Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
I hold my breath as Malachi paces, bracing for him to lash out at me in anger. In this case, it would be deserved, even if he has no idea of the truth. “Is there another door we can use—”
“No!”
I purse my lips to keep from offering more suggestions that will earn me nothing but punishment.
“Any word from Lyndel yet?” he snaps.
“No, Your Highness. Perhaps my letter did not arrive.” That these beasts are capable of reading is shocking to me.
“Or it means there was no one alive there to receive it. They failed at capturing the city or they lost it quickly after. That is the only explanation.” Malachi nods to himself, his jaw taut. “Just as well. The main army moves swiftly for them, and it is time I joined. I have gotten too comfortable here, feasting and entertaining. My presence is needed on the battlefield.”
Panic stirs. “But your army is unmatched. Allow them to sacrifice themselves in your honor. That is what Mal’Gar is for.”
He shakes his head. “Sometimes, a king must lead the rabble.”
“But why put yourself in danger?” That is Elijah’s body he risks.
He smiles. “I will not be in danger, because you will be at my side to protect me at all times, at all costs, yes?”
I swallow as my worry swells. “Of course, my love. I will not allow anything to happen to you.”
“It is time our opponents learned there is no hope for them.” He snaps his fingers at the Saur’goths. “Gather the army. Inform the lords and ladies we leave within the hour, and they will be accompanying us.”
55
Romeria
We descend toward the plains at first light, having left long before the hint of morning touched the sky. I feel nauseous. The last time I spoke to Atticus was that night in the Goat’s Knoll in Cirilea, when he had no idea it was me behind the mask.
I can’t imagine how Zander must feel. He hasn’t faced his brother since the tournament, when Atticus betrayed him in front of the kingdom.
How will this exchange go?
Will it be cathartic?
Disastrous?
Did I save Atticus before only to be forced to kill him today? Warning letter or not, I do not trust him, that much I will make clear. But the letter does feel like an olive branch. If only he had valued the one Zander and I sent first.
The plateau ahead where Zander thought they might be is covered in tents. Beyond it, in all directions, is farmland, peppered with the countless villages whose residents tend to the crops. In the far distance is the rift.
Shouts erupt from below as the camp stirs, much like they would react at the rift when we flew in, soldiers scrambling for weapons that won’t save them, gathering shields that won’t protect them, should we be here to attack.
“Over there!” Zander points to low ground beyond the plateau, out of range of their arrows. It’s a good plan. Atticus will have to come to us.
Caindra banks left with a deafening screech, and the three enormous beasts cast their shadows. The soldiers below duck, even as they watch with a mixture of awe and terror as we pass. We land in the clearing and take our positions in front of the dragons, Jarek and Abarrane closing in on our flanks, and Elisaf and Solange behind them.
Zander purses his lips, the tension visible in his shoulders. “Now we wait.”
“Thirty, by my count,” Elisaf notes as the group rides down the ridge.
Atticus leads them, looking as pompous as I remember, his blond curls framing his handsome face. “Is that King Cheral beside him?” He’s much older and distinguished-looking, his silver hair and beard groomed.
“I would assume so, based on his armor and his age. Atticus’s letter did say they traveled here together.”
“When have you ever known the king of Kier to come to Islor?” Jarek asks.
“Never. Not since the blood curse took hold and certainly not after having the audacity to invade our lands.”
“Then he needs something from you as desperately as you need strength from him.”
Zander nods. “That is what I’m hoping for.”
“Who is that?” I watch the form cloaked in heavy red robes, the hood drawn.
“A conjurer,” Lucretia materializes out of thin air, startling us.
“I fucking knew you were with me. I could feel you,” Jarek snarls.
“That is because I wanted you to, Commander,” she purrs, earning Abarrane’s snort.
“That is a conjurer?” Zander pushes, drawing our attention back to the approaching group. “Kier has a conjurer?”
“I cannot say where her allegiances lie, but that is what she is.”
“And what can she do?”
“It depends how strong she is and what her intentions are.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. I’m not the only one irritated by Lucretia’s vague answers. “Can you shield us until we can answer both of those questions?”
I draw on Vin’nyla, building a solid wall of air between us. “Done.”