It felt a lot like an underground cavern, with carved stonework surrounding the portal gate. Emily struggled to stand still with her hands held neatly behind her back. As would be befitting a Skyrider sent to escort the King back to the Capital. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, her boots shone to a gleam. Beyond the immediate structure, she could hear the distant, impatient shuffling of the Volarean.

Her short hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, but she ran her fingers through the pale silk locks again. She rocked forward onto her toes and back again. Would Ben come too? The Skyrider was worried that she might blush. But it had just been a bit of fun, and she was eager for Liam to return.

Emily knew Elyna wouldn’t be coming through the portal, not so close to the baby being due. She hoped though, with nervous excitement to hear news of her friend. Elyna’s letters had stopped coming a little after the 100th day of Blaze. Had she and Malcolm managed to make up? Emily was all too aware that her friend had been distraught to have so quickly offended her lover. The Skyrider studied the toes of her boots. Elyna hadn’t written it, but she’d been lonely, frightened and felt abandoned. Emily let out a small sigh, wondering if Elyna had pushed her lover away. If Malcolm had simply tried to give her the space he felt she needed.

She tucked her hair back again. The large chamber was cleared for the king’s arrival, but on a usual day it reminded her mostly of a post office, or sorting room with neat boxes for piling letters and organising before they were dispatched to the regions by Volarean or Horse, dependent on the urgency and the cost.

Emily blinked, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip she edged forward to line up with the other dozen members of the Iron Hand, mostly Knights with a few Skyriders. Something was happening with the magic, lifting the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

The air frizzled and cracked as the gate came to life, lit up like a lightning storm. Electric blue pulses of light rippled like water and the first man appeared from thin air, arms raised to warn the waiting members of the Iron Hand to step back and clear a path. Moments later another man appeared, hands clutching the leather halters of two grey mares. The horses lurched forward and kicked at the magic still clinging to their heels in wisps of blue-white mist. Wild-eyed and with flared nostrils, the animals were led to the exit and out into the open air.

A storm of red and gold flooded the room as Jared’s men marched from the gate in uniform, followed closely by the baron himself. Benjamin was next and close behind entered the king. Their luggage came last, carried to the waiting members of the Iron Hand to load onto a waiting wagon.

Malcolm looked about, hair unruly and eyes searching. “Emily!” He said, informal, as if she were a part of his inner circle. He pressed a rune into her hand, his own gloved in dark leather. “You have to go back,” it was an order rather than a request. “It was Yvan,” Malcolm said, low enough that only she could hear. “He took Elyna and the babies.”

“Malcolm! Ben called, encouraging him to follow. There were urgent matters he must attend that had been neglected for too long.

Malcolm looked across at his brother and nodded. He then addressed the officer in command. “See to it that Le’Sark’s mount is sent through.”

“Your majesty?” The man looked confused by the order. Jacadon and Volareon were forbidden from crossing through the gate.

Malcolm gave the man a rune for Emily’s mount. “That’s an order,” he said.

The officer hurried away to fetch Emily’s Volareon as Malcolm turned back to her. “Please,” he said, “Edmund is searching the coast. I will send a second warship and by the next full moon twenty riders will be at your disposal. You have to find her Emily…” Malcolm squeezed the woman’s hand. “I can’t lose her.”

Emily stood resolute as the portal magic flickered in forked tongues of blue lightning. If she felt any concern, she managed to keep it from her features. Her back remained straight, hands lightly clasped at her spine. She watched the procession of traveller’s moving through with a faint smile, eager for news. When the King’s brother failed to even glance in her direction, Emily felt her excitement falter. Like one of the beautiful mares that stumbled on the ramp out into the open air of Gawyne beyond.

The King summoned her attention and the Skyrider hastened to his side. Head bent to his low voice, her brow knit in a frown. Confusion flit across her features, before alarm had her jerking her head up again. As though offended by the stone in her hand, she stared at it as Malcolm summoned mount.

Yvan had taken Elyna? The babies? Twins??

Emily pressed her back teeth tight together, struggling to hold her tongue. Emily turned back, pulling a sealed letter from her bag. She turned it over in her hands before extending it to the man with a bow. ‘She had this…feeling that something terrible was going to happen,’ the Skyrider explained. ‘Elyna asked me to give you this, if it did.’ She wet dry lips, uneasy. ‘This seems like the right time. I’m sorry,’


Sealed with blue wax imprinted with a leaf she pressed it into the man’s hands.

‘I’ll find her,’ she promised. ‘I’ll find her.’

Set within the letter was a carefully penned note.

Malcolm, my love.

Please excuse this letter, which hopefully you will never read. Jared arrived just this morning, and I must apologise for being dismissive, for pushing you away. I hope that you might return tonight and we might reconcile before your trip to Rhode. I wish that I could come with you, that we could spend this time together. I am ashamed to admit how hurtful it is, to consider you do not wish the same. But perhaps we will have tonight and with a few kind words can find ourselves at peace before your journey.

You mentioned Yvan, and I feel dread at the name. Another apology owed. Since you arrived in Aramane, I’ve been having nightmares. He features, prominently, fiercely and I’m forced to relive all the worst moments of my life. I am afraid to dream, and see his face. More than anything, I would beg and plead the Seven for these to stop. When I wake I can’t breathe and I worry for the effect on the babe. I hoped that if I set everything down, anything I could possibly say to him, and burn it, then perhaps I might be free. Free from a mind that tortures me at a point where I am so deliriously happy, to be yours and call you mine.

I can understand why you could believe these ridiculous notes might be letters, but please be assured I have no knowledge of where Yvan might be and do not wish to know. Such letters are a desperate attempt to free myself from such a shadow.

I feel that something terrible approaches, like a distant storm that lingers on the horizon. Should the worst happen, I pray for the safe delivery of our babe. That you might always consider me your most faithful and loving Elyna. Even if I am a silly girl who tries to rid herself of nightmares, and a fool for pushing away those she loves.

Yours,

Elyna