“Itisher,” says the small, red-headed guard. He takes a knee and places his fist over his heart. “Your Grace, I don’t think the king would approve.”
“Kick the tiny weasel out of our way,” says a Stigian. He is a monster of a man with a bald head and narrow brown eyes.
I hold up my hand to calm everyone. Without the guards stepping down, the shield will not let us through, so harming them will do us no good. “You have my word. We will not step foot inside the pavilion. But you must let us pass. The city is under attack as we speak and there is a passage that will get the king out safely.”
“I don’t know if?—”
“I am your future queen.” I don’t have time to go back and forth with these men. People could be dying as we speak. “Do not disobey me or I promise, there will be hell to pay. If not by me, then by my godfather.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the men say together, staggering to step aside.
Terro rides beside me and lowers his voice. “You’re kind of terrifying when you get all queenly.”
“You didn’t know? I’m not a woman to be crossed.” I smirk at him and ride ahead, holding my head high in a mock arrogance.
The Omnis pavilion is an ivory dome, sitting on the edge of a cliff. Its architecture is simple, as it wasn’t meant to outshine the view. In this holy place, the elements gifted to our people by the Statera are seen all at once. Fire burns in the center of the gathering place, and plants wind around the columns like smitten lovers. Water falls into an endless chasm, and snow capped mountains stand tall in the distance. In the east, the sun always shines and to the west, lightning adorns the endless night sky. This is the embodiment of our life force.
When the road ends, everyone falls silent. I’ve visited the Omnis several times, and its magnificence is still awe-inspiring. This is one of the most beautiful places in all the five kingdoms. And to think, it used to be my secret hideaway.
We dismount to leave our horses and the carriage for Micah behind. The path to the tunnel is narrow and rocky, and we must hike through it.
I approach a petite Stigian warrior assigned to my group and ask, “May I borrow your gift?”
“Yes,” she says, holding out a freckled hand.
I call forth her flames and cup the ball of fire in my palm. She does the same with her power, and together we light the way for the others. I take the lead, guiding the soldiers along the trail until the pavilion disappears. We reach a vine covered hill, and I sweep the leaves aside to reveal a small wooden door.
“I can’t believe you never told me about this,” Leif says.
I yank the door, and it groans on its rusty hinges. “It wouldn’t have been my secret hiding place if I did.”
He follows me inside. “Point taken.”
As we move through the dark, humid tunnel, everyone falls silent. I concentrate on our crunching footsteps, wishing this mission were a meansto an end. It’s hard not to daydream about defeating the Allaji in the quiet, but it’s nothing more than wishful thinking. How can we even know what a win looks like when we understand so little about our adversary?
The shifter kingdom has mostly kept to themselves since they prefer their animal forms. The only Allaji I’ve come across that were not trying to kill me were at the Sibyls’ temple. They were nice enough, but I didn’t gain any true insight into their people. Other than that they enjoyed fornicating in public places, and that knowledge is useless. What I need to know is why our kingdom, and is there anything we can do to stop this before more of our people are killed?
The door at the end of the tunnel appears, and I snuff out the fire in my hand. Turning to the small but efficient group of a dozen Lucent and Stigian soldiers, I say, “Remember that no one is to go back through this tunnel until the king and king regent are here. Is that understood?”
Everyone responds with a resounding “Yes, Your Grace.”
I ram my shoulder into the door to nudge it open, and we file out into the palace gardens. It’s a beautiful nightmare. The perfume of jasmine and roses lingers in the air as screams, growls, and squawks ring through the night. Soft pink and yellow petals collide with terrible memories of the past attacks I’ve witnessed. We lost too many during the fight at Basecamp and more would have died if it weren’t for the Allajis’ sudden retreat. The gardens that were once an escape for me are now part of a dangerous battleground.
We duck low and hurry through the maze of manicured bushes and marble statues. At every turn, my anxiety mounts. I fear we are running into the waiting jaws of a massive beast. The shifters are strong. My small unit might not be enough to defeat just one of them. I fight back the urge to sprint when the back doors of the palace come into view. It’s difficult to rein myself in when I’m steps away from entering one of the safest places in Lucent and confirming that Micah and Borin are all right.
The bushes give way, and I bound down the sandstone leading to the covered patio. Decorative pillows fall to the ground as I push aside wicker chairs, clearing the way to the back door.
A roar tears through the quiet, and I whip around as a giant cat leaps into the air, its claws extended and fangs bared. It lands on a Stigian warrior, knocking him to the ground. The Ignita who lent me her power forms a small fireball and hurls it at the cat. It growls as the flames singe its fur and clamps its teeth into the man’s shoulder.
I command the Eporri to feel the power around me and pull on the lightning of an Electro. Blue and purple light answer my call and sizzle when I send it sailing toward the Allaji. The lion cries out, releasing the man and locking its gaze on me. It lunges forward and bats its massive paw, knocking me off my feet.
Terro waves his hand and a cloud of dust lashes at the lion’s face. He draws his sword and rushes the animal, plunging the blade deep in its neck. I scurry to the wounded Stigian. The cat ripped through the leather and metal of the warrior’s armor. I place my hand over the puncture wound, blood seeping through my fingers.
“He needs medical attention,” I say to the combat medic that Kyron insisted join our group.
The tall woman with cropped blond hair shuffles through the satchel over her shoulder and retrieves a tourniquet. Lowering to her knees beside me, she sets to work.
“It’s not safe for you in the open. We need to get him back to the horses. You.” I point to the Ignita. “Accompany them back through the tunnel.”
