Page 136 of Crowned By Roses

“No, no, no! About the mural.” I lunge at Dayton. “And what you talked about. In the pool with the floating lights.”

“The will-o’-wisps?” Dayton raises an incredulous brow. “Kel, this isn’t the time…”

“And when we all lit the forge!” I shake Ezryn hard. “We were all connected.”

Farron stumbles back, and I can practically see his mind whirring through the gleam in his eyes. “Everything in the Vale is connected…” He looks up at me. “Everything is connected!” He sprints away from us, then sinks to the earth, planting his hands in the dirt. “The roots of Castletree are deep. If we offer our power, like we used to…”

“It still won’t be enough,” Ezryn says lowly. “Even when the five of us gave power to Castletree before, it never recovered from its weakness.”

I look out over the battlefield. Winter. Spring. Summer. Autumn. The Below. The Queen’s Army, who served the Queen’s Realm. And even Jack and Aurelia from the Above. Seven armies from the seven realms, all come to defend the heart of the Enchanted Vale. “We need everyone. All the peoples of the Vale.”

Silence stretches between us. “You must be the one to unite them,” Ezryn says. “You, Keldarion, are the Sworn Protector of the Realms.”

A storm grows in my chest, one that used to threaten to numb me. Now I ride upon its swell.

Dayton whistles four times, loud and sharp. A whinny sounds above us. Four pegasuses streak through the air, dodging harpies and gargoyles, and land in a graceful line. I leap on the back of a stark white horse and weave my hands through its mane.

“Skyward,” I say lowly, and the horse obeys, leaping into the air. Ezryn, Dayton, and Farron follow behind me astride their own beasts.

From up here, bright moonlight illuminates just how bloody the battle truly is. What was once the Briar is now painted red and littered with bodies from across the realms. Every one of our soldiers is flanked by Sira’s will-controlled creations. Rosalina won’t be able to use the rose to gain control over those creatures, not when she’s trying to save Castletree. And there’s no way our people can concentrate on Castletree when they’re fighting for their lives.

I need to give them a chance.

I stare upward. Somewhere, the origin of my power digs its roots deep into the ancient earth of the Gardens of Ithilias. And I will call upon every drop if I must.

A chill gathers in the air. My horse’s breath becomes a cloud. But the true cold gathers in my body, flooding my veins with ice. I draw the Sword of the Protector and hold it up in the moonlight, needing a conduit for my magic. And then my storm unleashes.

Fractals of ice appear beneath the feet of our enemy. Goblins and ogres look down, captured by a burst of cold. Grinjaws slip and stumble, ice creeping up their paws. Harpies screech, their wings hardening before free-falling through the ground. The shadow memories attacking the Queen’s Army freeze solid, their void bodies turning ice-white. The Elderblood I encase carefully, wishing a safe return to them at the end of all this.

I grit my teeth, hand shaking on my blade. One by one, goblin screams and the clatter of blades are silenced as the battlefield turns into a display of ice sculptures.

The gust of wings blows back my hair, and I turn to my brothers who have caught up with me. “It won’t hold,” I tell them. “They’ll be tearing out of that ice soon enough. But it will give us a moment.”

“A moment is all we need,” Farron says.

One by one, our soldiers stumble away from the statues, then blink up at us. I look to Castletree. The arms of the creature are still held firmly down by Caspian, Aurelia, and Wrenley, and a trembling glow emits from the hollow, but it’s weakening. Rosalina needs us now.

“People of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter,” I call. A briny breeze blows past, and I notice Dayton is controlling the wind, amplifying my voice so it travels to every corner of the battlefield. “Queen’s Army, fae of the Below, and visitors from Airaleth, I speak to you now not as the Sworn Protector of the Realms but as a son. A brother. A husband.” I point the Sword of the Protector toward Castletree. “The Golden Rose needs our help. There are seven realms, and we need the power of each of them to save our home. Spring, awaken us! Summer, give us your squalls! Autumn, let us reap your bounties, and Winter, allow us your calm. Children of the Above and Below, come together as two worlds, old and new, both branches of the same tree. And those who serve the Queen’s Realm…” My words boom, carried upon the winds like a war horn. “Show me how you fight for your queen!” I turn to my brothers. “Go to your realms. They need you.”

Ezryn nods. “For Rosalina.”

“For Rosalina,” Dayton echoes.

“For Rosalina,” Farron says.

Their pegasuses streak in opposite directions.

I take one moment to breathe the cold air. One moment to stare down at the people of the Vale, the valiant ones who dared to hope and were willing to die for that hope.

“I will not let it be in vain,” I whisper.

And then I nudge my pegasus’s side and we fly. But not toward Winter’s army. Not yet. We go to Castletree.

“Thought you forgot about me.” Caspian’s gaze twinkles up at me as we descend near his tangle of purple briars.

“Never. I can’t do this without you. Are your briars solid?”

“The tree’s stopped pulling. Whatever Rosalina’s done has…calmed it. For the moment at least.”