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)
“Those are a lot of ifs.”
“That is all I have to offer.”
He returns to my side. “Then that shall have to be good enough.” He extends his hand.
I hesitate a moment before accepting it in a firm clasp. Is this really happening? Is Kier’s king releasing a valuable hostage and handing him control of his own army?
To his guards, he orders, “Bring Arturo in.”
The guards disappear and return a moment later with a tall, gangly male of maybe thirty. When he sees me, he lifts his chin and puffs out his chest.
I stifle my laugh.
Behind him, Satoria floats in, dressed in the white robes of a wife.
I wait until this Arturo looks away before I wink at her.
The corners of her mouth curve ever so slightly.
“Atticus, this is my eldest surviving son. Arturo, this is the commander of Islor’s army, and for a time, the king of Islor itself.”
Arturo dips his head, but just barely.
I show him the same respect. Just barely.
“Atticus has agreed to lead our army and provide aid to his brother and Ybaris’s new queen.”
Arturo’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he does not agree with this decision, but at least he knows better than to open his mouth.
“As first in line to the throne, I am naming you regent to Kier, to govern in my absence,” King Cheral announces.
His meaning hits me as my eyes flash to him.
He chuckles. “You do not think me that reckless, do you?”
“Actually, it is a smart move. Why else would your soldiers listen to my orders, if not for their king standing beside me?”
He dips his head. “My thoughts exactly.”
I doubt that, but I don’t call him on the lie. The man has given me an army to steer, even if he has a hand on the yoke. “When do we leave?”
“Our ship will be ready within the hour.”
For the first time since I set foot on this blasted land, my smile feels genuine.
38
Romeria
Zander hunches over a makeshift table of wooden crates in the tent, studying a map that shows a rough sketch of Lyndel’s city streets and passageways. Lord Telor sat for hours, scribing for a young cartographer who worked fast with her pencils, explaining the complex maze of underground tunnels hidden deep below, meant for the nobility and the guards to move about. Now he leans on his staff next to Zander, answering questions as they plan for this battle that has my stomach in knots.
“These beasts must have entered through here, here”—Lord Telor notes, dragging his index finger—“and here. Though I do not know how they were aware of those entry points. Very few are.”
“If Malachi has a hand in this, then you must assume there is nothing he doesn’t know. But we must find a way to get the people into these tunnels so they cannot be used as shields. Otherwise, we may as well let the dragons burn the entire city down, for it is lost.” Zander looks up from the page to note me standing there. “Is there an issue?”
“No, I was hoping to talk to you for a minute?”
Lord Telor hears what I don’t say. Alone. “I must speak to my men.” With a bow, he hobbles out of the tent.
“I thought he would be completely healed by now.”
“Serenis said the internal damage from the beast might be too severe to heal completely.”
“Maybe I can try?”
“Good luck. He will tell you that you’ve wasted enough of your energy on him.” Zander stretches his lean, muscular arms over his head before pulling me into his chest for a brief embrace.
I sink against him, enjoying the feel of his body, even if for a fleeting moment. I imagine that’s all we’ll get for the next few days, at least.
His lips press against my temple. “How do you feel? Did you rest?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” I found a cot, sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but the next thing I knew, Jarek was shaking my shoulder to stir me awake. “I’m better.” Shielding Lyndel from Caindra’s fire nearly drained my affinities. Whatever I had left, I sapped healing Xiaric and creating that shield for the parley.
But the elemental threads ripple beneath my skin once again hours later. “Maybe next time I’ll block the giant flying bolts instead of an angry mother dragon.”
He chuckles. “We need to avoid a next time if there is to be a city left.”
“How is the planning going?”
“Honestly?” His hazel eyes rake over the drawing. “I wish my brother were here. He is far better than me at strategizing battles. He could see a pitfall and would pivot before anyone else knew what was happening.”
I remember that day at the royal hunt, in the tents, where they hovered over a map of Eldred Wood. Zander deferred to Atticus’s recommendation to use Gully’s Pass for their nethertaur hunt.