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“She was born to bring balance to his shadows.” Asker cast a final gaze over Ammarett before he looked at me. “This might very well be our only viable option. The dungeon they keep her in is small, reserved only for the most prominent of prisoners. If she can make it to the keep, then you can help her shift, should she no longer be able to, and escort her to safety.”
“That’s all well and good, but how do we get the damn bird to her? You said that there’s only one way to that dungeon, and that way is through the keep.”
“It is ventilated by a single shaft set into the wall of the mountain, close to the ocean,” Malyr said. “It’s too narrow to fit even a child, and constantly pounded by waves.”
“But a raven will fit,” I finished for him. “Youranoaflies well enough, he should avoid the waves.”
“Myanoacan slip in there with a note tied to his leg. All we need is a distraction while he approaches from the ocean. Something that looks like an all-out attack from the southeast without carrying all its risks.”
“That can be done,” Asker said. “But the question that concerns me the most is how do you intend to fight without your gift?”
Malyr gave a tap on the pommel of his sword. “Only until we have her. It is too much a burden for her to carry long-term, but I will let her borrow it.” Whatever it was that he spotted, maybe the way I shifted from one leg to the other, had him lift his hand to my shoulder. “She will come out of this alive.”
My lungs slowed. I knew that. The both of us would make certain of it, each in our own ways laid out before us by fate.
“I will ready myself for the attack,” Asker said and strode toward one of the shadow tents. “The camp will need to be moved back after to give the impression of retreat. That, coupled with her distraction, should allow us to fly through their defenses and storm the keep.”
The moment I turned, Malyr tightened his hold on my shoulder. “I need you to promise me something.”
I stopped and faced him, the deathweaver who’d been with me through some of my worst and best memories. “Anything.”
“Should something happen to me, I need—”
“Nothing will happen to you.” Not if I could help it—and I very much intended to help it. “You made it this far. Don’t give those bastards the courtesy of dying now.”
But he didn’t relent, his stare as somber as his hand was heavy. “Promise me that you will take care of her. Forever, Sebian.”
“That you think that needs a promise makes me want to fucking punch you.” Same as I didn’t need a promise from him that he would make her a good mate, should I end up dead. I knew he would. “It also needs no damn promise because nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it.”
“You’re a good friend, Sebian. A good brother.” A final squeeze on my shoulder, then he turned toward his tent. “I will prepare the message and get myanoaready to deliver it.”
Which reminded me that I had to check the string on my bow, so I headed toward my tent. When I passed Marla’s tent, my strides slowed. Would she want to see me off? Should I rather just keep going?
Asker stepped out of the tent, momentarily staring at me, motionless, before he walked up. “Ammarett.”
“Ammarett,” I echoed, silent understanding passing between us before I jutted at the tent. “Should I…?”
“You know how she was when Ravenna died. The thought of losing you, too… she barely stopped crying ever since that coward Aros set all this into motion.”
I’d thought as much, so I gave a nod and looked back toward my tent. But I didn’t manage a single step forward.
Asker’s hand landed strangely light on my shoulder before he said, “You are a good man, Sebian.”
A good man.
My nose turned stuffy and my vision blurred. Fucking rain. Cold as winter, too, making me tremble.
I turned my head and glanced at that hand that moved on my shoulder, fingertips slowly patting, which was about the biggest display of closeness I’d ever seen that man exchange with someone other than Marla and Ravenna. “So are you.”
With that, I kept walking. Goddess damn it to hell and back, in just one day, I’d been called a good friend, a good brother, and a good man. Only one thing was missing.
A good mate.
I wouldn’t fail this time.
ChapterForty-Five
Galantia
