FOURTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦.
Xanthiene Vivenca, a fairy with a bounty for her soul, is caught between...
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A loud explosion rocked the Palace.
Nyxis jolted from his sleep which he didn't even realize he had taken. He raised his head from being rested against his arm. His skin and muscles numbed and prickled like he had slept on it all night.
When had he dozed off? His eyes raked through the half-finished potions he remembered making. The candle he set up for himself had long sputtered out. Thank the gods it didn't burn anything in its passing.
He rubbed his eyes just as the second explosion shook the room. Branches rustled as the vines that made up the walls groaned. Debris rained on him. He braced a hand against the table and stood up. What's going on? Was this the battle Jonadrin was talking about?
He glanced at June. The half-blood was still on the bed, his chest barely rising and falling. One look in the trail dimension told Nyxis enough. Hurry up, Xanthy.
Only the gods know how long June would hold up against the drawback progressing in his system. When Nyxis gave June treatment last night, most of the half-blood's systems had already shut down. June wouldn't feel his limbs. It's a miracle that he could still breathe on his own.
Nyxis glanced at the contraption he plugged into June's hand. It's no use force-feeding the half-blood considering his gut was no longer functioning. The only solution Nyxis came up with was force nourishment directly into the bloodstream. So far, it worked and bought June some time before Xanthy gets back.
A third explosion jarred Nyxis back to reality. He glanced at the tables, the alcove that led to the Palace's corridors, the water where the gigantic green pads floated on, and the window that showed him what was going on in the chasm. Smoke rose from the forest beyond Acosa. That couldn't be good.
He looked down at the bed where June lay with his eyes closed and extended his hands. A shield shimmered into existence around the half-blood. Nobody could sneak through that spell and if April decided to come after June, Nyxis would know.
Next, Nyxis strode towards the alcove, pressed his hands against the branches, and uttered the spell Eldan taught him. The branches cleared back before his eyes, their spindly bark and leaves parting to give way to him. A quick step through and he was out.
His boots slapped against the Palace's stone floor as he passed gardens, menageries, pedestals with bowls of water, and more walls made of intertwining branches. Not a soul milled about in the hallways. The wind and the roaring waterfall were the only ones with him as he tore through the Palace. Where was Jonadrin? Where was everyone?
"Do you promise to leave the forest untouched?" Jonadrin's voice floated from somewhere. Nyxis strained his ears. He followed it to the courtyard flanked by pillars with vines with branches as thick as arms and flowers as red as blood. He flattened himself against the wall and stole a peek at the inside.
All the nobles are present, seated in a large round table. Eldan was there as well. No sign of Marthiaq but who knew? That brownie was sneaky and devious as a mercok. Jonadrin and the Grand Monarch were in the farthest end of the room, standing with an eerily familiar girl.
