The Lionheart (The Harbinger Book 4) Read online

  “The weight of multiple worlds on my shoulders,” Faith cut in. “I know all that. Thanks for the reminder, though.”

  Hart only smiled. “I was going to say your bloodline has power you have yet to realize, but I suppose that works as well.”

  “Unless my bloodline is going to save my ass and help me call forth the Ageless Blade, it sounds pretty useless,” Faith muttered. She set a hand on her hip.

  Tapping his claw, calling forth the claw’s power to amplify his own, Hart spoke, “Has it occurred to you that you have been unable to call forth the Ageless Blade simply because you have not yet truly needed it?”

  She opened her mouth, ready to retort, but the only thing that came out was “No.” Way to sound like a cool chick, Faith, she told herself.

  Hart said nothing as a portal opened between them, its circular depth revealing a stone courtyard and a pacing Dracon—Vyserous. Vyserous paced for a moment longer before finally noticing the portal, gesturing for them to come through.

  Well, based on that, Faith hoped the High Queen would have them, help them. There was only one way to find out.

  She looked around the portal, meeting Hart’s gaze. “Thank you,” she said. She would not thank him for everything; one time was enough. He could take it or leave it. Manners were not her forte, for obvious reasons.

  Faith heaved a breath as she stood before the portal, and then she went through, its magic transporting her across kingdoms. As Light, Jag, and Dracyrus appeared behind her, as the portal closed and shut them in the lands of Furen, Faith met Vyserous’s golden gaze.

  The sky above them was blue with hints of orange, little puffs of clouds floating by. Their castle, it seemed, was built into a mountain, rocky and craggy, the air smelling of smoke and fire. It was warmer here, but when the wind blew, there was a certain chill she could not place.

  “Vyserous,” Faith said, “take us to your mother.”

  Long story short, the High Queen was not what she expected.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  That night, as Hart stood at the top of the Eldertree, watching as the world descended into blackness, he found himself with the urge to see. Seeing ran heavily in his bloodline. It was something his kind were good at, among many other things.

  The purple claw resting on his chest glowed, and Hart held onto it, waving a hand before him, much like how he’d showed Faith New Hope, reminded her of the cost. Magic always had a cost, just like war. Sometimes the cost was too much to bear. The Fae knew that well enough, since it was their kingdom who’d fallen, along with the Dwarves.

  No, Faith still had a price to pay.

  The Eldertree around him changed into what he saw. The future, though it wasn’t too far away. A tall, pale, menacing figure on a throne made of bones. Red eyes, Ulen, intensely sharp teeth. Teeth that could devour flesh and blood alike. Beside him stood two people. One, a Fae woman, with yellow hair and violet eyes, though her eyes flashed orange every few moments, as if a war raged inside her tiny body. Two spirits fighting for control. The other one beside the Ulen on the throne was another of his kind. The second Ulen’s skin was painted grey, his eyes a cloudy amber.

  However, as interesting as the Ulen’s companions might be, Hart was not interested in them. Not truly. What he was interested in was the long sword laying on the ground before the throne of bones. It was longer than an arm, sleek and steel, glimmering in the dim light, its metal sharp and dangerous. Beside the sword rested something else, something familiar.

  A horn.

  Poor Faith. She had no idea what price still lingered before her, the blood that would demand it be spilled. Things would certainly get worse for her before they got better. Then again, did things ever truly get better? Hart doubted it. Even if Faith managed to save the worlds, someone else would soon rise up seeking power and domination again.

  The cycle would continue for as long as time itself allowed, even if the Dread King and the Harbinger were no longer enemies.

  Maybe this was it. Maybe the end of the world, of every world, both known and unknown, was already upon them.

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