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)
The tent erupts as questions pile on top of each other.
I raise a hand for silence. “I do not know how or where they are coming in. Certainly not through the Valley of Bones.”
“I fear creatures have found other paths. The rift is long, and we have received reports of an attack on villages farther east.” Gaellar wears a new silver scar across her cheek.
“We’ve received reports of the same on the Ybarisan side,” Kienen confirms.
“How did you fare at the rift last night?” I ask.
“Busy, but nowhere near so as the first.” His brow furrows. “I’ve heard rumors amongst the casters of problems in Mordain.”
“There was a small problem, but the issue has been resolved. We have more pressing concerns to focus on.”
“But we have the Prime’s support?” he pushes. “They will not abandon us?”
I see where his worries lie. “Romeria is now Prime so, no, Mordain’s casters will remain. The Shadow leader will return soon.”
Both Kienen’s and Elisaf’s mouths are agape, earning my chuckle, despite the dour situation.
“For now, we must decide how to proceed here. It would appear they plan to hold the city.”
“With innocent people trapped inside.” Lord Telor’s teeth clench.
“Yes, it seems they are using them to keep us from destroying the city in a blaze with the dragons. For now,” I add quietly. I have never met a beast who shows kindness or mercy.
“I don’t suppose there’s much room for negotiation with them.” Theon stands with arms folded, a worried mask marring his typical calm.
“Who wishes to attempt to parley with that?” Abarrane points at the corpse.
“I will go.” Lord Telor’s jaw sets with determination. “It is my city, and these are my people. We must know what the enemy’s goal is here.”
I settle a hand on his shoulder. “And I will go with you, friend.”
“Not without me.” Romeria ducks in past the flap, her eyes red-tinged from her efforts healing the dragon. Jarek is on her heels. No one needs a reminder to bow as she passes.
When she spots Elisaf, her face splits with a wide smile.
“Have you ever imagined a queen so happy to see you,” Elisaf murmurs, matching her joy.
“Me? Of course. Not many can resist this face.” Radomir smooths a palm over his trim beard.
I chuckle, appreciating the moment of levity. “How is Xiaric?”
“Healed, though he’ll have a scar. Just like his father.”
“And Caindra?”
“Still looking like she’s two seconds from flying back to torch the entire city.” She nods toward Lord Telor. “It’s good to see you up.”
“I am beginning to think I am more resilient than a daaknar, thanks to you.” He dips his chin in greeting. “How do you fair, Your Highness? The last I laid eyes on you, you were helping to dismember a nethertaur.”
“She has been busy dismembering Mordain with her clever tricks since.” I smooth my hand over the back of her neck.
“Yes, Prime now too?” Kienen mock frowns.
“Just call me Genghis,” she mutters, earning confused looks from others and a laugh from me. She is hardly a tyrannical, murdering conqueror. “So, what’s the plan?” she asks, sparing a disgusted sneer for the dead soldier on the ground.
“Simple. We divide our forces between the rift and Lyndel, so we can keep them in the city rather than having them close in on our backs at night. Then we need to figure out what they hope to achieve here.” Is it merely a show of Malachi’s power, or is it tactical?
“We will ready everyone.” Gaellar and Kienen bow and depart swiftly.
“Speaking of threats.” Lord Telor slips out a letter tucked inside his breastplate. I instantly recognize the seal with the flame imprint. “A squire delivered a letter from Cirilea yesterday.”
Romeria shares a look with me. “King Malachi?”
“Yes.”
“I imagine one sits in Bellcross, but I have not yet received word,” Theon adds.
“May I see it?”
With a nod, Telor hands me the letter.
I have ended the blood curse. I am your new ruler. All will kneel before me.
My jaw tenses. “Very short and to the point. Almost not worth the effort.” I hand it to Romeria.
“He’s claiming that he ended to blood curse!” Indignation sparks across her face. “He caused all of this!”
“Islor is not the only realm who has received such a message.” Elisaf’s expression is almost apologetic. “Kienen confirmed that a similar one arrived at the front line only hours ago, by messenger bird.”
Romeria’s eyes widen. “He sent them to Ybaris too?”
“He has his sights set on more than Islor. Do not be surprised if Mordain and Kier hear from him as well. There could be one waiting in Argon for you.”
Romeria says something incoherent under her breath as she studies the letter closer. “Nice penmanship.”
“Great care in those rounded strokes,” Elisaf agrees. “Dare I say, feminine.”
“He didn’t write this,” she says. “Sofie did.”
“You’re likely right,” I agree. As if the Fate of Fire would sit at a desk and write out letters to those he deems beneath him. “And there isn’t any mention of the war at the rift or his plans for Islor.”