Total pages in book: 201
Estimated words: 191006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 955(@200wpm)___ 764(@250wpm)___ 637(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 955(@200wpm)___ 764(@250wpm)___ 637(@300wpm)
“And you know this how?”
“A letter from Neilina, delivered by the Ybarisans to Romeria. I have read it myself. It is true.”
He curses. “Does the king know this?”
“I’ve written to inform him. Whether he acts is another story.”
Telor curses again, his horse shifting to and fro with his growing agitation. “Armies have scattered across Islor, chasing after this poison. His Highness’s focus is on keeping Cirilea and binding Kettling. They will never be able to gather and make it to the rift in time.”
“No, likely not. Atticus cannot do much but rule from the throne. That leaves your army, ours, and anyone we can gather along the way. I’ve already written to Bellcross, pleading for Rengard’s aid.” Fortunately among the generous supplies Theon granted us were several messenger pigeons, trained to reach him.
The corner of Telor’s mouth quirks. “You wish to bring the Ybarisans to the rift to fight the Ybarisans.”
“Yes. As well as an army of saplings.”
His bellow of laughter carries. “You really have gone mad, my friend.”
“You do not know the half of it.” I waver over the urge to hold tight to what I know, protect Romeria a little longer. But I relied on secrecy and lies to rule before, and it ended up not serving me well. Besides, we won’t be able to keep this to ourselves much longer. Not when the Nulling opens on Hudem, and untold creatures crawl out. “What if I told you that, after two thousand years, the end to the blood curse is upon us, and the answers lie within the kingdom you see before you and the queen who rules it? One who wants peace for all.”
A slow breath slips from his lips. “I would very much like to meet this queen.”
“I can arrange that.”
Behind Telor, Braylon and his two riders approach. “Your son has grown too impatient to wait, I see.”
“Hold your ground. We are not finished yet!” Lord Telor demands without glancing behind him, but the riders keep moving in at a steady trot.
Behind me, hooves pound, moving more urgently. Rushing to catch up to their counterparts.
Telor scowls. “This generation … they do not show proper respect to decorum or rank.”
I chuckle, listening to Telor complain about his son a nostalgic song in my ear for all the times I’ve heard him say similar things in the past.
But the comfort evaporates as Braylon and his men draw their weapons.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ROMERIA
“What’s going on?” Only a moment ago, I heard a man’s laugh. Now the three soldiers who accompanied Telor are closing in. It’s difficult for me to see in the growing darkness, but I didn’t notice Telor beckoning them.
“Pups who do not follow orders,” Jarek says.
“We should go in, too, then.”
“He would signal us if he were concerned.” But Abarrane’s horse dances in place.
Zander is alone, too far from a flame. Still, he hasn’t drawn his weapon or hinted that anything’s off. Maybe Abarrane is right, but I don’t like the ratio. “Can you place a shield on him, Gesine?”
“Not from this distance. Especially not when I have this bird in my head. It is distracting.”
I forgot. She shares the taillok’s vision, and it’s in flight. We should have waited to send the message. She’s virtually useless to us when we need her most.
“I don’t like this. Something feels off.”
“Who is that male?” Kienen asks. “The one leading.”
“Lord Braylon Telor,” Jarek answers. “Telor’s son.”
“Why?” I ask.
Kienen meets my gaze, assessing me as if I’m a puzzle he can’t solve.
“What is it?” I snap.
He pulls his horse up, filling the space Zander once took. “The elven who met with Tyree was wearing that helm.”
“The one with the horns. Are you sure?”
“I am positive.”
Alarm bells ring. I kick my heels into my horse’s flanks, launching it forward. Behind me, hooves thump, but I can only focus ahead, my heart walloping inside my chest.
Is Braylon working against his father?
Or with him?
Neither scenario plays out well for our cause.
For weeks now, Zander has held out hope that he could sway Lord Telor, that Lyndel is the start to winning back loyalty and his throne, one house at a time.
All four affinities crackle under my skin, waiting to be unleashed on these traitors. I will scorch the earth where they stand if anything happens to Zander.
I’ve closed half the distance when the approaching soldiers draw weapons. My fear surges. I launch an air shield in front of Zander a split second before an arrow flies toward him. It strikes the invisible wall and ricochets away.
Metal rings as Zander draws his blade.
But it’s Lord Telor who roars. “What is the meaning of this!” He spins his horse, rearing on his men. “Stay your—”
My jaw drops as Braylon Telor drives his sword deep under his father’s arm where the armor has an opening before dragging it clean.