Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“Oh, he wakes. And he will make the surface,” Jorie confirmed. Finishing ominously, “Soon.”
I had no response to that, partially because Jorie seemed so unconcerned, but I, on the other hand, was very much the opposite.
He explained this presently.
“We took care of this the last time for the humans of Triton, and where did it get us?”
I knew very well where it got my people.
At first, I had no response to this either.
And then I asked, “If you are so angry, if you wish to remain detached, if you do not wish to come to the aid of Triton, then why do you want to speak to my husband? Why did you pull him and I under? Why are we here?”
He scowled at me.
He did this for quite some time.
And then he said words that seemed dragged from him.
But they were words that gave me hope.
“I wish to meet my sister.”
116
The Dawn of the End
King True
One Hundred Miles over the Border
AIREN
“Sire, a bird,” a corporal said, handing True the ribbon of parchment.
True nodded to him as the soldier saluted and then walked away.
True unrolled the ribbon, and by the still-moonlit, pre-dawn sky, he read the message from one of his scouts.
12,000. Base of Heights. Blocked in. Riders unable to get through. Ravens down. Enemy preparing to attack.
“Bram!” True shouted, crumbling the missive in a fist and marching in the direction where he’d seen his friend disappear some minutes before. “Bram!” he repeated, men he passed looking to him, some breaking from huddles, he knew, to find Bram for True.
Thus, in half a minute, he saw Bram jogging his way.
“The men need to prepare to ride, now,” True ordered. “We’re going to the Heights, not the Bay, and we need to make haste. Find Wally and Luther. They escort Farah back to Notting Thicket.”
“What the hell is going on?” Bram asked.
“Twelve thousand of the allied gentry militia surround Cassius and Elena at the base of the Heights. We lost riders trying to get them warning. They’re shooting down ravens that would do the same. They’re blocked in and the enemy is poised to attack.”
“Fuck,” Bram bit, turned and started to sprint way, when True stopped him.
“Bird to Alfie. I want reinforcements from Wodell. A regiment to bolster the Bay, a regiment making haste, following us. Also, a bird to Mars. He must send his men in from the south. And get messages to Aramus and the Citadel. They need to know if they don’t already.”
Bram nodded shortly and resumed his sprint.
True turned on his boot and strode to his tent.
By the time he arrived, he saw it had been struck, and Farah, dressed and cloaked, ready to ride, was standing by her mount, Regina, stroking her neck, talking to Helga.
He went direct to her, but she noted him before his arrival, and he noted she did not miss the expression on his face.
“Caro,” she whispered. “What more could have happened?”
They had lost Ophelia to the veil in the night.
Now he was too far away to make certain they would not lose Elena and Cassius in the day.
And this knowledge that his friends were in danger and he was too far away to help was eating him from the inside.
“We’ve had a message. If the war has not already begun, it will soon. You need to return to the Thicket,” he told her.
She dropped her hands from her horse and turned to fully face him.
“True,” she said softly.
“You will make haste. Wallace and Luther will be your guard.”
“I go with you.”
For a moment, he was thrown.
“You can’t ride into battle with me, Farah.”
“I can’t leave you,” she returned.
“You don’t know of what you speak,” he shot back. “Airen is now dangerous. We ride intent to engage and thus now are officially the enemy. We are too far away from the Bay to get you to Cassius’s stronghold safely, and regardless, that detour would take time we do not have. Thus, I need you home immediately.”
“I cannot leave you.”
“Farah, you cannot go,” he clipped.
“I can be of help. My magic—”
“You can barely control your magic,” he gritted, his legendary patience waning.
For reason.
He needed her on her horse.
He needed to know she was headed to safety.
And he needed to get to their friends.
She looked to Helga and something passed between them he would find in Farah’s next words that he did not like.
For she lifted her chin, straightened her spine and decreed, “I ride with my husband.”
“I will never, not ever, order you to do something, or forbid you from doing something,” he retorted. “Except in times like this.”
“I ride with my husband,” she repeated.
“Gods dammit, Farah,” he bit.
“I ride,” she lifted her hands and swept them to her side, and with them up came the fallen leaves all around. They formed a funnel about them with a wind that whipped her cloak, his mantle, and both their hair. This, before she finished, “With my husband!”