Why would I want to destroy a place like this?
Unnerved, I continued walking with the Mage to the Academy.
“I didn’t catch your name,” I said quietly, and the man smiled. His face was so open and kind, so unlike the picture of Academy heathens I’d painted in my mind, that I jolted slightly.
“Felix,” the Mage stuck out his hand for me to shake. I grasped his calloused palm with my own and gave it a firm squeeze.
“Pleasure to meet you, Felix,” I said honestly, and I was rewarded with another blinding smile.
“There might still be hope for you yet, southern lord,” he teased. “Come, Torin d’Eshu. Let me introduce you to General d’Alvey, the de facto leader of Vespera while Lord d’Refan is away and the commander of the Academy and Vesperan Army.”
My gut tightened into a knot and my palms instantly became clammy.
I’d met the General twice before; once as myself and once in Isrun as Cael, the Commander of the Last Keeper’s army. I shakily climbed the stairs of the Academy, desperately trying to conceal my nerves.
Maybe he won’t recognize me from before.
The only reason General d’Alveydidn’trecognize me in Isrun was a powerful Illusion Rune the Matriarch, under the guidance of Solace, had engraved on a necklace I wore that night.
Now, I was afforded no such protections.
I barely noticed the menacing all-black stone or the sharp angles of the Academy spires as we climbed the steps, so lost in my thoughts and worries.
What will he do? Will I be banished? Will he kill me outright with that Destruction Magic of his?
I breathed steadily through my nose as Felix rattled off short facts about the Academy and Vespera. I desperately wanted to listen to him—to glean any valuable information—but I couldn’t focus on anything other than the thumping of my own heart.
“Ah! Here he is!” Felix announced as he rubbed his hands together, the sound like grating sandpaper to my heightened senses.
We approached a tall man with hair so dark brown it was nearly black. He wore the same Mage blacks as everyone else in the Academy and army but was slightly distinguishable by the two gold bars on his shoulders.
The General.
His prowess and abilities were legendary; a god amongst men.
I almost laughed at the obscure and incorrect thought.
There are gods amongst men, but it is not Rohak d’Alvey.
The General halted his conversation with another man—this one had large glasses that magnified his eyes to an alarming degree—who walked away muttering something about a “Charise.”
“General, this is . . .” Felix started, gesturing to me.
“Torin d’Eshu,” I interrupted quickly, trying to infuse as much confidence in my tone as I could before sticking my hand out to the General.
The General slowly turned his gem-green eyes from my proffered hand up, up, up until they landed on my face. His sharp brows were drawn in a deep frown, and he blinked twice before a look of surprise flashed across his face.
“Torin . . .” He dragged out my name as if tasting it before narrowing his eyes once more. “Or should I say, Cael?”
Well, shit.
Chapter 54
Torin
“Felix, return to the gates and inform the remainder of the guard to be on the lookout for any other rebel sympathizers that might try to come through with the refugees. Double the searches and use magic, if necessary, to ascertain the truth,” the General barked at a poor, confused Felix, both men’s eyes still trained on me.
I slowly lowered my hand to my side when it was clear the General was not going to shake it.
