The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 16: Judgment

Eyes opening slowly, I thought I might be in a dream. It was a dream I'd had many times in the years since they had taken me from Estrellum. I would close my eyes and pretend to be in my bed in the winter palace in the West Mountains. My mother always left the windows cracked to clear the fireplace smoke from the air, and the breeze would bring in the smells of black pine and hoar frost.

But time was a thief. It had been years since my memory of those smells had been this vivid. I'd forgotten the sweetness of black pine sap and how it made my nose itch. The way it was now, crinkling and twitching, as I fought back a sneeze.

My dreams certainly didn't include a dull, thudding headache that grew worse every time I moved, and...I squinted into the darkness. The window would've been there. Framed by indigo curtains made from Arachni silk that shimmered like my skin.

"Astreia."

I flinched. Yoko was never in my dreams. My lips twisted into a lazy smile. At least not those dreams.

"Astreia."

She sounded panicked. The world snapped into focus as I wrenched my eyes open fully. This was definitely not my bedroom in the winter palace.

A single, small Fae light flickered overhead in the middle of the room. Hands bound by rough rope, I sat with my back against a scratchy canvas wall. They had bound Yoko similarly and put her across from me. A stake driven into the dusty ground kept her from crawling to my side, and from the raw red lines around her wrists, she'd been thrashing against the bindings for some time. However, once she saw I was awake, she stopped, her body sagging in relief.

"Where are we?" I asked.

She lifted a shoulder. "I'm not familiar with the area, but when I came to, we were in a wagon. When someone came to get us, I glimpsed silver mountains in the distance."

"The West Mountains," I whispered, closing my eyes and picturing them as I'd last seen them.

Gleaming argent bases capped by sparkling white peaks that pierced the night sky. My great-great grandmother built the winter palace in the valley between the two smaller mountains: Farah's Fang and Lightsong. We traveled there every year to visit the more wild elves that lived in the passes, and I always dreaded the first hint of warmth in the wind.

And at the top of the highest mountain, Starfyre, Vyta had once burned. Bright enough to be seen from almost anywhere in the country. Bright enough that on clear nights, even those in Araphel could see its shine in the darkness.

"That's a rather boring name for such a spectacular mountain range," Yoko muttered, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"When something is that beautiful, no words will do it justice."

Yoko cleared her throat. "Well, I only got to admire them for a moment. As soon as they realized I was awake, they forced a bag over my head. They didn't take it off until they brought us in here."

I exhaled and stretched my stiff legs across the small space. My boots brushed Yoko's, and she smiled. My echoing smile lasted only a moment as I remembered something else. Someone else.

"Dante?"

"He wasn't in the wagon, and he isn't in here. I'm hoping that means he escaped."

"Escaped..." A sob choked me. "Why was there anything to escape? Why would we be attacked like that? By my own people?"

Never in all my years imagining my return had I thought the people wouldn't welcome me back with open arms. While no place was perfect, Estrellum came close. With very little issues among the different races. Though, now that I thought about it, the last winter I'd spent here, my mother had been stressed over an incident among the Napali. Knowing that the war with Edresh stretched our army thin, they had made a move to take territory from the Cyote, another tribe of mountain shifters.