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“That idiot’s throwing away the script,” Will muttered.
“I was fortunate enough to have two people by my side when I lost that sight,” Cian continued. “One of them you know already. They and their heroism are no strangers to this court. The other, despite his rough beginnings, has come to love this land as his own. You have called them Maelstrom and Viceroy. Some have been lucky enough to call them friends. Today, I have the great honor to call them my suitors.”
“That’s your cue.” Will pulled open the doors.
The throne room was packed, leaving a walkway down the middle barely wide enough for me to fit. Three thrones waited at the far end of the dais. Three instead of one.
I was suddenly dizzy looking at it, unsure if I could go through with it until Hellion took my arm and guided me forward.
Devonay stood off to one side, a big black book in hand, while Odan occupied a space near the second throne.
A hand shot out of the crowd, the withered fingers of an older Skaag leaning on a wooden cane. “Maelstrom.” Her eyes glistened, but didn’t overflow. “My son lives because of you. Bless you.” She dipped her head before the tear could fall, putting a fist to her chest.
Another hand on the other side, this one belonging to a Nightmare I had seen many times working in Xeltec’s shop. “Maelstrom, bless you.” Another fist, another bowed head.
Murmurs of more of the same went through the room like a wave along with the dull thud of fists and claws striking chests.
I swallowed and kept moving through the murmurs and whispered thanks, through the parade of hands reaching out to touch me. The crowd pressed in, not angry or inhibiting in any way. They parted in front of me as soon as we moved to take a step. Just people, desperate people, holding onto whatever hope they could.
“Maelstrom. Maelstrom!” The whispers became a chant, growing louder and more enthusiastic as I made my way forward.
The moment I slid my hand into Cian’s, the room exploded in applause and shouts of approval. “Mael-strom! Mael-strom!” Fists went into the air with every syllable.
I flinched slightly as Devonay set something on my head, a band of leather and hardened steel.
“They love you,” Cian whispered in my ear before planting a kiss on my cheek. “And so do I.” He repeated the same gesture with Hellion before he stepped between us, grasped our hands, and lifted them high, smiling widely.
The cheers and applause reached a crescendo.
I forced myself to smile. Looking around, I recognized many, and yet so many were absent. The war had already taken its toll on the land. Even if we turned the tide now, it would be years before the scars healed, both inside and out.
That moment, though, was a start.
“Devonaywillcommandthewalls,” I said, throwing open the doors to the library. We were still in our post-court regalia, having gone straight there as soon as all the merriment concluded.
Devonay’s black dress of shadows swam against the floor. She snapped her fingers, calling up the lights in the library with her magic.
“If the pass is lost,” I continued, “the castle walls are our last line of defense. We will pull in and hold as long as we can.”
“Then let’s not lose the pass,” Hellion said as we came to the table.
Harif had joined us on our walk up to the library-turned-war room. The bulk of the gargoyle legion had already arrived while Nevahn was still recovering, flying in from around the territory. Those in the furthest reaches were still on their way, but the current force already numbered just over a thousand.
I waved a hand over the table full of maps and it sprang to life, hillsides growing out of the wood to form the familiar pass just north of the palace. Devonay moved her hands over the same space, populating it with shadows that represented our forces gathered at the southern end of the pass. She formed them into a wedge, the point reaching the middle of the pass. Another, larger force of shadows filled the open fields at the opposite end.
Odan grunted, annoyed at how many she put on the map. “How do you plan to force them into the pass? They won’t go easily.”
Nevahn leaned on the table. “They have to if they want to lay siege to the castle. It’s either that or the sea.”
“Any news on Balor’s armada?” I asked Devonay.
She folded her hands behind her back. “They were sighed along the coast northwest of here about twenty miles out to sea near the Isle of Sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?” Odan rubbed his chin. “The pirate port? What are they doing all the way out there?”
“Not supporting Brenna, which is the only thing that matters right now,” Devonay said. “We still don’t know why Balor pulled anchor and sailed away, leaving her to fend for herself, and because of the salt water, I can’t get any shadows on board the ships.”
“It’s simple tactics,” Hellion said. “Whether Brenna wins or loses her war against us, she will be in a weakened state afterward. He clearly intends to let us fight it out and then swoop in to clean up whoever’s still standing.”
