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“I’m going to assume she’s the necromancer,” the man with the glasses states, turning back to Erikel, who gleams at his response.
“She is, and she’s going to bring everyone back from the dead if you agree to my terms, but there isn’t much time, so delaying will only increase the true death rate,” he explains, as if noting a trip to the grocery store, and my stomach turns.
This man is completely void of any feelings or emotions other than his desire for domination over everyone and everything. A part of me wonders what his trauma is, what caused him to be this way, but I quickly tamp it down. Seeking answers to those questions would only make him a person, relatable, and he doesn’t deserve that.
“Who are they?” I whisper, glancing at Zane.
“Monarchy.”
I had assumed as much, but I don’t recognize them. Although, I haven’t really seen anyone from the Monarchy, other than Rhys, to confirm. A thought does make my lips purse, though. “Why didn’t he go for your father while he was here? Why do this?”
Zane looks at the men on the platform, talking among themselves like we’re not here. I’m surprised he’s not complaining that Brax, Eldon, and Zane are present too. His order to Creed was to come alone, but none of us agreed to that, so it was the five of us or none at all.
“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone but him truly understands his game plan,” Zane mutters, and I nod inagreement. The enigma that is Erikel from the Basilica Realm has us all confused.
“What are your terms, Erikel?” The gulping Monarch asks, his nerves still getting the better of him, and Erikel shakes his head before cocking his brow expectantly at the Monarch. “Erikel, leader of the Basilica Realm,” the guy corrects, making Erikel grin from ear to ear, and I want to puke.
“Surrender the realm.”
The Monarch with the glasses splutters with a shake of his head. “No.” It’s more confident than I expected and it impresses me a little.
“Are you sure you want to play with the lives of these men and women?” Erikel asks, sweeping his hand in the direction of the dead bodies, but neither of them turns to look.
“I believe it’s you that is attempting to play God among men, Erikel, and that’s not how the Elevin Realm works, nor will it ever.”
Erikel doesn’t falter under the intense stare of the guy with the glasses. If anything, he stands taller, smiles wider, looks deeper. “Oh, you need me to start smaller. We can waste precious minutes and take this one step at a time if you like. Let me see…” He taps at his chin, pacing ever so slightly back and forth before the members of The Monarchy, until he nods, almost to himself. “Agree to leave us alone here at Silvercrest Academy.”
“Why would we do that?” Mr. Nervous asks, and I glance over my shoulder at the lifeless civilians. It’s not my place to heal everyone, nor is it my place to be a damn hero, but it’s hurting my chest to see them like this.
“I’ll have Raven bring back one person. Monarch Dutton.”
Both of the Monarchs lean back in their seats, murmuring between themselves as we just idly stand around. Turning to Zane, he must sense my question because I don’t even part mylips before he speaks. “Monarch Dutton is the head of Elevin Realm’s soldiers.”
Fuck.
So that’s his reasoning behind all of this? To gain control of the realm’s fighters? Maybe he’s smarter than I gave him credit for.
“We can agree to this,” Mr. Glasses states, pulling me from my thoughts, and I gape at them. Are they serious? “On the terms that he is returned to us immediately,” he adds, and I stifle a scoff.
He can’t seriously believe that Erikel would agree to this, can he?
“Excellent. Raven, heal this man,” Erikel declares, not actually responding to the audience he’s holding as his attention turns my way.
“No,” I blurt, staring at him as I prepare for the fight that’s about to come my way.
“It wasn’t a question.” The smile on his face doesn’t falter.
“And I’m not a puppet,” I retort, rolling my shoulders back as I glare.
“Do you need me to hurt one of your men?” The smile slips just a little and I shake my head.
“You already did when you took him with you to Pinebrook. Explain to me what happened there, and I’ll consider your request.” I’m not going to just roll over and do as this man asks. I can’t.If that’s the life I’m going to be expected to live, then kill me now because I refuse.
Erikel tsks, his smile slowly transforming into a snarl as the Monarchs turn their heads in our direction. “It’s not a request,” he repeats, and I shrug.
“And, like I said, I’m not a puppet.”
“Warrior,” Erikel bellows, and a second later, the door to his right opens and the golden warrior steps into the room. Hiseyes slip to Creed for the briefest of moments before turning to Erikel. His leader doesn’t even speak a word, he simply nods in our direction, and the sound of his sword sliding against the sheath at his waist echoes around the room.
