August pulled the map from the inner lining of his cloak. The parchment was old and felt heavy. He looked at the edge of the forest where the shadows were deepest.
"No one can stop me from reaching the place where my family is connected.
He stepped out from the treeline. A black carriage waited on the dirt path, its lamps extinguished to avoid detection. August signaled with a sharp movement of his head. Elias and Lirael followed him in silence. They moved quickly, their boots hitting the ground with synchronized thuds.
August climbed inside first. Once the three were seated, the carriage lurched forward. The wheels groaned against the mud. The interior was cramped and smelled of old leather and damp silk.
Elias broke the silence. He shifted his weight, his large frame making the carriage lean. "Where are we even going, August?"
August did not answer. He stared at the map in his lap, his grey eyes fixed on the shifting ink. He remained motionless, his posture rigid despite the swaying of the vehicle.
Lirael sensed the tension. He did not speak. He looked out the small window at the night sky. The stars were bright, but to Lirael, the view was a burden. Every beautiful vista triggered a catalog of old, painful memories. He leaned his head against the wood and closed his eyes.
August knew Giles had been hesitant back at the manor. He had seen the doubt in his butler's eyes. Because he did not trust the truth to be told, August had hired a silent operative—someone who moved unseen—to retrieve the map. It was now in his hands. With it, he would find the secret kingdom that sat outside the reach of the British Crown.
At the Palace of Thornleigh, the atmosphere was clinical and quiet. Cedric Montrose walked down the stone corridor toward his private chambers. His armor was stained with the grime of the road.
Soldiers bowed as he passed, their helmets clinking as they lowered their heads. Cedric ignored them. His focus was entirely on the door at the end of the hall.
He entered his room and closed the door behind him. The air was warm. Stellan was not in the main area. Cedric walked further in and saw Stellan emerging from the bath chamber.
Stellan was surprised. He was half-dressed in a loose robe, his skin still glistening with water. He looked sad, his expression heavy with the weight of loneliness.
"Montrose," Stellan said. He gripped the edge of his robe. "You're back."
"I lost them," Cedric replied. He did not look at Stellan's face. He looked at the floor. "They were already gone. Their speed was incredible. We found nothing again.
Stellan blinked. His violet eyes searched Cedric's face. "Does that mean you didn't see the boy at all? You didn't see August?"
Cedric nodded once. He remained standing by the door, his hands clenched at his sides.
Sudden happiness broke through Stellan's sadness. He moved quickly, crossing the room in three strides. He threw his arms around Cedric in a tight embrace.
Cedric flinched. His own wounds were still fresh and healing beneath his tunic. The sudden pressure caused a sharp jab of pain in his side, but he did not pull away immediately.
Stellan looked up at him, his face inches from Cedric's. "I can't wait to get back to work. I am getting bored sitting in this room while you are out there."
Cedric felt the heat of Stellan's chest against his own. The droplets of water from Stellan's bath began to soak into Cedric's travel-worn clothes. Cedric felt a flush rise to his neck. He reached out and took Stellan by the shoulders, firmly pushing him back to create distance.
He looked away, his eyes scanning the wall. "You are still wounded. You shouldn't have taken a bath yet. You'll aggravate the stitches."
"If I didn't bathe, I would smell of blood and old bandages," Stellan countered. He tried to step forward again, but Cedric's grip remained firm.
"Go to sleep," Cedric commanded. "I have work to do. There are reports to finish and the King's guard to notify."
"Go to sleep," Cedric commanded. "I have work to do. There are reports to finish and the King's guard to notify."
Stellan's expression shifted to worry. He grabbed Cedric's sleeve. "But you just arrived. You are wounded too, Montrose, Why are you going back out so suddenly? You need to rest."
"I have work," Cedric repeated.
He turned on his heel and walked toward the door. Stellan tried to reach for him again, but Cedric was faster. He stepped into the hallway and shut the heavy oak door. The click of the latch echoed in the silent room.
Stellan stood alone in the center of the chamber. He looked at the door, then at his discarded clothes.
"If he is hurt and still working, then what am I waiting for?" Stellan muttered.
He moved with sudden purpose. He dropped the robe and pulled on his dark trousers and a clean shirt. He ignored the stinging pain in his side and the ache in his head. He pushed his damp, silk-black hair back from his forehead.
His head wound had not fully healed, but his mind was made up. He could not leave Cedric to handle the weight of the investigation alone. They were partners. They worked together.
Stellan stepped out into the hallway, following the sound of Cedric's boots against the stone.
Back to august,
The carriage halted at the edge of a jagged, salt-crusted pier. The Atlantic fog was a dense wall. A vessel waited in the harbor. Its hull was obsidian, and it carried no flag. There was no crew visible on the deck.
August stepped out of the carriage. He did not hesitate. He walked across the narrow gangplank and onto the ship. His white gloves gripped the cold iron railing.
Elias and Lirael followed. Elias looked at the empty deck, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "This ship is empty, August. Where are the sailors? How are we supposed to cross the sea alone?"
Lirael stayed silent. He felt a vibration in the wood beneath his boots. It wasn't the rhythm of an engine or the pull of the tide. It was something older.
"The ship does not need sailors," August said. "It needs a destination."
The vessel began to move. It glided away from the British coast without a single sail being unfurled. The fog swallowed the pier. The shoreline of Britain vanished within seconds.
August stood at the bow. His gaze was fixed on the indigo horizon. His mind was occupied by the secrets he had uncovered in the subterranean levels of Blackwood Manor.
He thought of the heavy iron chest he had found hidden behind a false wall in the basement. It didn't contain British gold or family heirlooms. It contained artifacts from the Althérian Dominion.
The items had belonged to Maralise.
August knew the truth that had been scrubbed from the family ledgers. Maralise was the twin sister of his mother, Annalise. They were two halves of the same soul. Annalise had married the Everhart heir and died when the Eclipse Elite stormed the manor.
Maralise was the mystery. No one talked about her. She was a shadow in the family history. But the evidence in the chest was clear: Maralise was deeply connected to the secret kingdom.
August looked back at Elias. The knight was scanning the horizon, his emerald eyes sharp. Elias knew nothing of his heritage. He didn't know that his mother, Maralise, was a twin. He didn't know that he and August were first cousins, bound by the same cursed Althérian blood.
The connection explained everything. It explained why Elias was so strong. It explained why his missing twin brother was so valuable to the King.
If Maralise had fled back to the Dominion, or if she had been taken, the secret of the Eldrith power was buried with her. August realized that Elias wasn't just his protector. Elias was the key to the foundation of the hidden kingdom.