“There’s much more we must discuss before we take action,” Ailan said. “Everything we do will have vast consequences. Calling themoraback is no small feat. Even if I called back enough to strengthen a team of our greatest wardweavers, it would take time to untie the edges of my mother’s ward and finish where she left off. And that’s without considering that Darius will try to invade before we can finish the Veil, or the thousands upon thousands of humans who inhabit Lela.”
“What happens to the humans is beneath our concern,” Fanon said.
“What happens to the humans is ofmyconcern,” Ailan said, “which makes it yours. Your duties as steward have been fulfilled. I am here now, so you will heed my word.”
There was no room for argument with the edge infusing her tone.
“As you wish, regent.” Fanon spoke through his teeth, but there was a softening around his eyes that harkened back to their bittersweet reunion.
She returned that look, then addressed the others. “The situation may be complex, but I agree it is one we must address at once. Garot, please weave us a path to…”
Etrix finished for her. “Alles’Taria Palace. We kept the name of the original seat of the Morkara, to honor the palace that was lost in El’Ara’s heart.”
The palace that was lost…
Centerpointe Rock.
Cora had told Mareleau about the rock’s origins. While she’d never seen it, only heard about it from Larylis and Cora, the thought that an entire palace could be whittled down to a single ruin like that was chilling.
“To Alles’Taria Palace, then,” Ailan said. “Once we reach it, weave a secondary path to take Cora and Mareleau straight to a private room. I don’t want anyone gawking at our guests, or even knowing they’re here until we’ve spoken with the tribunal.”
Garot strolled to the edge of the meadow and gestured with a complex wave of his fingers. The swirling vortex they’d emerged from opened once more. “Right this way.”
Ailan gave an encouraging nod for Cora and Mareleau to follow. Valorre tossed his mane, clearly as reluctant as Mareleau was. Yet she followed nonetheless, stomach turning with every step she took toward the three Elvyn and the strange tunnel. She nearly lost her footing as they entered the Vortex. While the ground remained solid beneath her feet, the swirling colors of green and brown made it impossible to keep her bearings. So she fixed her gaze on Ailan’s back instead. The Elvyn closed in behind them.
She cast a squinted look at Cora. Her friend’s grimace told her she was tolerating the nauseating tunnel just as poorly. Mareleau leaned in close. “Yet another situation that could have gone better.”
“To be honest,” Cora whispered back, “I think it could have gone far, far worse.”
An ominous statement, yet Cora would know. The collar she carried was proof enough of just how bad a human could fare in El’Ara. That made the back of her neck prickle as they walked on down the dizzying path with no end in sight. But worse than her fear of what lay ahead was the dread that swelled inside her, growing with every breath, every heartbeat. It reminded her that every minute here was hours back home. Hours were days. A single day was a week.
Being away from Larylis this long was already torment enough.
How much harder would it be for him?
35
It had been four days since Larylis had last seen his wife and held his son in his arms, and every minute was like a spear to the chest. Not even the letter Berol had delivered three nights ago had alleviated the pain. If anything, it had only made it worse. For now, he knew his wife and child were going far beyond his reach.
At least they’d be safe.
He stared out the window in Verlot Palace’s Royal Study at the mountains and forest awash with sunset hues. Instead of the pink-kissed green that comprised his view, he wished he could cast his gaze over the Balma Sea and pinpoint the enemy. But not even reports from the southwest lighthouses had caught sight of the fleet.
He’d arrived at Verlot that morning after maintaining a breakneck pace with only the closest members of his retinue. He’d already met with his council and analyzed the updates from the scouts.
No reports of enemy activity. No reports of unexpected ships approaching Vera’s shores.
It was too early to expect much as far as his scouts’ efforts were concerned, for he’d only dispatched them by land and sea days ago. Yet shouldn’t he have receivedsomething? Some word that the prisoner’s warning was true?
He’d done the calculations a thousand times in his head, and on paper a thousand times more, assessing different routes, different ports, different hidden harbors. No matter how many times he tried to come to a new conclusion, he couldn’t. Because if Darius had launched his fleetbeforethe prisoner had left to spy in Khero, even if only days before the man had gotten caught and taken into custody, it didn’t change that the ships should already be here. They should at least be in sight. If they were staying in the channel, waiting to make the rest of the journey at some later date, merchant ships would have passed, giving scouts some information to glean from talk at the ports.
More troubling was Teryn’s newest update, delivered by Berol mere hours ago. Ever since Berol had brought Mareleau’s letter, he and Teryn had utilized her to exchange daily updates. Unlike messenger horses, the falcon could fly between the two castles, one direction and back again, in less than a day. So far every update from Teryn had been the same. No news. No updates. Then today…
The prisoner has been killed.
Larylis planted his hands on the windowsill, squinting at the mountain range in the distance but not truly seeing it. He assessed the facts. The prisoner had confessed to Darius being in southern Norun, and that he’d summoned his fleet to make landfall in southwest Vera. Within days, the spy had been found dead in his cell. He’d clearly been punished and silenced, and from someone inside Ridine at that.
And yet…
