“Thank you, Twig.”
The boy salutes again and races off. I turn to the lieutenant. “Our meeting will have to be postponed for now.”
“Understood, Commander.”
Hopefully, the fae rumors about my brother will die out. Otherwise, it could be bad fucking timing if it catches on enough that it affects any of the men when it comes to fighting.
Just in case, I say, “If the rumors turn into grumblings, make sure all the lieutenants know to intervene. The last thing we need is for our soldiers to get this idea stuck in their heads and spread enough fearmongering that others threaten to defect. Fourth’s army is better than that. Orea’s safety is the priority. We are soldiers, and we fightwhoevertries to invade or attack. Fae or Orean.”
The Lieutenant gives a sharp salute. “Absolutely. No soldier of ours would betray our own cause. We will always defend Fourth and Orea.”
“Yes, we will.”
With a nod, I pivot and head for Brackhill, wondering what news the message from Slade will bring. My stomach tenses and my thoughts ricochet. Will we prepare to march or prepare for siege?
Everything hinges on this.
When I get up to the castle, I waste no time entering Slade’s office. Isalee, Warken, and Osrik are already here.
“When did it arrive?” I ask as I stride into the room.
“Not long. Fifteen minutes at most,” Warken tells me.
Osrik closes the door behind me and leans against the wall next to the door. He looks ready to bolt and return to Rissa as soon as he can. I pass by the Premiers where they sit in the high-backed chairs facing the desk, and make my way to the window behind it. A messenger hawk awaits on a delivery perch just outside the open pane. I take the vial from its leg and unscrew the top to pull out the message. As soon as I return the empty vial, the hawk takes flight, and I yank the window closed.
Turning toward the desk to face everyone, I quickly unroll the small piece of parchment, but a frown instantly drips down my face.
This message isn’t in Slade’s handwriting. It’s in Lu’s.
My eyes scan over the hastily scrawled words, and my stomach drops. And drops. And then crashes into an obliterated broken mess of bile. “Fuck.Fuck!”
Normally, Isalee would rebuke me about the coarse language, but she doesn’t this time, maybe sensing the severity of the situation. The corners of her lips turn down, her sharp eyes fanning over me. “What is it?”
I shake my head, warring with worry and spinning thoughts. “Slade never showed up.”
Osrik jerks up from the wall. “He never fucking showed up to Ranhold?”
“No. No one knows where he is. Lu and Judd never caught up to him in the air with the other Elites. They assumed Argo had gotten him to Fifth. But he never made it. Nobody has seen him.”
“Not good,” Osrik mutters.
No, not good at all.
A jab of fear slices into me.
Where the fuck is he? Did something happen to him?
And then the rest of this message… I read Lu’s words again, every sentence hooking its nails into me.
“You don’t think he simply…changed his mind?” Warken asks carefully.
“No,” I say with certainty. “He gave us his word. He gavemehis word. If he didn’t show up to Ranhold, there was a reason for it.”
I’m not going to let my mind plummet. Not going to even consider that he was killed or captured.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Isalee presses, her attention homed in on my face. “What is it?”
I look up at her and open my mouth, but nothing comes out at first. My heart is beating so hard it hammers in my ears.
