AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The truth beneath Herne’s words? I need you. My chest clenched.
Tibris turned his steady gaze our way. I barely hid a wince. Demos just lifted one eyebrow.
“I know you need me,” Tibris said, turning back to Herne. His voice softened. “But you have enough non-magic healers here to help with delivering babies, bandaging training wounds, and treating stomachaches. I’ve been training them myself.”
Herne’s eyes flared. “You’re not leaving. If you try, I’ll have you brought back.” He turned and stalked away.
Demos smiled.
“You made me manipulate him.” Tibris’s voice was cool.
The smile dropped from Demos’s face, and he sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Surprise flashed in Tibris’s eyes. I couldn’t blame him. Demos wasn’t exactly known for his frequent apologies.
Tibris sighed. “I don’t—”
A sentry sprinted past. Demos grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to a stop, and the sentry lashed out with his knife. Demos plucked it from his hand, and the sentry flushed purple.
“What is it?” Demos asked.
“We’re under attack.” Shaking Demos off, he sprinted toward Herne’s tent.
All the air disappeared from my lungs. A prickly sensation engulfed all of my nerve endings. Under attack. Here.
Tibris’s eyes hardened. “Are you responsible for this?”
I shook my head, heart pounding. “No. I swear.”
“This isn’t one of Prisca’s schemes?”
Demos shook his head, expression grim. “Show me where they keep their weapons.”
Tibris led us toward the armory, his steps quick.
“You did this!” Herne hissed, intercepting us.
“I can see why you’d think that,” Demos acknowledged calmly. “But we didn’t. Whatever is happening, it didn’t come from us.”
To Herne’s credit, he didn’t waste time arguing. Turning, he began snarling orders to his generals. When he glanced back at Tibris, his expression softened almost imperceptibly. “You need to go now. Take a horse and leave.”
“We’re staying to help,” I said. “Which direction were they spotted coming from?”
Relief darted across Herne’s face, gone in an instant. “The east.”
“How far away?”
“They’ll be here by nightfall. Perhaps faster.”
“Are you certain none of them are coming from the north?” Demos asked.
Herne’s mouth twisted. “Yes.”
“What colors are they wearing?”
Herne hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was haunted.
“There were no colors. Our attackers are not men. They are some kind of twisted creature my sentries have never seen before.”
