“Honestly, I don’t particularly give a damn,” Tam grumbled, closing his eyes. “All I want is to get away from this stupid war and be left alone. We should pick up and run for the border. Lyebel isn’t on fire anymore.”
“If the Crell win here, it could be soon. You’ve heard the rumors—you know how badly the war is going. And it’s not like we can just go back to Celenest and schmooze with the queen. Not after what we know about her.”
“Which could also be a lie,” Tam added, though he didn’t sound particularly convinced. “Look, all I’m saying is that we just traveled halfway across Torsia and back to hunt this guy down, and now we’re planning on helping him? Ridiculous doesn’t even begin to describe it. And you’re the last person in the world I would have expected to stick up for an idiotic decision.”
Sarina grunted but didn’t reply. She didn’t like the situation any better than Tam did, but she also didn’t see a viable alternative. They couldn’t touch Ethan, at least not until the battle was over, and they did want to see Galvia free. At least if they stuck around to fight the Crell, they would be able to keep their eyes on Ethan…
“Sorry to take this out on you,” Tam said after a moment. “It’s just frustrating. Jace has been haunted by his dad’s shadow forever, and now that we’re finally in a position to do something about it, our hands are tied.”
Sarina nodded solemnly. “Why do you think I punched him?”
Tam snorted, and a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “I only wish you’d knocked out some teeth. You must have been holding back.”
“I used my left hand.”
He actually chuckled for a few seconds, but then his smile faded. “You know what’s truly absurd? Right now I’m more worried about Queen Krystia than anything else. Assuming Ethan’s not lying about her.”
“Jason thinks he’s telling the truth, and so do I. I never trusted Krystia to begin with.”
“That’s because you were jealous.”
“Hardly,” Sarina scoffed. “I knew there was something wrong with her the moment we met in Celenest. And it seemed way too bloody convenient that she, the only free Unbound in Solaria, just happened to be around when Areekan was assassinated.”
“Regardless, I’m tempted to head right for the source,” Tam said. “We could travel to Celenest and confront her.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know, talk to the Alliance Council? They should know the truth.”
“Solaria is having enough problems without a civil war. Anything we do would just ensure a Crell victory.”
Tam sighed. “See, this is exactly why I never wanted to get involved in the first place. I hate politics, and I really hate feeling helpless. Our leader is a demigod, and we’re lugging around enough gold to buy a small country…yet there isn’t a damn thing we can do to help anyone.”
Sarina closed her eyes and nodded. She understood his frustration completely. To an Asgardian, feeling helpless was the worst fate imaginable. They had traveled to Talisham with a clear purpose, and their plans had quickly been dashed to pieces. They had traveled here to Galvia with an ever clearer purpose, and now once again their plan hadn’t survived the initial engagement. She struggled to remember the last time things had actually unfolded the way they had hoped…
“Ethan was definitely right about one thing,” Tam whispered into the silence. “I guess it’s time for us to finally make a choice. We either join the war or we don’t.”
“And you’d rather not.”
“I’d rather survive and enjoy my gold, but since that’s obviously not going to happen…” He grunted. “You know, I think half the reason I didn’t mind traveling to Talisham was that it felt like an escape. As long as we were there, I could pretend there was nothing else going on. But I guess playtime is finally over.”
“I think it was over the moment we were attacked by a demigod, in case you’ve forgotten about that.”
“Yeah,” Tam murmured. “That’s the other thing. Even if we left right now, the Watchers would catch up to us eventually. We can’t hide from them, and we can’t hide from this war.”
On impulse, Sarina reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then maybe we should stop trying.”
He glanced over at the side of the tent. They couldn’t actually see what was going on, nor could they hear anything through Jason’s sound-proof bubble. But they could imagine, and that was bad enough.
“Just promise me that if Ethan tries anything, you won’t stop me from killing him.”
“I won’t have to,” Sarina said, smiling. “Because I will kill him first.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Solaria was lost the instant Areekan died. It is time to start planning for the future.”
—Lord Edgar Margrove, shortly before leaving Celenest
“I’m still not certain this is a good idea,” Major Lennox murmured as another patrol of griffon riders soared past overhead. “Every soldier we commit to the north is one less on the walls here. At the very least, I’d rather garrison our men in Lyebel or Garos just in case the Crell decide to open another front.”
“We can’t fight a defensive war forever,” Darius replied. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have tried to fight one at all…”
He sighed and leaned over the edge of the battlements. The pitiful remnants of what had once been the Third Solarian Legion were busy training behind Celenest’s long, winding walls. Many of the soldiers were completely disillusioned at this point—he didn’t need to be a channeler to sense the doubt and fear hanging in the air like a thick fog. Combat drills gave the men something to focus on, at least in the short-term, and Darius had also ordered the construction of as many new ballistae as they could feasibly assemble with their current supplies. They were slow and unwieldy, as far as modern siege weapons went, but they could occasionally hit slow-flying dragons or groll. Mostly, though, he just wanted to keep his men occupied until they had a real victory to celebrate.
“Amberwood wasn’t your fault, General,” Lennox said after a moment. “And neither was Garos or Blackburn or Lanesk any of our other losses. You’ve done the best you could under extraordinary circumstances. The loss of King Areekan—”
“I don’t need anyone to lick my boot, Major,” Darius interrupted. “I have never shirked blame before, and I’m not about to start now. We’re losing, and I accept full responsibility. My job now is to figure out a way to crawl free of the hole I’ve dug.”
The older man grunted and crossed his arms. “With all due respect, sir, liberating Ashenfel won’t change anything. None of the queen’s advisors have the courage to speak the harsh truth, but the Galvian people are broken. They have no army and no easily-attainable resources. There’s a reason the Sovereigns have diverted their armies elsewhere.”
Lennox was right, of course. After a decade of Crell plundering and several failed rebellions, Galvia was effectively spent. The remaining nobles had all pledged themselves to the Sovereigns to ensure their own survival, and the merchant caste had quickly followed suit. All that remained were starving peasants, crime-infested cities, and a legacy of a bygone age that would soon be forgotten. Galvia was a window into Izaria’s past.
And a vision of Solaria’s future.
“It was the queen’s decision to commit forces to Ashenfel,” Darius said after a moment. “She didn’t inform me until the orders had already been sent.”
Lennox frowned. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but that seems very…out of character. Her Majesty has relied upon your judgment ever since she took the throne.”
“Yes, she has. But I fear that time may be coming to an end.”
“Sir?”
Darius sighed. “Forget about it,” he murmured, silently scolding himself for bringing it up in the first place. The situation was bleak enough without him blathering on about his personal troubles. “Anyway, the troops are already committed, so there’s nothing we can do now besides wait. With luck, our presence in
Ashenfel will buy us more time to mount a counterattack.”
“Yes, sir,” Lennox said, nodding. Mercifully, he knew better than to press the issue. “On another note, there is a young man I would like you to meet. He was with the villagers at Amberwood, and he managed to escape with his family.”
Darius cocked an eyebrow. “If you want to recruit him, you should direct him to—”
“He’s too young to fight, sir,” Lennox interrupted, “but I think you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”
“All right,” Darius said. If nothing else, his interest was piqued. “Lead the way.”
They made their way down off the battlements and into the city proper where the priests had set up temporary housing for the Amberwood refugees. Their food and supply stores were being pushed to the limit, but for now, at least, the situation was reasonably stable. If the shipments from the west were even a few days late, however, things would quickly take a turn for the worst…
He pushed the thought aside as they maneuvered through the camp towards a group of Lennox’s assistants. They were speaking with one of the families, and when they noticed their superiors’ approach they instantly snapped to attention.
“General Iouna,” the men breathed in near unison. The villagers, for their part, almost cowered at the sight of him.
“Be at ease,” Darius soothed, flashing them his warmest smile. “What’s the situation?”
“Their son spotted something interesting during our flight from Amberwood,” Lennox said. “Please, bring the boy here and let him tell the general what he saw.”
The mother nodded and peeked back into their small tent. A few moments later a boy no older than twelve or thirteen seasons slinked out behind her.
“Hello again, son,” Lennox said, smiling and taking a knee. “How are you feeling?”
“G-good, sir,” the boy murmured. Judging from his frame and tanned completion, he was almost certainly from a farm. He was probably one of the survivors from Lanesk, if Darius had to guess.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Lennox said. “I wondered if you would be willing to tell General Iouna what you saw at Amberwood.”
The child’s eyes popped open wide. “General…”
“It’s all right,” Darius assured him. He had never been particularly good with children, but he did his best not to appear threatening. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
“Just tell him what you told me, son,” Lennox said.
The boy glanced to his mother, then up to Darius. “The soldiers said we needed to leave the fort as soon as possible, but I couldn’t find my parents,” he said, his voice so soft it was difficult to hear. “While I was looking for them, I saw someone on the bridge above.”
“Someone?” Darius asked, exchanging a glance with Lennox. “Who?”
“The gray elf that saved our home,” the boy said. “She ran out onto the bridge like she was going to hold off the entire Crell army.”
Darius’s breath caught in his chest. “Did you see anything else?”
“Y-yes, sir. Another woman came up to her from behind. I didn’t recognize her, but…”
“Tell him the rest, son,” Lennox prompted.
The boy nodded. “The elf fell over, and the woman carried her off. I don’t know where they went. I-I had to find my parents.”
Darius inhaled sharply and leaned backwards. If Elade hadn’t been there when the Crell had flooded into the upper city, then she could still be alive…
“Thank you,” Lennox said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “The General and I appreciate your time.”
The major spoke with the family for a few more seconds, but Darius was no longer listening. He warned himself over and over about not getting his hopes up, but it didn’t work. Elade was alive. Now they just had to figure out where she was…and the identity of this mystery woman who had taken her.
“It’s always possible that he was mistaken,” Lennox said once they were out of earshot from the family. “Stress can make people see strange things, and this boy already watched Elade save his house and family in Lanesk. But I suspect he’s telling the truth.”
Darius cleared his throat and struggled to find his voice. “Do we have any other information about this mystery woman?”
“Not much, but a few of the other soldiers claimed that they saw a teenage girl heading in that direction. But there was so much chaos that it’s impossible to know for certain.”
“Teenage girl…” Darius whispered, his mind racing. “Has anyone seen that Izarian girl Elade brought with her from Lirisfal?”
“No, but there are a lot of refugees to keep track of,” Lennox said. “I can ask around and see.”
“Her name was Sabine, I believe. Elade thought there was something unusual about her—she risked a great deal by attacking the Zarul. Maybe there was more to her than we thought.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
“Not really, but there’s no point in speculating yet anyway,” Darius said. “Ask around and see if you can find her. I’m going to let the queen know that Elade might still be alive.”
Half an hour later, Darius arrived at the palace. He maneuvered through the winding corridors with practiced ease, and none of the nobles or supplicants dared to get in his way. Krystia had evidently retired to her chambers for the night, and he waved off the two guardsmen outside her door.
They didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, General,” the guard on the right said, “but the queen left specific instructions that she does not wish to be disturbed.”
Darius stopped in place at frowned. “What?”
“She was very clear on the matter, sir,” the other guard put in. “No one is to be allowed inside—not even you.”
“I am the High General of the Solarian Legion,” Darius said, shifting his scowl from one man to the other. “I also happen to be betrothed to Her Majesty.”
“We know, sir,” the first guard said. Thus far, he hadn’t even flinched. “Her orders stand. I’m sure she’ll be willing to speak with you in the morning.”
A flood of rage and frustration surged through Darius’s veins, but they were quickly replaced with the colder, darker currents of dread. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and he took a step backwards and let out a deep breath. He had known that Krystia was annoyed with him for speaking out about Sovan and the Unbound, but this went beyond a little tiff. Something was seriously wrong here…and he needed to figure out what.
“Very well,” he murmured, glancing back and forth between the guards. “I’m going to have a little chat with your commander.”
“Guard-Captain Baras will tell you the same thing, General, but you are more than welcome to speak with him.”
“I will,” Darius said, then turned on a heel and left. Before doing anything, he needed to get ahold of his own personal guard. Something was going on here, and he had a feeling it was about to get worse.
***
It was still early when Krystia slipped into her bed and pulled her blanket up to her chin. She had been retiring earlier and earlier each day, actually, in no small part because she never seemed to get any real sleep anymore. After she had first absorbed Areekan’s divine spark several months ago, she had stayed awake for nearly three days straight—the flood of memories and knowledge had been so intense that she had struggled to do much of anything. But even once her conscious mind had finally caught up with the divine spark, she had found it difficult to truly relax. She’d felt like an Unbound child again, completely unable to control the flood of external thoughts and emotions. Her conventional telepathic exercises had proven useless, and it had taken weeks for her to adapt.
Now she felt like that control was slipping away once again. In the days following the Legion’s defeat at Amberwood, her mental stability had been rapidly deteriorating. She could feel the confusion hanging over the city like a storm cloud, and she could see the doubt in the minds of those who had once been her closest friends. Behind their fo
rced smiles and fraudulent laughter, the people had lost faith in their queen. And slowly but surely, their growing despair was driving her insane.
Krystia closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Sovan would return from the Hatchery either late tonight or tomorrow morning, and together they could plan a demonstration to restore the people’s spirits. If the sight of a few dozen fully-grown dragons couldn’t stir their hearts, she didn’t know what would. Lady Savilen and the rest of the Council would finally be forced to acknowledge that Krystia had everything under control.
It was then, just before her mind and heart finally started to settle, that she felt a small telepathic ripple in the Aether.
Her eyes flicked open. At first the disturbance was barely perceptible; it was rather like someone was humming on the opposite end of a long corridor. She held herself completely still and silent, and after a few seconds she wondered if she had just imagined the whole thing. But then the “sound” slowly intensified, and as she opened her mind and senses to the Aether, the buzzing became so loud she could have sworn there was a bee inside her ear. She had never sensed anything like it before, but soon the telepathic dissonance became so distracting it blocked out everything else.
Taking in a deep breath, Krystia sat upright and began to methodically wall off her mind. She employed this technique whenever she needed to block her thoughts from Sovan and the other Unbound, and it appeared to work—the buzz faded back into a distant hum. Unfortunately, the disturbance continued shuddering through the Aether…and she had no idea where it was coming from or how she could stop it.
Grimacing, she tossed aside her covers and leapt over to her window. She half-expected a Crell army to be laying siege to the city outside, but the courtyard and surrounding streets were as peaceful as ever. Griffon riders soared back and forth across the night sky, visible only when the moonlight glinted off their white feathers. Several of her priests maintained their vigil from the palisades near the main gate, and the royal guardsmen continued their patrols as if nothing was out of place.
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