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“It is a good thing you did not know, then, isn’t it, my friend? Because we would not have a hope in Azo’dem of reaching the rift in time.” I take in three separate lines of soldiers beneath the cast of the moon’s light—Islorian, Ybarisan, and the saplings we refuse to claim as our own. Tension has gripped our company since we left Ulysede to meet them, and then only amplified when the band of murderers and thieves emerged from their cave system, cords of merth dangling from their belts.
For all his scheming and aid to Neilina, Radomir was wise in bringing several of his most trusted into the gates to experience the nymphs’ power firsthand. Once they heard that Princess Romeria would honor Neilina’s promise, that they need only suffer within their sapling skin until Hudem’s moon, they agreed to shed the merth cord and accept Ulysede’s helms and shields instead.
But I did not miss the way Radomir has marveled at Ulysede’s splendor.
“What happens when Hudem’s moon rises and they get what they want?” Elisaf whispers in my ear, as if reading my mind. “Do you really believe they will wear that armor and proudly serve Romeria for the rest of their days?”
“They will wear the armor to get themselves through the gates. They may even bow before her. But eventually, they will attempt to claim Ulysede for themselves.” Radomir has led within these mountains for fates only knows how long. He all but declared himself the king of Venhorn.
He may have melted into a weepy puddle and professed his undying loyalty to Romeria, but there is no honor in these beings. There wasn’t when they were the Islorians of their past—that is how they ended up in their predicament. Thieves and murderers, even then. One would be a fool to believe Radomir isn’t already scheming. He won’t be the only one, I’m sure. “They will not be allowed back inside the gates.” There may only be three hundred of them, but that would be enough to overwhelm an empty city.
“Drakon and Iago will not forget.” Elisaf nods to the two legionaries who sit on their horses, murder in their eyes. “I’m not sure even Abarrane’s order to stand down will control them.”
“It must. At least for now.”
“Over twelve hundred soldiers on horseback through this mine, led by saplings who would betray their kin for their own gain in a heartbeat.” Telor looks to me. “Are you sure, Zander?”
“That we must get to the rift and hold off Neilina until the full Hudem moon? Of that, I have no doubt.”
He peers back at his force. I see the same guarded faces he does. They follow orders as their lord marches alongside an exiled king. Earlier, they watched their lord order legionaries to execute seven Islorians alongside his own son, on charges of conspiring with the very Ybarisans who ride alongside us now.
The Islorians do not understand, and yet they follow.
The Ybarisans do not understand, and yet they follow.
The saplings have seen an end to their plight, and so they follow … for now.
“Let us lead by example.”
Telor dips his head. “Your Highness.”
Together we march toward the opening where Radomir waits, the legionaries riding in formation around me. Kienen joins us.
I look up at the moon and say a silent prayer that I see it again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ATTICUS
The black spiral staircase creaks, announcing intruders.
“Is there nowhere in this kingdom I can hide and not be bothered?” I call out in a lazy drawl.
Kazimir and Rhodes stroll down the aisle of the library’s fourth floor toward me.
“And at this hour too.” The early-morning sun peeks through the window.
“No one in the city sleeps these days. The army is preparing to march for the east. Boaz has been banging on doors with the priestess in tow all night. She’s marking everyone. Tributaries, regular household, the children.”
Because that was my order. “Have they found any tainted?”
“They have. Too many to hang on the streets.”
My stomach tenses. Will the city have any mortals left by the time Hudem arrives?
Kazimir slips a book off the shelf, feigning interest. “I always was fond of my theology teacher.”
“And why is that?” I fan through the book in my hand before setting it back on the shelf. I’ve rifled through nearly every volume on old world speculation, but I have yet to uncover something about the nymphs or Stonekeep.
“She taught me much. Nothing about the fates, though.” His tone is thick with lewd implications.
I inhale deeply. “Why do you smell like sex and ale?”
“Because you told me to chase rabbits, and they led me to Port Street.”
“And into the loving arms of a mortal?”
Kazimir grins. “Sometimes questioning requires a certain finesse.”
Beside him, Rhodes chuckles, a rare sound.
“I’m sure.” At least someone enjoyed company last night. “And what has your questioning turned up?”
