“Ephria can’t stand against a force like that,” Evylin said.
Deckard sighed sadly. “That’s not the worst part,” he said. “After Isla’s betrayal, he suspected there were spies among his people. Somehow, he found out about the Alliance, and he hunted them down in Wauld. Carlile says he doesn’t know who lived and who died, but this letter... It was sent a week ago. Everything could have changed by now.”
While the troop remained silent, taking in the news, Deckard continued, “The Alliance abandoned Mouroc. Carlile was waiting for confirmation to discover which of the ministers and members survived.”
“My grandfather...” Brea whispered, and Thom set a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
Deckard gave her an apologetic look. “Last they knew, Blount was marching toward Ephria City to overthrow King Ephren.”
Calyn gasped, stepping up to Evylin’s side, reminding her of her sister’s presence. Calyn’s hand slipped into hers, and Evylin squeezed to reassure her sister.
“Blount has issued a charge to the Alliance,” Deckard concluded. “He has hostages. He demands that we give him the Relics, or he’ll kill every last one of them.”
“He’ll kill them anyway,” Isla said.
Deckard dipped his chin, a subtle admission that he suspected as much.
The chaos of expectant silence pressed into the room. Troop member after troop member exchanged looks, each of them on the verge of speech. Yet, they all held their tongues, turning to Deckard for answers.
“What do we do?” Evylin asked.
After a long, strained pause, Deckard drew back his shoulders and said, “We’re going to Loclight. And we’re stopping Blount for good.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
35TH OF RADIA, 1574
They rode hard for nine days straight, ignoring all settlements and comforts in preference for speed, stopping only for short bouts of rest and food. The week’s delay it took for Carlile’s letter to reach them, plus their week and a day’s journey, meant anything could have happened since their last receipt of information. Blount and his army could be anywhere on their journey to Ephria’s capital. They could arrive to find Loclight razed to the ground for all Deckard knew.
At the start, Vayden suggested continuing with their original plan. “We could still visit Minister Molloy,” he said, his Waulden accent thickening in his worry. “He might have an update for us.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” Deckard said. “We would waste days journeying there. The Alliance needs us in Loclight. Whether we save King Ephren’s life or not, we know Blount’s destination. We can end this by stopping him now.”
Deckard knew the pace at which an army could move. They weren’t fast, but if his calculations were correct, he imagined Blount could cross the border and arrive in Ephria City by the end of two weeks. It was more than enough time to beat their small band there.
The troop rode harder than they ever had before. Their horses showed the strain each night, and Deckard worried they’d kill them if they kept up with their blistering pace. But they had little choice. If they arrived too late, the hundred thousand souls living in the city could be lost to Blount’s mania. And though he felt little allegiance to King Ephren anymore, he couldn’t let himself give up his past monarch’s life either.
With the little spare time they had in the evenings, the Warriors trained with intensity. As if the pressure was refining them, Evylin and Ethenn showed marked improvement, tapping into their magic more quickly and fighting with more control than ever. Ilain and Isla spent extra hours working with Deckard as well, ensuring his connection to Space was as strong as possible.
Huddled over the light of the fire, Deckard and Evylin studiedAttachments of the Soulfrom cover to cover. It was laborious but insightful, and he discovered that they’d only scratched the surface of their Bond’s capabilities. While they discovered it would take decades to master their new connection, certain benefits, such as sharing fragments of one another’s powers, could be tapped into presently.
Beyond that, the book helped him overcome his struggle with the Space Relic. Deckard realized Ilain was right; he simply needed to let go of his urge for control, trusting the magic and the Bond to help him channel it correctly. While he continued to struggle with allowing the magic to consume him, the compulsion wasn’t nearly as strong.
None of their preparation eased their fears as they inched closer to Loclight each day.
On the morning of the thirty-fifth of Radia, they crested the hill that rose before the valley of Ephria City. The spring sun hung in the west, glittering across the Ónette Sea upontheir evening arrival. The troop pulled their horses to a stop, devastation running through their ranks.
They’d arrived too late.
Purple banners with a golden crown imposed over a double moon had replaced the old crook and sword of Ephren’s reign. Hundreds of tents littered the farmland before the outskirts of the city. Siege weapons and soldiers covered the terrae. Warships cluttered the ocean. Smoke and the dust of rubble still clouded the city air. They couldn’t even see the palace through the dark haze.
Evylin’s hand found Deckard’s. Blount had taken their home.
In awe, they all stared, incapable of action.
“How did he lay siege to an entire city in...” Rafferty cast a dazed glance at the group. “Well, how long do you think it took him?”
“Blount has Mages in his army and Relics in his possession,” Ilain said coldly. “Ephren has nothing. There was no defense against magic.”
