Princess Nymeria's Arc

Chapter 30 of 32

The blessing warmed Nymeria for three days. She woke each morning and walked the silver halls with Valor, his hand steady in hers. But each morning she looked for Lyra and did not find her. Three days now. Lyra never missed a morning meal, never skipped a hunt. The quiet gnawed at Nymeria. On the third dawn she stopped Valor by a tall arched window. "Your sister is gone," she said. "I have not seen her since the ball." Valor's smile fell. Lyra was the elf who first trusted Nymeria, who gave her a horse and taught her to hunt. Valor knew his sister as well as anyone. "She would never hide from you," he said. "Not for three days." His jaw tightened. He pulled Nymeria toward the throne room, walking fast, then faster. "Something is wrong." King Caladorn rose the moment they entered. He read their faces at once. "Where is Lyra?" Nymeria asked. The king's calm cracked. He called for guards. He called for the elf woman his son nearly married, the blonde one who loved Lyra. She did not come. A servant hurried in instead, pale, holding a folded paper. "This was in the guest chamber," the servant said. "Hers." Caladorn took the note. His hand shook as he read. Nymeria watched the color leave his face. He read it twice, then set it down like it burned him. "She is not an elf," he said. "Elara. She was no princess of any court. She wore a disguise to enter my walls." Valor grabbed the paper. Nymeria read over his shoulder. The words were plain and cruel. Elara had taken Lyra. She wanted gold, a chest of it, or the princess would not return. She named a place and a night. Nymeria's stomach dropped. She had trusted Elara. They all had. The woman had bonded with Lyra, laughed with her, walked the gardens beside her. It was a lie built to reach a king's daughter and a king's treasure. Caladorn sank onto his throne. "My child," he said. "Taken from under my own roof." Valor turned to Nymeria, fear and fury in his eyes. "We have to find her." Nymeria felt the old guilt rise. Lyra had risked everything to shelter her. Now Lyra was gone, and a stranger held her for coin. Nymeria opened her palm and let a small purple flame curl above it, steady and bright. She did not fear it now. She would not fear the road ahead either. "I will bring her back," Nymeria said. "I owe her that. Ready horses. We ride tonight." Caladorn lifted his head. For the first time he looked at Nymeria not as a demon guest, but as kin. "Then go," he said. "Bring my daughter home." The safe morning walks were over. Somewhere beyond the shimmering spires, Lyra waited in the dark, and only a demon's fire could reach her.