A small, serpentine smile spread across Razia’s face. “Of course she did, Goddess,” he murmured.
“If she is currently indisposed, perhaps now would be the time to enter the Valley and capture her?” the commander intoned from my right.
I shook my head with a quick jerk.
“No. No one can enter while that cloud of magic covers the area. It, and she, is lost to us until then,” I admitted.
The commander grunted once in acknowledgement.
“Then we should move against the rebels. We have a general idea of their secondary location now. Preliminary reports also show that the second godling is no longer with the northernmost forces. Those loyal to our cause admitted to seeing him traveling south as recently as a week ago. It would be wise to attack them while both of the godlings are away.”
Sasori shifted on her feet, hands tucked behind her back, though I could see her muscles twitch as if she were twining her fingers together.
Interesting.
“I agree with the commander,” Razia smoothly interrupted. “We will also have the . . . support of the tribes in the Far North. Their . . . experiments have proven successful. If we wish to create Mages that can rival our enemies, we need to act quickly.”
The commander agreed with Razia, but I let their voices fade to a slight buzz as they leaned over the table, working together to articulate a plan of attack based on our current troop numbers and supply levels.
My eyes unbiddenly met Sasori’s over the men’s backs, and I narrowed my gaze as hers widened a fraction at the unintended eye contact. I leaned my head against a propped fist, refusing to be the first to break our stares, and raised my eyebrows slightly as if to ask what she thought of this whole mess.
Her whiskey eyes widened slightly before she shook her head imperceptibly, black braid swishing against her armor.
Interesting—she clearly could read me better than the two more battle-hardened men at the table.
Or she has her own agenda. I pushed the errant thought away, refusing to believe that yet another person in my innermost circle could betray me.
“No,” I said, my voice cracking across the space, freezing Razia and the commander in their places.
“Sorry, Goddess?” Razia bit out, his tone carrying far more disrespect and frustration than I would normally tolerate.
Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for him, my powers were still woefully depleted, and I was tired—an exhaustion that was starting to seep deep within my bones. I needed to rest, rejuvenate. We desperately needed to reevaluate our strategy and not rush into a battle we couldn’t win.
“I said, no. Is that a word you’re unfamiliar with, Razia?” I asked, my voicedeceptively calm. The man straightened from the table, clasping his hands in front of him as he bowed his head deferentially.
“Forgive me, Goddess. But nowisthe opportune time to attack. If we wait for even one of the godlings to return, who knows what?—”
I held up one bloody palm, halting his diatribe.
“The answer is still no. Even if the godlings return to their camp, we’ll have the upper hand if we take time to meticulously train and plan. You can be assured they are doing the same, and it will be easier to kill them all if they’re in one spot rather than spread out across Elyria.”
Razia reluctantly inclined his head.
“Send for your contacts in the north. Tell them to bring the weapon that will win me this war. Once that has happened, then we can devise our battle strategy.”
My eyes met Sasori’s once more, and I found a flicker of relief in her irises.
How interesting.
I pushed my chair out with a squeal before rising slowly from its depths. My muscles and joints protested each movement, as if I’d aged significantly over the past few hours.
Sasori, Razia, and the commander bowed sharply as I swept through the room and out the door, the loss of the piece of my soul hidden in that artifact paining me with each step.
Chapter Eighty
Folami
The voices surrounding me faded into a dull buzz, a cacophony of noise with no distinguishable features other than none of the voices were Itanya’s. None of the people in this room were her. None of the children playing in the courtyard outside the palace were her.
