed over her, the terror in her veins turned to ice. She let her body go slack, and the man’s grasp loosened and released her. She jerked a blade from the sheath at her hip and spun to face him.
“If you hurt my Diem, I’ll—”
“Hello?” a voice rang out from nearby.
He raised a finger to his lips to shush her as his eyes darted in the direction of the path. She raised the blade higher until the point was an inch from his neck, her glare hardening.
His focus lowered to the blade. The tense feathering of his jaw coaxed a vicious smile to her lips.
“Is someone there?” the voice asked.
Something about it poked at the corner of her mind in alarm, the nagging fear of a burning candle left forgotten at home. Her eyes wandered curiously in its direction.
The man took advantage of her distraction and clamped his hand around her wrist in a vicelike hold. “Drop the blade,” he mouthed, his fierce eyes flashing in warning.
She shook her head, and his grip tightened to a bruising pressure. Her arm barked in pain, but she fought against the reflex to let go.
The wall of foliage enveloping them rustled as someone moved closer. They crouched in unison, bodies still locked in mid- scuffle, both of them sinking into the shadow of the wild-growing grass.
A soft glow illuminated the brush. Just above the tall vegetation, Auralie caught a glimpse of dark vines and twinkling stars.
Her eyes went wide.
The Crown of Lumnos.
Her gaze snapped to the man, suddenly aware of the vacant space above his head. Impossible. There was no other candidate, no one else even close. But if he had not taken the Crown...
“Hello?” the voice said again.
Auralie barely allowed herself a breath, though her mind was racing. The voice was feminine—so Lumnos had a Queen.
But if Prince Luther had not inherited the Crown, how could he be here on the island?
He had been relentless in reminding her that his ascension as King was not guaranteed, and if it didn’t come to pass, he would have no way of smuggling her back into the realm. She had pretended to debate the risk, but in truth, she had never intended to rely on him for a safe return.
She had her own plans for that.
But Luther could have only come today with the permission of the new Crown—and he seemed as desperate to avoid being discovered by her as Auralie was. Had he snuck onto the island to rescue her—or had he come to silence her forever so the new Queen never discovered his secrets?
The voice struck up again, and this time it was joined by a new one, harsh and masculine. Auralie didn’t need Luther’s warning glare to know that a discovery by a foreign King would be the kiss of death for them both.
The Crowns moved further away, their arguing voices joined by two more women, and soon the conversation faded into the distance. Auralie’s shoulders sagged with relief. Even Luther’s tightly drawn posture softened, but his punishing grip held fast to her wrist.
“Who is the new Queen?” Auralie whispered.
Luther’s eyes narrowed and jumped around her face, searching for something, but he didn’t respond.
“Is she an ally or an enemy?” she pushed.
A deep crease formed between his brows. “You truly don’t know?”
“I’ve been trapped on this island. How could I possibly know?”
His hold on her arm loosened slightly. “This wasn’t some part of one of your plans?”
“My plan was for you to be King.” She dared a peek above the brush to see the Crowns now gathering at the Temple. “You need to go. You can’t be here.”
“You need to go,” he growled, tugging her toward him. “If anyone spots you on this island, they’ll have you killed. Let’s get back to the boat, and I’ll explain everything.”
She dug her heels into the soil to hold her ground. “Leave me be, Luther. I know what I’m doing.”
“Whatever plan you think you had, the situation has changed.” His gaze flitted briefly toward the Temple. “Your family needs you, Auralie. It’s time to go home.”
He pulled at her arm again, and again she resisted. Their eyes locked in a war of obstinate glares, two predators daring the other to bite first. He swore softly and released her. “You’re as stubborn as your daughter. And just as determined to get yourself killed.”
Her heart stuttered. She jabbed the knife closer to his neck. “What did you do to my daughter? If you hurt her—”
“I would never,” he snarled.
The vicious insistence in his tone took her by surprise. He’d had no trouble making veiled threats against her family in the past, especially after she’d blackmailed him with his own family secrets.
“I am helping your daughter,” he hissed. “If you want to protect her, you need to come with me.”
There was a surprising sincerity in his tone, and for some reason, she found herself believing him.
But she couldn’t go. She’d come too far, sacrificed too much. If she didn’t see this plan through, she might never have another chance, and then there was no telling how many innocent lives would pay the price.
“I’m doing this for her,” she answered. “And for my son, and my husband, and all of the mortals like them.” She shoved her satchel into his arms. This wasn’t part of the plan, but it would have to be enough. “If I don’t return, give this to my daughter.
Now go—and don’t turn back, no matter what you hear.”
He glared. “Auralie...”
“I’m sorry.” She could only hope her own sincerity shone through those words as she dove forward and sliced the blade across his ankles, severing his tendons.
He shouted and fell backward. She wasted no time in bolting away at a dead sprint. She had a short window to act before his healing abilities closed the wound and restored his ability to chase her down.
By then, it would be too late to stop her plans.
She no longer bothered with any attempt to stay hidden. She leapt onto the path and ran in a desperate race against time.
A fleeting glance at the Temple’s dais confirmed the Rite of Coronation had already begun. Perfect—all nine Crowns were in place.
She’d made arrangements to keep the Crown of Lumnos protected, but only if they matched Luther’s description. A pang of uncertainty needled her at that thought. If this woman was working with Luther, perhaps she deserved to be spared. An alliance with a Crown would be a powerful tool.
It was too late now. Whoever this new Queen was, she was on her own. If the gods wanted her alive, they would have to protect her themselves.
A deafening thunderclap tore through the sky. Auralie stumbled and skidded to her hands and knees. The tiny rocks on the gravel path sliced into her palms, bringing beads of blood to the surface.
The sunlight around her dimmed with impossible quickness. In the span of a breath, the blue, cloudless sky was a hazy fog of grey. This was no natural weather event—it must have something to do with the ritual, which meant she was running out of time.
She scrambled to her feet and ran to the back side of the Temple, shoving aside the piles of dried leaves she had carefully laid out to conceal the long black cord of the fuse. Her hands trembled violently as she pulled her few remaining matches from the pouch at her waist, the lot of them tumbling to the dirt before she could take hold.
She dropped to her knees, forcing herself to take a deep breath and steady her hand. The first match scratched against the Temple’s shimmering black stone walls—once, twice, three times—before snapping in her fingers.
She swore and grabbed a second match. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest as it caught fire on the first strike. She held the match to the tip of the fuse. A bright orange flame caught and began to zip rapidly along its length.
A crack of lightning split through the sky. The electric thrum of it crackled in the air and raised the hair on her arms.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She launched into a sprint due east, her sharp focus fixing on the makeshift shelter she’d constructed. She threw herself behind it and yelped in surprise as she collided with a large, masculine body.
“Vance,” she gasped, grabbing his arm. “You made it.”
Her old colleague nodded solemnly. “Did you get all our plans completed here?”
“Every last one. It should only be seconds now.”
She turned back to the Temple and strained to see what was happening with the Crowns. Two of them were standing near the central pedestal, just beside the strange rock that had left her hand blistered and grey, though one was blocked by a column.
Vance was still staring at her, his posture curiously still. “Auralie, there’s something you need to know.”
“It’s going to have to wait, Vance.”
“Auralie,” he started again, an edge to his voice.
But before she could give him her attention, the person at the Temple’s center shifted to the right, revealing a full view of the woman standing beneath the glowing Crown of Lumnos.
Auralie’s heart stopped.
Long, wavy white hair.
Grey, terrified eyes.
A face she knew and loved more intimately than any other in existence.
“Diem,” she breathed.
She bolted to her feet, no longer caring if she was in the path of the bomb’s—
Oh gods. The bomb.
“Diem!” she shouted.
“Stop,” Vance hissed. “You’ll ruin the mission!”
He lunged to grab her. She yanked away just in time, leaping over the shelter and running for the Temple with a fiery panic burning her from the inside out. Tears streamed down her face as she sent out a desperate prayer to the gods.
“Diem!” she shrieked, again and again, her throat nearly bleeding with the force of her cries.
On the Temple’s dais, her daughter’s eyes turned to her and flared wide.
“Diem!” Auralie screamed. “Diem, run!”
And with a deafening boom and a blast of fire and rubble, everything exploded.
To be continued....
