his words beginning to slur, “tell Evadne . . . that I will find my way back to her, as soon as I am able.”
He leaned his head back and drifted unconscious.
Halcyon delayed a moment, staring at his face, at his bandaged hand. She was trembling when she finally took the All-Seeing Crown from his brow.
She ran with the crown, up the winding road to the summit where the queen’s palace rested. None of the guards hindered her; they merely watched Halcyon stride in her bloodstained armor through the palace gardens and up the stairs into the grand hall.
Incense burned from silver bowls. Torches flickered from ornate columns, the light illuminating carven vines and falcons and moons. The floor was so polished it was like the face of water; Halcyon’s reflection shone vividly upon it. At the end of the hall was the golden throne, smoldering like a fallen star. And Queen Nerine sat upon it, frozen in time, her eyes closed.
Enchanted into sleep.
Halcyon paused, gazing upon her queen. When she began to close the distance, a guard finally intercepted her.
“What are you doing?” he barked at her.
“I am . . .” Halcyon halted, but she had no words within her. She was exhausted, broken, bloodied, devastated, hopeful.
“Let her pass,” another guard said, seeing the crown Halcyon carried.
The guards backed away, and Halcyon continued her walk to the throne. She walked for Xander, for the commander, for Ozias. She walked for Damon and Evadne. She walked for herself, for all that she had done, all she had sacrificed to reach this moment.
She stepped upon the dais. Throughout the haze of the past few hours, she had forgotten that she still carried Nikomides’s Devouring Sword, sheathed on her back. She could take the hilt, draw forth the blade, and the enchantment would break. But Halcyon did not choose the sword this time. She held up Acantha’s crown. The green-and-silver olive leaves shivered in the firelight. They whispered of another era, another time. They whispered of hope and healing.
She set the crown upon Queen Nerine’s brow.
And then quickly, quietly, Halcyon stepped down off the dais and knelt before the queen, her palms turned upward, her heart and mind ready. For the queen needed to know what had occurred, and she would need to look within Halcyon’s past and present to come into that knowledge.
Queen Nerine’s eyes fluttered open. Selene’s enchantment melted away from her, like rime in sun. She was liberated, and she drew in a deep breath, confused until she met Halcyon’s gaze. The two women were silent and still, their gazes united, their thoughts and hearts woven together. One gave; the other received.
And Halcyon did not know how much time passed, but at last, Queen Nerine rose. She wore Ari’s Shawl of Stars, and the diamonds glittered with ancient light when she moved. She stepped off the dais and came to the hoplite.
The queen smiled and cupped Halcyon’s face in her hands.
“Halcyon of Isaura, woman of bronze and courage . . . you have done me a great honor. Your sacrifice will be never be forgotten. Nor will Xander’s and Damon’s, Ozias’s and Lord Straton’s and your sister Evadne’s. Your names will be carved in the palace walls, a testament to all you have done, to all that you are, to all you are destined to become.”
The tears and emotions Halcyon had been suppressing surged forward. It was finished; it was done. And she turned her face into the queen’s hands and finally wept.
When Evadne stirred, there was only one star left in the sky, hanging like a promise as the sun rose. She watched it fade, and she began to remember what had happened. She tried to sit forward, but her wounds ached in protest, and she groaned, lying back on the cushions.
She was on a veranda. Where? Where was she?
“Eva.”
She heard Halcyon’s voice and turned to see her sister was lying beside her. And Uncle Ozias was sleeping in a chair nearby, his mouth open as he snored, and another man—Thales—was also asleep, sitting against the wall.
“Where are we?” Evadne whispered.
Halcyon quietly sat forward and helped Evadne drink a few sips of water.
Gradually, her sister told her what had happened. Damon’s breaking, Lord Straton’s passing, Queen Nerine’s liberation.
“It is over, Eva,” Halcyon whispered and lovingly caressed Evadne’s tangled hair. “You have been so brave and strong, Little Sister. We have done everything that we could, and we have triumphed.”
Then why did Evadne feel like she had lost? Why