Page 63 of Shattered Crown

“A binding oath.” Mab's eyes gleamed. “If you fail to defeat the Shadowblight, all contested territories default to Winter Court control. Your forests, your mines, your rivers—all will freeze under my dominion.”

“That's everything,” Elena gasped. “You'd leave the kingdom with nothing.”

“I'd leave you with your lives,” Mab countered. “Which is more than the Shadowblight will offer. Besides, if you succeed, the oath becomes moot. Unless, of course, you doubt your ability to win?”

The challenge hung in the air. Silas felt the weight of every eye in the room. He glanced at Thorne, who gave him a subtle nod.

“Your terms are... steep,” Silas said carefully. “But we need your power. The frost fey's magic could turn the tide.”

“Indeed it could,” Mab agreed. “My warriors can freeze shadows solid, shatter corrupted flesh like glass. But such power comes at a price. Do you accept my terms, Ashworth heir?”

“I need guarantees,” Silas countered. “If we succeed, you'll honor the alliance. No claiming territory through technicalities or fey trickery.”

Mab's laugh filled the room with winter's chill. “Clever boy. You've learned something of our ways.” She extended a hand, nails like frozen daggers. “Very well. I swear by star and stone, by ice and bone, that the Winter Court will honor its alliance should you prevail against the Shadowblight. Do you accept?”

Silas took her hand, gasping as cold burned through him. “I accept.”

Power flowed between them, ancient magic sealing the bargain. Frost patterns spiraled up Silas's arm, marking him with the oath's binding.

“It is done,” Mab declared. “The Winter Court marches with you. Pray you don't fail, young Ashworth. I would so hate to turn your pretty forests into frozen wasteland.”

As she departed in a swirl of snow, Kai whistled low. “Well, that was terrifying. Anyone else feel like we just made a deal with the devil?”

“Sometimes you need ice to fight shadows,” Thorne said grimly. “But yes, we'll need to win. The alternative is unthinkable.”

* * *

Movingan army of such diverse forces proved challenging. Forest spirits traveled through root networks while human soldiers marched traditional routes. Frost fey created ice bridges over rivers while summer refugees called forth healing warmth.

Silas and Thorne led from the front, their combined presence helping maintain harmony. When arguments broke out between former enemies, they mediated with patience born of their own unlikely bond.

“Never thought I'd see sprites teaching swordplay to knights,” Kai commented during one rest stop. He'd arrived with reinforcements from the capital, bringing news of growing resistance.

“Strange times,” Silas agreed, watching a dryad demonstrate archery to fascinated human scouts.

Sebastian's forces harassed them constantly. Shadow creatures picked off stragglers while corrupted mages attempted to poison water sources. Each attack tested their alliance's strength.

The first major battle came at Widow's Crossing, where the Silver River carved through granite cliffs. Sebastian’s forces had destroyed the old bridges and fortified the far bank with siege weapons and shadow-forged abominations.

“We need that crossing,” Kai said during the war council, tapping the map Diana had sent with him. “It’s the fastest route to the valley—and to the capital beyond.”

“The river’s too wild for normal fording,” a local guide added. “She’s killed more folks than swords ever did.”

Silas studied the terrain, fingers tracing the bends of the river. He looked up at Thorne, whose expression mirrored the weight of his own thoughts. “What if we combined our magic—human structure with guardian will? We don’t need to force the river. We ask it.”

The strategy became their gamble—and their triumph.

Guardian spirits slipped beneath the roaring current, quieting the river’s fury. Human mages froze wide paths across the surface while frost fey conjured mirrored shields to catch incoming arrows. Thorne summoned the roots of the mountain itself, and Silas directed engineers to anchor the bridge of ice and magic with steel and spell.

When Sebastian’s monsters swarmed to repel them, Silas and Thorne fought back to back. The Sword of Balance pulsed with every heartbeat, shifting forms to meet each threat—blade to bow to hammer—while Thorne's magic surged in wild arcs of elemental fury. Thorns erupted like claws from the earth, catching shadows in their grasp, and flame danced behind Silas's blade.

They won the crossing. But not without cost.

The fields behind them were heavy with the dead. Soldiers tended the wounded by moonlight, and campfires burned low in quiet tribute. Yet among the ranks, hope bloomed. They had breached Sebastian’s strongest line.

* * *

Silas stoodon a rise overlooking the river they had conquered, his arms crossed, eyes lost in the dark silhouette of the valley beyond. The moon silvered the cliffs and threw shadows long across the water. He didn’t flinch when Thorne stepped up behind him, his presence a grounding warmth against the chill wind.

---