Samson shrugged. “I’m not sure. Could be months from now, perhaps a year. Farin doesn’t tell me everything.”
“We will have to strike faster, if the peace talks fail.” And Leo knew they would.
“I will, but we need to keep up appearances,” Samson said. “Invite him. Talk to him. Pretend that you and Elena are earnest in your commitment to peace while I pretend that my fealty is still with him.”
“Farin and I cannot sit in one room for long,” Leo said. He did not mention how Farin’s metal eye unnerved him. “Besides, he’s a horrible dancer.”
Samson grinned. “Jantari metalmen usually are. You just have to grease their joints a bit. It’s nothing Elena and I can’t handle.”
Leo pursed his lips. He wondered how well his daughter and Samson were getting along. Though they had only known each other for a matter of weeks, Elena could charm anyone. That was her gift. But did she know of the gravity of marriage? His had not been long, but still, a healthy royal couple meant a strong kingdom, a continued royal line… heavens, he was starting to sound like his own father.
“Fine. Send the invitation,” Leo said finally. “Though I hardly believe Farin will come.”
“Oh, he will,” Samson said. “Especially if Elena and I enclose our personal greetings.”
As if that would make any difference to Farin.But Leo kept that thought to himself.
Arish joined them at the upper level of the hoverpod, bearing a cup of tea.
“For your headache, sir,” he said, and Leo smiled.
“Heavens bless you, Arish.”
After thirty suns, Arish had learned to read all his mannerisms. The Astra had also proved to be the most insightful person in his court; he had an uncanny way of recognizing and predicting the future. He was the first to tell Leo about Yassen Knight’s defection, and when Leo had pushed further, Arish had simply answered that he had heard so from a nomad in the market. Leo had no need to doubt him. Arish had strange ways of procuring information, but his information had always proven correct. And he made great tea.
Leo took a sip and almost sighed in contentment. It was delightfully warm and soothing.
He looked out the window. Thick clouds layered the horizon, and without the sun, the desert looked harder, full of sharp edges rather than delicate curves. And there were shadows. Long, black specters that cut across the sand to claw their way toward him.
And then a creeping sensation chilled the blood in his veins. Leo suddenly felt as if his body was not his own, that he was floating. He looked down and saw himself sitting by the hoverpod window, Arish and Samson sitting before him. He could see Arish’s lips move, but there was no sound. He tried to cry out. He tapped the window, but neither man turned.
The world turned and shifted into watercolors of grey. The hoverpod dissolved. He was floating over the desert, the dunes stretching on for miles in every direction. The sky began to melt in thick, heavy drops. When it hit the ground, the sand hissed. It blurred beneath him, stretching and mutating until he was floating over a valley.
Leo gasped.
There, burned in the valley, were two runes.
One was a leafless tree. The other was a simple circle with a singular dot in its center. Leo reached for them.
The desert screamed. Shards of sand cut through his body. He fell.
“Stop,” he cried. “Stop!”
“Your Majesty?”
Leo opened his eyes to see Arish and Samson staring at him.
“Stop what?” the Astra asked. “We’re nearly at the outpost.”
Leo stood, his heart hammering. He was in the hoverpod, the dunes rolling beneath him without pause as they flew north. Gone were the harsh shadows.
Leo swiped sweat from his brow. His vision swam, and he stumbled. Arish flung out an arm to steady him.
“I—I—” he stuttered.
Arish gently lowered him back into his seat. Leo felt as if someone were pushing needles into his brain. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking.
“I saw something in the desert,” he said. His voice was thin, raspy. “Runes.”
