I believe in you.
He swallowed hard. His voice sounded far away when he finally spoke. “We refuse to surrender.”
“Very well.” Morkai lifted his cane and tugged on the amber crystal that adorned the top. In a flash, the cane separated in two, revealing a long, slim dagger attached to the crystal, its hilt the same black color of his cane. Then, with a swipe, he slashed it over Arlous’ throat.
49
Teryn roared against his gag as he watched blood seep from his father’s throat. The guards stepped away, leaving Arlous staggering, writhing, his bound hands preventing him from covering the wound. Teryn struggled against the arms that restrained him. This time it wasn’t Morkai’s guards but his father’s own men. He was desperate to run to him, to save his father before he could bleed out. But all hope of that was lost when a flash of silver swept between Arlous’ head and shoulders. Teryn hadn’t seen the soldier come up behind his father, hadn’t seen him unsheathe his sword. He only saw as Arlous’ head was separated from his body before falling to the ground. Hot tears streamed down Teryn’s cheeks as he renewed his struggle to get free. “No, Your Majesty. No,” General Nellman kept saying over and over. At first, Teryn thought he was quietly lamenting Arlous’ death.
Then he realized Nellman was talking tohim.
He was king now.
Morkai stepped toward Larylis, who stood trembling, eyes fixed on their father’s corpse. “Do you feel satisfied with your choice, Larylis Alante?”
Larylis’ gaze shot toward the duke. His throat bobbed. Once. Twice. When he spoke, his words came out trembling. “We…we will now discuss terms for war.”
Morkai released a sigh and extended his free hand to the side. His cane was clenched in the other, his hidden blade back in its sheath. “No, we will not.”
The ground rumbled all around. A dark shape bounded over and leapt onto the rock. It was the Beast. Just then, one of the duke’s soldiers blew a deep and baleful horn.
The horn blastechoed through the valley, its tone reverberating through Cora’s bones. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dead king. They didn’t surrender. They weresupposedto surrender. She’d thought that was what had happened when Teryn had been transported to the other side of the rock. But now King Arlous was dead, and the horn…
It signaled battle.
She could spend no more time waiting for Teryn to get to safety. If the Forest People were going to take down the duke, they’d have to act now.
She assessed the figures who’d come to stand beside her, all dressed in the same leather armor she wore. The archers and spearmen had their weapons drawn. The Faeryn had their hands raised, ready to summon the Magic of the Soil.
A glance back at the valley showed the Roizan leaping onto the rock. It must have charged from her brother’s camp when she hadn’t been looking. With a spike of terror, she whirled toward Valorre and tore the cotton sheath from his horn. “Go,” she whispered.
The unicorn took off running.
Cora and the Forest People followed.
Teryn shouted Larylis’name, but his mouth was still gagged. His muffled cries were drowned out by the war horn, by General Nellman’s call for retreat. Larylis obeyed the call and dove off the rock. One of Menah’s soldiers got hold of Larylis and began ushering him away from the rock. Teryn stumbled, his movements made far more difficult with his hands still bound, but he was quickly hauled to his feet. He found Lieutenant Griff at his side, a knife in hand. He cut Teryn’s bindings and gag, then hastily dressed him in a belted sword and breastplate. All of his father’s soldiers—no,hissoldiers now—formed a wall around him and Larylis against the duke’s men.
Larylis sidled closer, sword raised. His hand trembled, his face as pale as a ghost as they continued their retreat. The duke’s men were gaining on them. Teryn exchanged a terrified glance with his brother. Neither needed words to express how they were feeling. They were both terrified. Reeling in the wake of their father’s death. “Your sword,” Larylis said, voice wavering.
Teryn glanced at the sword that had been belted at his waist. Only then did he recognize it. His father’s sword. His father’s breastplate. Both had been stripped from his father when Arlous had taken Teryn’s place. The armor was light. Not what a royal would wear into battle, but his father hadn’t anticipated how the meeting would end. It wasn’t how so-calledpeace talkswere supposed to work .
This isn’t howanythingis supposed to work.
Arlous’ death replayed before Teryn’s eyes, but he forced himself back to the present. Grief lanced his heart as he unsheathed his father’s sword. Morkai’s men were gaining on them, and the horn had likely summoned the rest of his forces back at camp. Hopefully it had summoned reinforcements from Menah and Selay as well.
Teryn caught a glimpse of the rock where Morkai stood next to his Beast, lips pulled into a smug grin. The view was quickly obscured by a misty fog. It sprouted from the earth in patches that were growing denser by the second.
His blood went cold.
This wasn’t fog.
A patch of mist turned corporeal before his eyes, forming a towering figure with a semi-translucent battle axe. The wraith swung the weapon, but not at Teryn. He was facing away from him…toward Lieutenant Griff.
Teryn’s warning came too late, and the man took the axe in his shoulder. With a grunt, Griff staggered forward and whirled to face his opponent. Through the wraith’s body, Teryn saw the lieutenant’s eyes go wide, saw where his armor was rent open to reveal a seeping wound. The man’s arm hung useless at his side, but he kept the other hand wrapped tight around his sword. The wraith swung his axe again, but Teryn dove into action. His father’s sword cleaved through the specter, making it disappear into a puff of mist.
Lieutenant Griff met Teryn’s gaze with a haunted look, his face already pale from blood loss.
“It’s going to reanimate in a matter of seconds,” Teryn said. “Be ready?—”
