“That . . . that shouldn’t be possible!”
“I thought you read about me, Hosmunt? You should know that I have command overfourelements, and mywifehas command over the other four. You’d be dead before you tried. No, killing me is not an option. The only way you’ll ever become Pasha or Sultan is if I abdicate.”
The Chief Vizier sat back, mulling over my words in silence. I let it hang between us, catching my breath and allowing my heart rate to return to normal.
“And what do you want in return?” he asked sullenly.
“Ships. Enough to carry an army across the sea, to battle against the gods on whatever terrain they decide.” My answer was immediate.
Hosmunt was already shaking his head.
“No. I won’t anger the gods without some sort of promise from you, some guarantee that you or your children won’t come back to retake Iluul. That you’ll leave me to my own devices here. No, Torin.”
Before I could offer some kind of reassurance—even if I disagreed with uniting the various unique Southern Territories under one banner—Hosmunt threw his napkin on the table and lurched to a stand. Without so much as a word, he stormed from the garden, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a semi-warm breakfast.
I sighed, helping myself to another serving of bread and cheese. Undoubtedly, this was not the end of our negotiations. I’d dangled the one thing he wanted and needed above all else in front of him. Eventually, he’d reach out and take it, though it was clear that process would be longer and more arduous than I anticipated.
Hopefully Ellowyn and Faylinn are having more success.
With that thought, I poured myself another cup of espresso.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Ellowyn
The eerie stillness of the Valley sent a chill down my spine and raised the hairs on my arm. There was something . . . off about this place; something not quite right that I couldn’t put into words. I shivered despite the heat of the morning sun.
“So this is where Alois . . .” I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet as Faylinn and I stood atop a small berm that overlooked the previous home of the Keepers.
Faylinn hummed, her attention drawn below.
Despite the obvious ruination of the Valley, there was a barely perceptible undercurrent of life. It called to my Creation Magic, begging me to innervate the ground and bring peace to this place once more.
I flexed my fingers.
That’s not what we’re here for, I silently admonished. It felt like the wind heard my thoughts, and a sudden gust pushed at my back and whipped Faylinn’s curls around her face.
Just as quickly as the breeze appeared, it died, the oppressive heat of the Valley returning once more.
“That was . . . unexpected,” Faylinn muttered with slightly raised eyebrows. I stood mutely as Faylinn shrugged off the oddness before taking a step down the berm. There was a clear demarcation of where the Valley stopped and the rest of the Borderlands began; blackened earth gave way to greener pastures along a crisp line, and the oddness of its existence had me scampering after Faylinn, nearly falling over my feet.
“Wait!” I gasped, reaching out to grab her arm just before her right foot crossed the line. Faylinn stopped, settling back on the green grass, eyes expectant. The apparent sentience of the land had me second-guessing this mission completely.
“You’re sure there’s an artifact down there?” I nodded toward the blackened soil, my fingers trembling on Faylinn’s arm.
She sighed, her shoulders moving as she closed her eyes.
“No,” she admitted with a slight shake of her head. Faylinn opened her eyes and fixed me with a searching stare. “But the ancient knowledge that is buried here should at least give us some sort of direction. My mother could confirm that much, at least.”
I didn’t release my hand even after her statement.
“Ellowyn,” Faylinn probed. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s . . . something about this place. Can you feel it?” I whispered and felt like my words echoed throughout the entirety of the Valley.
Faylinn cocked her head as she listened.
“There is strong magic here. Blood magic,” she admitted. “I can feel it in the air, maybe that’s what you’re sensing.”
