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The king looked between the two of them curiously, before nodding to Thea. ‘If anyone tries to poison me, you throw as many damn knives as you want.’
‘Of course, Majesty.’
‘Good,’ he said gruffly, getting to his feet. ‘Let’s show you to this war camp, then.’
* * *
It had been a long time since Wilder had seen a true war camp, and he appreciated the sight even less than he remembered. On fresh horses, King Leiko and his guard accompanied them to the outskirts of his citadel, where a hundred or more canvas tents had been pitched, the ground muddy around them, stinking of horses and shit.
Wilder surveyed the Guardians who passed, all of them touching three fingers to their shoulders in respect to him and Torj. They looked weary.
‘They only got here the day before last?’
‘Yes,’ King Leiko replied. ‘But between where they were stationed and here, they were set upon by monsters several times. Their numbers aren’t what they were.’
Wilder’s stomach hardened. ‘We were set upon not too far from here as well.’
‘Out where that nasty storm was?’ the king’s commander asked.
Wilder saw Thea flinch from the corner of his eye.
‘Yes,’ he replied evenly. ‘More than a dozen, but we fought them off. Killed a good many, too.’
King Leiko didn’t seem to hear him. The ruler was staring northward.
Wilder followed his gaze. The war camp was stationed in the foothills, stretching out to where the terrain flattened. Beyond, villages were peppered in the distance. But that was not what caught Wilder’s attention.
It was the Veil.
They were close enough to the coast that the Veil was easily discernible as it towered over the sea. But where Wilder expected to see a white wall of impenetrable mist, he saw a black fissure in its facade: a gaping hole that leaked darkness.
‘They came through that several days ago,’ King Leiko murmured, the shock still evident in his voice.
‘How many?’ Torj asked.
‘We couldn’t count, couldn’t discern one from the next. There was so much of that damn shadow magic cloaking them…’
‘Was it just wraiths?’ Wilder pressed. ‘Or reapers too?’
‘It was every nightmare you could imagine, Warsword,’ the king said, not taking his eyes from the torn Veil.
Wilder’s blood ran cold. ‘They attacked?’
‘That’s the thing… They vanished. As soon as they were through, they were gone.’
‘And you’ve seen no sign of them?’
‘There have been attacks,’ the king allowed. ‘But not worthy of that force. However… there is something.’
‘What?’ Wilder demanded before he remembered to add, ‘Your Majesty.’
King Leiko nodded to his commander, who spoke stiffly. ‘One of His Majesty’s army units has gone missing, Warsword Hawthorne.’
‘Missing?’ Torj echoed.
‘Yes, sir,’ the commander replied, his voice sombre. ‘Vanished into thin air, it seems.’
‘Fuck,’ Wilder muttered.
