Page 88 of The Ashborn

He relaxed and rolled his head back. He had to tell himself this was all worth it. That even when he sat alone at night, fighting for a woman who would probably never choose him if she wanted to, it had to be worth it.

“Can we stop them in the desert?” Tristian asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The forest was dark, the sigils hushed by Tristian’s presence. Trees swayed in the wind.

“I’ll take Danek to scope it out, but my gut says no. We’d be picked off by sandwraiths before the storms get us. We’d be working against it all,” Connak explained.

“So, we let them go to Dove Port? And have another destroyed city on our hands?”

Connak considered the cost of the war and how it impacted Dalelry. They’d be putting a whole city, much bigger than Dalelry, at risk. He bit his cheek. “They can beat us in the desert. At least in Dove Port, we’ll have more resources, and we have time to prepare.”

“We’ll have to evacuate parts of the city. We’ll also need traps.”

“We like traps.” Connak smirked, thinking about the damage the Blades could do with a few enchanted bombs. He’d need access to the entire city, and he’d want to ensure as little damage as possible in the process. Dove Port was strong; their buildings were revamped to withstand the test of most magic, but he didn’t want to be the one to try it out.

Tristian rubbed his face, stopping at his eyes. “Do you think we’ll ever get to rest?”

Connak looked at the forest floor. He and Tristian knew the aches of exhaustion. Tristian trained and commanded the highest-ranking army in the realm. Connak fought in River Storm. They had worked their whole lives for this war.

“I think you and I aren’t destined to rest,” he replied. He tried to be subtle. Tristian never truly owned the myths of his path, though he had a scar on his collarbone as proof.

Tristian eyed him carefully. “So, you do think my path is predestined?”

Connak stepped forward. “Yes. You know we were chosen for this cause.”

“Which cause is it that you speak of?”

They’d been working toward so many, but Tristian knew what Connak meant. He wasn’t one to run from things, but this… He ran from this and cast it onto Connak’s shoulders instead.

Connak only shook his head. “The dying of the realm. The cause that is Kienna’s to bear.”

Tristian tensed, gaze drifting over Connak’s shoulder, like something unseen called him. “There is no cause that girl rallies behind,” he said, voice low.

“She knows who the woodcarver is,” Connak said, stepping closer so the wind couldn’t carry his words where they didn’t belong. Calder Ashfell was the closest thing to Kienna’s mother—and to Vaerin—there could have been. He was a man who created the rebels and the world that stood then. He funded their attempts to aid the world outside the Elvish community, training themselves to fight back when the Elvish held them down. They built the Silver Span Bridge to unite Dove Port and Alverton together. Everything that kept Dove Port secluded, they fought against.

“And?” Tristian motioned his hands around in a circle to coax more out of Connak.

“And what?” Connak shrugged. “I meant what I said. This is Kienna’s cause now.”

Tristian shook his head. “She makes foolish mistakes. Ones that cost us good people.”

Connak caught a glimmer of the moon in his eyes. He couldn’t quite argue with that sentiment, but he knew Kienna. He could feel her shift. Her purpose. “I wish you lived in her head, or, at the very least, lived where you’re supposed to. You’d have more faith.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to be doing, Commander. I’m fighting for the realm and getting her path started as you asked. Let it be enough.” Tristian’s tone was clipped. Connak knew not to push further if he wanted to remain in good graces. Tristian would have to get there on his own. The right time would present itself to truly share with Kienna what he’d been trying to share all along.

“All I’m asking is that you have more faith,” Connak said. “She may do things that are incredibly frustrating, but she’s much stronger than even I anticipated.”

“Maybe,” Tristian grunted, “but we’re still going to Dove Port to fight another battle because of her mistakes. So, that’s on my shoulders tonight.”

“Understood,” Connak agreed. “I’ll report back with Danek when I have intel.”

He stepped away from Tristian and left him to handle the other commanders. Connak, on the other hand, had a date with the desert. He’d been wanting to test Danek’s strength for some time now, and this presented a perfect opportunity.

In the distance, steel clanged against steel, a quiet rehearsal for the coming storm.

Chapter 35

—Danek—

“Behind you!” Danek called.