Tol wrapped his arm around me, and we sat in silence until the tea was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ophelia
“Our numbers are officiallyup to a thousand new trainees,” Cypherion reported, standing before the council in his brown leathers, scythe resting against the dark wood table.
“That’s quick growth.” Danya nodded, impressed, her black hair swaying around her chin. She looked up from the map she was positioning troops on. Each clan was marked by a different symbol with the Mystique sigil adorning the top of the map, optimistic and proud. “It’s only been a month since the program began?”
“Yes.” Cyph’s hands were tight at his sides. “And more are traveling to Damenal every day.” Since he’d begun training Mystiques to prepare for the Undertaking—and eventually the looming war—we’d seen tremendous improvements in the candidates. And Cyph—he was a natural-born leader.
“There’s also smaller groups gathering in the cities,” Larcen added. “I’ve been inquiring after the status of warriors as the communication lines strengthen.”
I released a breath of relief. Everything was falling into place.
In the days since Malakai and I broke up, I’d thrown myself into meetings, research, and training. Anything to keep my body and mind busy enough that sleep was unavoidable when my head hit the pillow at night—Jezebel’s pillow, actually. I’d been sleeping in her room for a week now, not quite ready to be alone. A hollow sadness ached through my heart each time I was, a pulse of a past life, but I’d needto move into my new suite soon. Large apartments similar to my old one, but without the stains of the past.
Daily war councils didn’t allow me a chance to escape Malakai, but he remained stoic in the back of the room. I didn’t make eye contact with him, focusing on holding myself together instead.
We may not have had a large army, but we had an expanding force. We had growing trade once again and commerce was flourishing. The council had adopted apprentices as I’d requested. All except Danya, who continued to reassure me she had a plan.
“How many of your warriors have completed the Undertaking?” I asked Cyph. The groups he trained were all seventeen or older, many having been in our predicament of missing their eighteenth birthday. Everyone younger than that was sent to lower training groups, and those who had ascended were in Danya’s care.
“Only three hundred.”
“Have we lost any to it?” I held my breath—the room held its breath.
“Two,” Cyph mumbled. His shoulders curved inward, hands bracing themselves on the table.
“That’s an impressively low rate, Cypherion,” my father said, gripping Cyph’s shoulder. “You should be proud of them all.”
Though any loss of Mystique blood was a shame, my father was right. Out of hundreds of warriors, only two had not survived the Undertaking. It was a risky endeavor, and everyone in this room knew that. Most of us had lived it, save for Malakai, Barrett, Dax, and the delegates.
“I’m going to lower it,” Cyph swore.
“It’s not your fault.” I stared at him until he looked back.
His lips forced a smile, but worry dulled his blue eyes. “I know.” The words sounded hollow, and he sank into a chair.
I cleared my throat. “Now on to the Engrossians. There’s still no indication of what Kakias has planned. Where her end goal is.”
“Damenal is what makes sense.” Danya’s lips twisted. I feared that was precisely why Kakias chose otherwise.
“If she’s sweeping toward the Mystique Territories, she could ravage the trade routes we’re rebuilding,” Larcen hypothesized, running a hand over his auburn scruff.
“Or she could be aiming to cut off communications between us and other clans?” Jezebel pointed to the map unrolled across the table. “If she gets to the western border of the mountains and cuts both north and around the southern base, she’ll sever the Mystiques from all other clans, save for the Seawatchers, who can’t offer much aid, anyway.”
“She knows many Mystiques have returned to Damenal, though,” Alvaron claimed.
“Even better,” Cypherion said. “She’d be dividing us. Not only would we be unable to amass one army, but Damenal would be without a number of key resources. It’s not a bad plan.”
“No, it’s not. But she’d be positioning her armies at the base of the mountains, then.” Danya scanned the map with the precision of a warrior who’d planned countless battles. “It would be easy for us to surround them.”
“Assuming we can gather our forces quickly enough,” Tolek said. He was right—Kakias was acting swiftly because she knew we were still recovering the army that had fallen to her two years ago.
“It still doesn’t explain why,” Cyph mumbled.
Barrett was right; understanding your enemy was as transformative as knowing their strategies.
