Page 147 of Queen of War and Ruin

Petrys and Zarek exchange a glance. Petrys turns away, then back to Elrick.

“I have—contacts,” Petrys says slowly. “In Lisal. They may be able to help you.”

Gerard snorts. “Your soldier friends?”

Petrys glares at him. Zarek clears his throat.

“Petrys has spent his life working to undermine the Kingdom of Vsenrog,” Zarek says in a soft voice. “And I’ve helped him in every way I can.”

Elrick’s mouth falls open again. Gerard’s eyes widen. Petrys pulls himself up in his chair.

“I have a wide network of associates across the Seven Allied Kingdoms,” Petrys says. “Some of them are centered in Lisal. I can’t promise anything, of course, but I do know several powerful people who have a vested interest in watching Vsenrog burn.”

“Shit,” Gerard says, under his breath. “You’re a godsdamned spy.”

Petrys ignores him and turns back to Elrick.

“King Malrik took me from my home when I was little more than a child,” Petrys says. “Two years later, he burned Dungal to the ground. Hopefully you’ll understand why I never felt a surplus of loyalty for the Kingdom of Vsenrog.”

“Of course,” Elrick says.

“You may have more allies than you think,” Petrys continues. “Many people want to see the end of Malrik’s reign, especially now that he’s unleashed this weapon.”

Elrick and Anura turn to each other, their eyes meeting for a heartbeat. The glance that passes between them seems to carry an entire conversation. Finally, they turn back to Petrys.

“Thank you,” Anura says, looking first to Petrys, then to Zarek. “We’re grateful for any help you can provide. Both of you.”

Gerard coughs loudly. “One more thing,” he says. “Zarek. Are you going to tell them about your magic bullshit, or am I?”

Magic? Zarek glances down at the table, then back up at me. He looks almost like he’s in pain.

“Magic,” Elrick says. “Like Malrik’s weapon?”

“No,” Zarek says.

“Yup,” Gerard says.

The two men stare at each other.

“Just like the fucking weapon,” Gerard says, in a cold, low voice that’s almost a growl.

Zarek sighs. “It’s not the same.”

“Okay,” Elrick says, and I can tell that he’s trying to hold on to his temper. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”

Zarek sighs again, then turns to my brother.

“Malrik’s weapon is an elf named Varitan,” Zarek says. “He has—magic. When he uses it, he can rip a hole in the ground. A hole that’s big enough to swallow an army.”

“Gods above,” Elrick mutters.

“The cloud,” Anura whispers. “When we were escaping Ethiria, we saw a cloud rising over the castle.”

Zarek nods. “That was dust. Debris from the place where the ground split. Malrik used the weapon against Ethiria’s servants and workers, all the castle staff their prince put in military outfits. Varitan did his magic, ripped the earth apart, and they just—fell.”

“Like the Kingdom of the Fall,” I blurt.

Everyone turns to stare at me.