Like Ellowyn.
“I could enroll at the Academy,” I stated bluntly. At first, my three closest advisors simply looked at me with owlish gazes, eyes wide and unblinking before they all spoke at once.
“Absolutely not.”
“He’ll find you immediately!”
“It’s too dangerous! Let someone else do it.”
I held up my hand, and they instantly fell silent. Folami might be able to command with her voice, but my actions always spoke loudest. Which was the reason the Matriarch put me in charge of all of her armies with Folami as my second. I thought I’d live and die in service to the Matriarch.
Until I discovered the truth . . .
I mentally shook my head, clearing the thought for later. The Matriarch’s deception was not the important piece at the moment.
“There is no one else who could do this job,” I stated, and when Folami began to open her mouth, I cut her off with a hardened glare. “Who would go? You? You cannot even speak of your history with that place, let alone think about returning there for an extended period of time. Not to mention, you cut your Bonding mark from your body. You don’t think that would be noticed immediately? So, no, you cannot go in my stead.”
Folami closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth, fire brimming in her eyes. She was passionate and loyal to a fault, but she had a vendetta against the Warlord—maybe even as great as the Matriarch’s. While I trusted her and loved her as a friend and commander, this was not a mission I felt comfortable giving to her.
“Peytor is also a non-choice,” I stated, turning my eyes to my friend, whose shoulders sagged under the weight of my gaze. “He’s much too recognizable and just returned from a stint in the mines. He’d be killed on sight.”
My eyes turned last to the third man in the room—General Razia d’Chisisi. He was a short, stocky man with a hard-edged expression only made more intense by the scar that slashed across his face. Apparently he’d served in the southern army during the last Elyrian civil war but defected when Lord d’Leocopus offered him a position in Lishahl.
To say Folami, Peytor, and I didn’t trust him was an understatement, and none of us truly wanted him here. But when we first tried to deny his entry into our war room, Lord d’Leocopus made it very clear that General d’Chisisi would join us, or we would have to find a new home for the rebellion.
“Theoretically, you could go in my place”—Razia raised his eyebrows expectantly—“but I frankly don’t trust you.” General d’Chisisi glowered. I knew my blunt accusation would make its way back to Lord d’Leocopus, but I found I didn’t care.
Ellowyn’s safety was paramount, and I didn’t trust Lord d’Leocopus’ man to retrieve her.
“So send someone else. You havethousandsof men and women willing to do whatever necessary to see Vespera and the Warlord brought to their knees,” Folami hissed as she gestured, her braids clinking together with the rapid movement.
“I don’t trust anyone else. Not with this. Not with her.”
The room was silent as I finished speaking.
Folami sighed deeply, dropping her hand to her side.
“We cannot sway you, can we.” Peytor’s question was more a statement, and his tone was completely resigned. He quirked a small smile as I shook my head.
“No. This is the way it must be done. I am sure of it.” The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became of my plan.
It has to work.
“How do you plan on communicating with us? Any letters in and out of the Academy are closely monitored. Even with one of our ciphers, the likelihood that our plans are intercepted is high,” Razia added.
I hummed for a moment.
“What I am going to tell you does not leave this room,” I stated gravely.
I suppose this will truly test Razia’s loyalty.
I traced the calluses on my palms, deciding how best to approach my ability to commune with Ellowyn. I’d had various theories for a while now, why we were the only two—plus Fate—who were able to access the Dreamscape, but nothing concrete or provable. Maybe by confessing, one of them would have a better idea.
Or I’m damning myself.
“I can dream walk,” I stated, and my words hung heavy in the still air. My eyes left my hands as I stopped their mindless picking, only to be drawn in by the surprised and somewhat confused looks on each of their faces.
“I’m going to need you to say that again,” Folami drawled slowly, her unblinking eyes a complete contrast to Razia’s, whose lashes kept fluttering like he was trying to dislodge a stuck particle.
