Page 98 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly. “About the prophecy, about my bloodline?”
Nix’s flame flickered uncertainly. “At first, I couldn’t. The contract forbade it. Later, after your amnesia, it seemed cruel to burden you with knowledge you weren’t ready to bear.” Her fire brightened slightly. “And perhaps, I feared how you would see me once you knew the truth. That I was assigned to you, not chosen freely.”
Lark considered this, feeling the weight of the Summer Court’s revelation alongside the Solarium in her tunic. “We’ll talk more about this later,” she decided. “Right now, we need to focus on convincing the Night Court to help us.”
“That will not be easy,” Nix warned, her flame diminishing again. “They do not forgive easily, and they certainly haven’t forgotten my departure.”
“What choice do we have?” Lark asked grimly. “Without all four essences, the Vaerdium will be incomplete. And without Vaerdium, the binding ritual will fail.”
As they followed their newly assigned guides, two tall fae dressed in armor that shifted between solid gold and liquid sunlight, Lark reached once more for her bond with White Eye. The connection remained frustratingly tenuous, but she poured her determination into it, nonetheless.
I’m coming, White Eye. Hold on just a little longer.
The response was faint but unmistakable. A sensation of recognition, of waiting, of faith that she would return. It strengthened her resolve as they prepared to face the next challenge.
23
NIGHT COURT
The procession departed from the Summer Court’s floating citadel as the impossible sky above shifted to the deep amber of sunset. Queen Aurelia’s guards, Helianthus and Solstice, led the way, their golden armor catching the last rays of light. Lark and Nix followed, behind them a small retinue of Summer Court attendants bore provisions and gifts meant to smooth the diplomatic passage.
“The Night Court lies at the far edge of the realm,” Helianthus explained, his musical voice calm and formal. “We must traverse the Twilight Expanse to reach it.”
As they descended from the floating structures, the landscape transformed. The crystal forest thinned, giving way to rolling plains where the grass shimmered with a metallic iridescence. In the distance, Lark could see the horizon darkening, as if night was both a time and a place in this realm.
“The Twilight Expanse marks the boundary between the courts’ territories,” Nix explained, her flame burning stronger now that they were away from the Summer Queen’s presence. “It belongs to no court and every court, a neutral ground where all fae may travel freely.”
“How long will the journey take?” Lark asked, acutely aware of time’s strange flow between realms.
Solstice laughed, the sound emitting as wind chimes in a strong breeze. “Time is a mortal concern, dragonrider. Here, the journey takes precisely as long as it must.”
Lark frowned at the non-answer but kept pace. The golden ingot of Solarium weighed against her chest, its warmth a constant reminder of her purpose.
As they walked, the grass beneath their feet gradually changed from its metallic sheen to a deeper, more muted blue. The air cooled, and the ambient light dimmed until Nix’s flame became their primary illumination. Overhead, stars appeared, only they were not arranged in the constellations Lark knew from Sataran. These stars moved with purpose, occasionally swooping down like fireflies before rejoining their celestial patterns.
“Living stars,” Helianthus noted, seeing Lark’s directed attention. “Messengers of the Spring Court. They watch all who cross the Expanse.”
Hours or perhaps days passed as they journeyed. Time stretched and compressed unpredictably. Lark tried repeatedly to reach White Eye through their bond, but the connection remained frustratingly thin, offering only the faintest impressions of his presence.
They stopped occasionally at waypoints that materialized just as fatigue began to set in. These small pavilions of woven moonlight offered food and drink. Lark ate cautiously, remembering the warnings about accepting fae hospitality, but Nix assured her these provisions were safe.
“The waypoints are neutral ground,” she explained. “What is offered here creates no obligation.”
After resuming their journey, Lark noticed the landscape growing increasingly strange. The previously uniform plainsgave way to scattered formations that were contrary to natural laws. Floating boulders emerged, trees grew upside-down from mid-air, pools of water stretched vertically hanging like liquid mirrors.
“The Expanse grows less stable the farther we travel from Summer’s influence,” Nix warned. “Reality here is, negotiable.”
“Negotiable?” Lark asked.
“Perception shapes what you experience,” Nix replied. “Focus on your purpose, not your surroundings. The Expanse can distract the unwary, sometimes fatally.”
As if to emphasize her point, a chasm suddenly yawned, opening before them into a vast, bottomless gulf that hadn’t existed moments before. The Summer guards halted, exchanging concerned glances.
“The boundary frays,” Solstice murmured. “The Flashover’s approach uncovers unexpected affects even here in our realm.”
Helianthus studied the chasm, then turned to Lark. “Your dual nature may be of use here. The gap exists because the path to Night cannot decide what it wishes to be. Perhaps you can remind it.”
Lark looked to Nix, who nodded encouragingly. “The fae and draconic energies together might stabilize the pathway. Just as they did for the gateway in your cell.”
