“All right.” Gareth holds up a hand. “That’s enough snorting—err, laughing—at Phin’s expense. He got jinxed by a pixie, but that’s another story. We have some serious business to discuss.”
“Already to the business portion of our reunion. Good to know you haven’t changed.” Thorn finally looks at Chastain and Silmaran. “Friends of yours?”
“Silmaran is the leader of the freed slaves. Chastain is her mate and a noble of Cranthum.”
“Well met.” Ravella slides into the chair next to Brannon. “And well done on freeing the city.”
Silmaran inclines her head the slightest bit. “It was long past due.”
“But now you have two armies marching up your ass.” Grayhail doesn’t mince words. “So we’re here to help and likely starting a war of our own by assisting you against the queen.”
Gareth winces. Not externally. He has the same granite countenance as always, but inside, he fears more war. Not because he worries for himself, but he cares for his people. They’ve known too much conflict. I hug him tighter, giving him what little reassurance I can.
“We appreciate the offer of help from the winter king,” Silmaran says pointedly. “He didn’t have to come to our aid, but hehas, and we will take whatever assistance he has decreed.”
“Can you imagine Leander using the word ‘decreed’?” Ravella shakes her head, then focuses on Silmaran. “Look, we’re here to fight for you. Ignore what this lump-head says. We want freedom for all peoples in Arin, and we’re willing to shed our own blood to make it happen. So, what’s the plan?”
Silmaran relaxes a hair. Ravella is a straight-talker, and I was already becoming fond of her before the Catcher stole me from the winter realm.
Silmaran leans back, keeping her gaze on Ravella. “We’ve hidden the people of Cranthum in the jungle to the northeast.”
“Isn’t that jungle full of poisonous plants and murderous creatures?” Valen raises a brow.
“Gareth is friends with the trees, so he worked out a deal where Cranthum won’t cut any wood from there for a century in exchange for safe passage.” I pat my mate on the chest. “He’s an excellent negotiator.”
Valen stares. “Friends with the trees?”
“Long story.” I wave away his question.
Silmaran clears her throat and continues. “They’ll be safely hidden as Queen Aurentia’s forces march by on the road. I will greet the queen at the gate and attempt a parlay.”
“She’ll kill you.” Brannon drums his fingers on the table.
“Maybe.” Silmaran doesn’t waver. “But I have to try.”
“Sounds like certain death.” Brannon shrugs. “I’ll stand with you.”
“You will?” Silmaran is too tired to hide her surprise.
“The queen and I know each other. It might be nice to get reacquainted.” The danger in his tone says anything but ‘nice.’ Even so, Silmaran would be a fool to turn down his offer. After what Gareth told me about his past, Brannon is likely the deadliest magic wielder at this table.
She nods. “All right, you’ll be with me.”
“And the army to the west?” Grayhail asks.
“Our scouts have them arriving here before the queen’s army. I need all our fighters focused on Cenet.” She looks down for a moment. “He’s enthralled slaves from the mines. Our brothers and sisters. He’s using them against us. I don’t want them to lose their lives—”
“They’re already lost.” Brannon still drums his fingers. “I can feel the darkness coming. It whispers to me. Most of the miners perished on the journey, driven to death by Cenet’s whip and the terrors of the Grave Bridge. But Cenet isn’t just Cenet anymore.” He looks around the table. “Shathinor’s essence lives inside him. Each miner that fell? He’s brought them back. His army is an army of the dead. And they will not stop until their master has fallen.”
My knees weaken, but I hold onto Gareth.
“Are you certain?” he asks.
Brannon nods. “Their lost souls journey along with them. Cenet has wrapped them all in darkness, but I can feel them gaining strength. The necromancer pours his magic into them, making them stronger, faster. We have two hours, at most.”
“Dead.” Silmaran takes a deep breath. “All the ones we hoped to save, dead.”
Chastain puts a hand on her shoulder. Gareth pulls a seat out and sits heavily, then pulls me into his lap. I lean against him.
