“What will you do then?” I asked, a plan forming in my mind. Lyr looked at me and gave a small, firm nod.
Sean shook his head. “We have to figure that out. These men left their posts—they can’t simply go home now. Things were getting bad in the South already with the new leadership. Bamaria isn’t—it’s not what it was.”
“What about heading North?” I asked.
“North,” Sean frowned.
“It’s time. Things have gotten bad enough. Beyond bad. My father’s tyranny has gone too far for too long.” Lyr squeezed my hand.
Sean’s eyebrows drew together, his eyes searching quickly back and forth between us. “A movement has been brewing in Glemaria for some time. An uprising to stop your father. To remove him from power. Previous attempts failed. Many times. But things are different now. And I think, I think the time is right.”
“So do I,” Lyr said.
“What he did to you,” Sean’s voice shook, his aura flaring with anger, “was so fucking awful, that even the most ardent haters of vorakh—have turned away their support.” He huffed. “It’s one thing to quietly send your son away to Lethea because of vorakh.”
“Like that’s any better,” Lyr snapped.
“No, it’s not, I agree,” Sean said. “People are hypocrites. But, in this case, it’s working in our favor. They were disgusted by the idea of a father standing there as his son was—was?—”
“Stripped,” I said dully.
Lyr sucked in a breath.
Sean nodded, his neck reddening. “Yes. It kind of opened a door, let’s say, for other criticisms that hadn’t gained traction before. He hasn’t been seen in a great light these last few months. And he knows it. Protests are rising, calls for new leadership. So, he’s doing his usual.”
I sneered. “Holding a tournament.”
Sean nodded. “It’s going to be in that arena he restored. You know, the one they called the Pits.”
“An Alissedari,” I said. The event where I’d killed Garrett. The place where my old life had ended. My throat dried.
“He’s going to be there,” Sean said. “Out in the open.”
“But even with people coming to their senses,” I said, “he’s still well protected. He has fucking Kane, and his legion. Do you have anyone we can rely on in Glemaria? Not just here?”
Something flared in Sean’s aura, something bright and hopeful. He smiled, a genuine smile, and his eyes were sparkling in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
“We have someone who’s been getting the word out to us for years now, letting us know your father’s moves, and any weaknesses we can exploit. Particularly amongst those who serve him in the Glemarian Council.”
“Who?” Lyr asked. “Who’s in place?”
But I already knew. Of course! I’d asked her to run away with me years ago, when I needed to escape the abuse, when I wanted to save her, too. She refused. She’d always wanted to remain in Glemaria, to be in her home. Because she was going to make things better.
“It’s Kenna,” I said.
Sean nodded.
“Kenna?” Lyr asked. “By the Gods.”
“Kenna’s been working to gain support for his removal from power for years. And now it looks like it’s time. Your father’s going to be in the Pits for his tournament in one week. And he’s going to be vulnerable. We can easily infiltrate the arena, surround him. And arrest him. And Kenna has assured us that no one will interfere or object.”
“But his personal guard,” I said, remembering the way they’d stood there and watched as my mother died. “They can’t be trusted. Plus, I know he’s compromised the first legion and the Master of Peace.”
Sean grinned. “Are you so sure? Because right now he’s never been weaker. He’s missing one very key element of defense, one that he’s going to keep quiet for as long as he can, but it’s already too late. Becauseweknow.”
“What is it?” I asked.
There was something gleeful in Sean’s aura as he spoke. “The Ready,” he said. “Arkturion Aemon has been spotted in the North with a small army. I don’t know what he’s up to. But he’s not returning to Bamaria, or whatever they’re calling it now. He’s gathering forces for some other reason.”
