His smugness...
“I know who you truly are,” he announced.
My brow furrowed with confusion. “I don’t understand. Who am I truly?”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “She lives in you, but she is not you and you are not her. Not yet. She is a queen, and you are the servant she possesses...the two separated only by a mystical wall.”
The heat drained from my face. I’d heard my mother use those same words at times. Lives in you...possessed...mystical wall. “What does that mean?”
Milo stopped in front of me, his expression almost reverent. “It means you are Leonora, the Burner of Worlds. You are the one my father tried to eliminate—the one I seek. You can give me everything I desire. Everything I deserve. I can do the same for you.”
The name Leonora echoed inside my head, setting my every nerve on edge. While there wasn’t much known about Leonora the Burner of Worlds, all of Enchantia had heard about her war with Craven the Destroyer. How she’d possess fire magic and led an army of dragons against his army of bloodthirsty avian warriors, and devastation had reigned.
Their battles took place centuries ago, yet some parts of the realm had never recovered. In fact, one of the Avian Mountains, where Craven had once resided, was known as the Peak of Sorrow, thanks to a staggering death toll and a barren landscape.
Even though Leonora had lived so long ago, Momma had accidentally called me Leonora, too, when she’d been sick and delirious. I’d entered her room with a pitcher of water, and she’d thrown a goblet at my head, screeching, Leave her, Leonora. Leave my Ashleigh. I hate you, do you hear me? I want you gone.
Growing more nauseous by the second, I sputtered, “I’m not Leonora. I’m not. She’s dead, and I’m alive.”
“Oh, she isn’t dead, I assure you. She lives on in you.” His smile returned as he crouched in front of me, intense golden eyes drilling into my soul. “I speak to you, Leonora. I know you seek vengeance. I will help you get it—if you will help me get riches beyond my wildest dreams.”
My breaths quickened. “I—I don’t understand what you expect from me.” Maybe he wasn’t quite right in the head? “I promise I’m not Leonora. I swear she’s not living on inside me.”
“Without its refortification, the barrier between you is already weakening. One day, nothing will separate you. It might be a week, or a year, or even ten years, but you will become her, and she will become you.”
My tremors returned, a chill spreading in my bones. “I don’t—”
A whoosh, whoosh noise drew my gaze upward. My heart thudded as Saxon Skylair came into view. He dipped in the sky, sinking beneath a cloud. Such grace, speed, and agility. Envy consumed me as the wind whipped through his hair, ruffled his cerulean wings as well as the fabric of his plain white tunic and dark leather trousers.
My gaze found his, and I cringed at the fury he projected. No, not this time. Scathing hostility boiled in his eyes now, and it was so much worse than the fury. As I scrambled backward, hoping to avoid him altogether, I remembered Milo’s presence and looked to him for help—
The warlock’s son had already raced away.
Panic spiked when Prince Saxon descended headfirst, his wings tucked into his sides to increase his speed—he was headed straight for me. I scrambled back. At the last second, he flared those wings to slow his momentum and landed a few feet away with a heavy thump.
I lumbered on legs that had yet to steady, fighting to remain upright as I continued to inch backward. “I’ll go.”
“Stay,” he barked. One word. Four letters. Infinite command. “I suspect I know who you are, but I wish to make sure.”
Not this again. Suddenly light-headed, I wrapped my fingers around Momma’s ring. Every instinct shouted, Flee! Flee now. I remained in place. I had to know who Saxon Skylair thought I was. Would he believe me to be Leonora too?
A tower of might, he stalked closer. When he stopped, he stood a whisper away. An incredible scent drifted to my nose, reminding me of a promise of rain. It came from him, I realized, and I had to fight the urge to press my nose into the hollow of his throat and breathe deeply.
Pinching a lock of my brown hair, he said, “Rumor suggests you’re too sickly to leave your bed, that you would have to be carried to the service, and yet you somehow found the strength to walk to and from the palace—twice—on the day of my arrival. A strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
His thickened tone suggested...what? “I found the strength to say goodbye to my mother,” I replied, at my wit’s end. Two boys, one mystery, and a whole lot of confusion.
His mouth started moving again. I knew he was speaking to me, yet his voice was getting drowned out by the ringing in my ears. Dizzy... Black spots dotted my vision, his merciless face blurring.
No, no, no. Not again. Though I struggled with everything I had, I couldn’t stop the black spots from spreading through my mind. Like spilled ink on parchment.
To faint in front of this boy... I hadn’t interacted with many people in my lifetime, but I knew to be wary of showing a hint of vulnerability right now. But... I needed help, even if it came from someone like him.
I tried to tell Saxon, “Can’t see. Palace. Return...”
But the darkness took me first.
* * *
Trapped in a void, with no sight or sound. Aware but powerless. Time ceased to hold meaning for me, a minute, hour, or year passing. Until...
A glimmer of light appeared. I kicked and clawed my way toward it—yes! The darkness receded, bit by bit, and I blinked open my eyes. Bright light registered, the world coming back into view. I was lying on the ground, rosebushes, statues, and flames. Heat poured from me, the scent of charred grass heavy. Flames? A thick veil of smoke choked me, and I coughed.
There’d been smoke in the warlock’s chambers, too.
Was Saxon okay? I sat up, my gaze finding Saxon.
A scream of shock and horror barreled from me. He loomed perhaps twenty feet away, his hair singed at the ends, dark rings of smoke around his eyes, nose, and mouth, his clothes littered with burn holes. Even his feathers had been scorched.
I didn’t... I couldn’t... With a baffling amount of energy I’d never before experienced, I scrambled to my feet and stepped toward him, determined to help. “What happened?”
He huffed and puffed his breaths, like a big bad wolf. “You happened.”
“Me? I didn’t... I never... I was unconscious.” I stumbled back, my hand fluttering to my chest. Wait. I paused to peer down. My fingers. The ends were red, and they burned hot enough to singe my dress. Frantic, I shook out both hands, hoping to cool them off.