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I dismount and run to his side, expecting a gravely injured sapling.
Instead, I find him laughing. “I told you they do not have a taste for our kind. They usually realize it at the last possible moment.”
“Usually?” He raced in, hoping they would repel it before it delivered a devastating blow? I shake my head, though I find a new respect rising for the sapling leader. He did not have to put himself in harm’s way, especially when he’s so close to achieving his goals with or without us, but he did it without hesitation.
Maybe I have misjudged the sapling and this alliance after all.
Radomir pulls himself off the ground and peers at his bloodied hands. He must have cut them on the wyvern’s scales. “There is a spot on the beast’s wing that, if you penetrate it just so, you will immobilize it from flight.”
“Where did you learn this?” Gaellar asks, her discomfort from earlier temporarily absent.
“You may defend the rift against these creatures, Commander, but we have learned how to survive with them for many years. It has not been easy.”
She nods, and I see her mind churning.
What I see is an opportunity. “Perhaps you would be willing to spend time sharing knowledge with the soldiers here, so we are all better prepared.” I imagine that is along the lines of where her thoughts are. I could order him to stay, but he might rebel. This way, he has a choice to help us and prove the saplings’ worth.
Black eyes shift from me to Gaellar. “I have nothing better to do.”
Gaellar dips her head. “It would be much appreciated by all.”
The camp is unnerved after another attack by a wyvern, a dozen bodies—soldiers and horses—strewn like debris across the rugged dirt. And yet a cheer sounds in the night, followed moments later by more. Soon, an entire chorus erupts, the energy swelling.
I smile.
This is how we fight against the Nulling and Malachi.
United.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
AGATHA
The sun is rising when our caravan of wagons reaches the caster pavilion, the trek through the thousands of Ybarisans slow and tedious.
I ease myself down the steps, my limbs aching in protest. Aside from a few short breaks when we watered the horses and relieved ourselves, the wagons have rolled night and day, their occupants sleeping where they sat. If Queen Neilina were wise, she would have had us leave days earlier, but she has no interest in prolonged travel, and her jeweled carriage has all the comforts.
I look up into the clear blue sky. “Not much time to spare is there.” Even now, one can see the faint outline of Hudem’s moon. It will intensify with each passing hour until it hangs so low and shines so bright, nothing can hide, the shadows non-existent.
“I have never seen so many people.” Baedriya, the soft-spoken messenger who lent her support, says, her dark gaze raking over the sea of tents housing the poor souls who prepare to die for their treacherous queen. “I did not think there were this many in all of Ybaris.”
“I fear there will be far fewer when the sun rises at dawn.” Queen Neilina has promised them easy passage behind Mordain. Many of them likely believe they will walk across the rift’s pass and be handed land.
I lean down to test the patch of new grass sprouting beneath my feet. There are countless more poking through the dirt. Trampled beneath feet, but unmistakable. Nothing has grown here for two millennia and yet now there are hints of new life?
Would this have anything to do with the changes I fear are coming?
“Do you think if people knew that Her Highness summoned the fates, they would follow her?” Baedriya asks.
“People believe what they want to believe, even when the truth is laid bare, unfiltered and undeniable, before them.” Lorel is not an evil caster, nor is she blind, but she chooses the path that ensures her position as Prime. She likely figures any hidden truths won’t change the outcome. Maybe she’s right. I could stand on the top of this wagon and shout them for all to hear, and all it would earn me is an arrow through my gullet.
The Shadows approach, riding two by two in a straight line, their identities concealed behind their fearsome-looking black armor. But I know Solange leads the escort with the queen and the elementals. She may not approve of our part in this war with Islor, but she also knows she has no choice but to follow orders. We are all pawns in Queen Neilina’s game, and she will replace us as necessary.
The royal carriage slows, its frame winking with countless gems that mirror the castle towers. Neilina never leaves Argon without both the army led by Commander Tiberius and the Shadows. She rarely leaves Argon period, preferring the comforts of her pampered life rather than seeing how her people suffer.
