Page 103 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“That went better than I expected,” she murmured to Nix as they followed Umbra through the shifting corridors of the Obsidian Palace.
“Don’t be deceived,” Nix whispered back. “His acceptance came too easily. Lord Noctis is playing a longer game than we can see.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Night Court never forgets a slight, and they rarely forgive. They’ve agreed to help, yes, but they’ll be watching to see how this unfolds. If you succeed, their position is strengthened. If you fail…”
“Then both realms face the Void Drinker’s hunger,” Lark finished grimly. “So, we make sure we don’t fail.”
As they emerged from the Obsidian Palace into the perpetual midnight of the Night Court’s domain, Lark once again reached for her bond with White Eye. This time, she sensed something different. There was an urgency that hadn’t been there before, a desperate call across the divide between realms.
Time was running out in Sataran. The Flashover approached, and with it, the Void Drinker’s chance to tear down the barriers permanently. Her friends were in danger, possibly already engaged in their own desperate attempt to complete the binding ritual with incomplete knowledge.
She had to hurry. Two courts remained, and each would present its own challenges. But with each contribution to theVaerdium alloy, her chance of returning in time to save both realms grew stronger.
Hold on, Venrick,she thought.Hold on, White Eye. I’m coming as quickly as I can.
With renewed determination, Lark followed Umbra, Helianthus and Solstice into the darkness, ready to face whatever challenges the Spring and Winter Courts might present.
24
SPRING AND WINTER
The transition from the Night Court’s realm of perpetual darkness to the Spring Court’s domain was jarring. One moment, they walked beneath a moonlit sky of the deepest black, the next, they emerged into a world of ethereal twilight. Even the air here was suffused with the pale green luminescence of new growth.
Lark blinked, her eyes adjusting to the shift in light. All around them, vegetation burst forth in a constant cycle of growth and renewal. Flowers bloomed and withered in minutes, only to bloom again. Trees sprouted, grew, and shed their leaves in an endless dance of becoming. Even the path beneath their feet was alive, forming itself from intertwining roots and moss that grew ahead of their steps and gently receded behind them.
“The Spring Court’s eternal dawn,” Umbra explained, her voice tight with discomfort. The Night Court guard looked distinctly out of place here, her darkness-forged armor absorbing the ambient light rather than reflecting it. “Where everything is always beginning, never truly existing.”
Helianthus and Solstice seemed equally unsettled, though for different reasons. The Summer Court guards’ golden armornow appeared ostentatiously bright against the subtle hues of Spring.
“It’s beautiful,” Lark breathed, watching a nearby sapling grow from seedling to young tree in the span of moments.
“Beauty without permanence,” Nix observed, her flame casting dancing shadows across the ever-changing landscape. “The Spring Court values potential over achievement, the promise over the fulfillment.”
Their path wound through meadows of grass kissed with dew. Countless tiny fae creatures scattered at their approach, their thin wings catching in the perpetual dawn before disappearing into the green. Unlike the formal processions of Summer or the calculated watchfulness of Night, the Spring Court seemed chaotic, playful, and wild. Half-animal and half-fae being darted among the trees, studying the travelers with unabashed curiosity.
“We are watched,” Umbra warned, her hand never straying far from her shadow-forged blade.
“Not with hostility,” Helianthus countered. “With interest. They seldom receive visitors from multiple courts at once.”
As they crested a gentle hill, Lark saw their destination. Unlike the imposing structures of the previous courts, the Spring Court’s heart was a vast grove of impossibly tall trees, their trunks wide enough to house entire chambers. Bridges of living vines connected these massive trees, swaying gently in the breeze as the scent of wildflowers and fresh rain wafted through.
“Verdant Haven,” Nix explained. “The Spring Court’s gathering place.”
Before they could proceed further, the air before them shimmered. Three figures materialized, stepping directly out of the mist that clung to the meadow. They were slender and lithe, with skin the pale green of new leaves and hair like flowering vines that moved of its own accord. Their armor, if it could becalled that, appeared to be fashioned from overlapping leaves hardened to the strength of steel, yet flexible enough to move with their bodies.
“Greetings, travelers,” said the foremost figure, a female whose eyes contained the first light of dawn. Her voice was melodious, as if several people spoke in perfect harmony. “I am Thalia, First Blossom of the Spring Court’s sentinels. Your presence here is unexpected.”
Lark stepped forward, having learned from her previous encounters that directness was valued over formality in the fae realm. “I am Lark from Sataran. I am host to two bonds. One with the dragon, White Eye, and the other, with the fire fae, Nix, formerly of the Night Court. I seek an audience with your sovereign regarding a matter that threatens both our realms.”
Thalia’s sparkling gaze moved from Lark to her companions, lingering on Umbra and the Summer guards with undisguised curiosity. “Summer and Night escorts? The courts rarely agree on anything these days. How interesting.” Her attention returned to Lark. “What matter could possibly unite such disparate interests?”
“The Void Drinker has escaped its prison on Sataran,” Lark explained. “It plans to use the approaching Flashover to permanently tear down the barriers between all realms.”
Unlike the reactions from the previous courts, Thalia and her companions showed no surprise at this news. Instead, they exchanged knowing glances. “Yes,” Thalia said softly. “We have felt the disturbances. The boundaries thin, the patterns shift. All beginnings contain their own endings, after all.”
“Then you understand why I must speak with your sovereign,” Lark pressed. “The original binding ritual required contributions from all four courts. I already have the essences from Summer and Night.”
