Teryn hated how quickly relief could turn to dread.
He scanned the letter in his hands three times over, his stomach sinking deeper with each repetition. He’d been so elated to see Berol. She’d caught his eye while he’d been meeting with Master Arther and Ridine’s head mason regarding repairs on the keep roof and destroyed battlement. He’d hardly been able to focus on inspecting the parapets and discussing repairs when all he’d wanted was the letter curled in Berol’s talon. Yet she’d kept her distance until Teryn’s guests had left and he was alone on the battlement.
Now the wind cut his cheeks, threatening to tear the letter from his fingertips, as he read the note once more. Then, with a sigh, he pocketed the letter and leaned over the parapet wall, elbows propped upon the chest-high crenel before him. Berol hopped down from one of the merlons and nipped at his arm. Absently, he fed her a strip of dried venison.
Cora’s letter contained good news. They’d found the Forest People as planned. Mareleau was no longer targeted by the dragons. They’d found a solution to return the dragons to where they’d come from and had even found Ailan.
At least that’s what he’d determined from the sparse details her letter contained.
We found who we’ve been looking for. Not just the many I sought, but the one. She has promised to keep her kin safe and has control over the troublesome beasts. I will attend a meeting with her people to form an alliance and will come home as soon as I can.
Those were the lines that had required the most repetition. From the way she’d avoided stating names and locations, she was being cautious in case Berol was intercepted by the enemy. It was a practical choice yet a maddening one. He wished she’d simply spelled it all out so that he didn’t have to guess. But what other conclusion could he come to? They’d found Ailan and would next find the tear and bring the dragons back through it. Mareleau and Noah would be protected behind the Veil, and Cora would try to forge an alliance with the Elvyn.
There was hope in her letter. A miraculous hope at that. Finding Ailan hadn’t been part of the plan, only a feeble wish. Yet somehow Cora had found her amongst the Forest People. And an alliance with the Elvyn could be exactly what they needed to defeat Darius. He had two armies, after all—the naval forces he’d launched from Syrus and the forces he’d gained from his alliance with Norun. To defeat him, they needed more soldiers than he had. More strength.
Yet that hope led to dread, for it meant Cora was going farther away. It meant he had even less of an idea where she was, if she was safe, or when she’d return.
I miss you. I love you. I’ll return.
That was how the letter ended. He’d trust those words, even if they did nothing to lift the heaviness in his heart.
“You should have gone with Cora.”
Berol cocked her head, but Teryn hadn’t been talking to her.
A faint figure had formed beside him.
Emylia crossed her arms and leaned against the parapet. “You wanted me to act as your messenger bird as well?”
“Now that I’m reminded how practical and cautious my darling wife can be in writing, I realize you would have served as a better way to glean solid information.”
“At least you know she’s safe.”
Neither of them said what lingered unspoken. That she was safe…for now. And now that Berol had left Cora’s side, he wasn’t sure when he’d get another update.
Berol nipped his arm again. At first he thought she was asking for more treats. While that may be the case, it reminded him of the second letter that had been rolled up with the first. He hadn’t dared read it, for it had been addressed to Larylis. That isn’t to say he wasn’t tempted, for there was a chance Mareleau hadn’t been as careful with her words and information as Cora had. She may have shared more details that would give Teryn a clearer idea of their situation. And yet, whatever she wrote was meant for his brother. He wouldn’t cross that boundary.
With great reluctance, he turned the scroll over to Berol, along with another strip of meat.
“To Larylis.” He didn’t mention where to find him, for he was likely still on the road. Berol had demonstrated a remarkable knack for finding those she was familiar with no matter where they were. He trusted she’d find Larylis too.
Berol took the letter and flew off the battlement. He watched as she quickly turned into a speck in the distance.
“Cora will be fine,” Emylia said. “You know how strong she is.”
He did know, but seven devils, this situation was devolving into unknown territory. Quite literally, in some respects. There was so much they still didn’t know. So much they couldn’t plan for. Cora’s vague details only contributed to that untethered feeling.
His gaze drifted from the sky—Berol no longer in sight—to the landscape. Thankfully it was free of smoke and the shadows of wings and had been since the night before. No wonder he hadn’t gotten any new reports of fiery destruction or dragon sightings. If Cora had found Ailan, and Ailan had control over the dragons, that was one less problem he had to address.
Though addressing problems was something he thrived on. Planning for repairs, holding audiences, offering reparations to those who’d lost their homes and crops to dragon fire…he’d been trained for these things his whole life. As troublesome as these matters were, staying busy kept the edge off his restlessness. Moving, acting, problem-solving—serving as king consort while Cora was away—gave him purpose. Robbed him of opportunities to panic.
Something moved far below in his periphery, drawing his gaze to the charred field that marred the castle lawn. There a pale semi-transparent figure wandered across the dead earth. At first he thought Emylia had transported herself there, but no, she was still at his side.
He narrowed his eyes until he could make out the distinct shape of the wraith, a ghostly sword at its side. Its eyes were hollow holes.
He cast a questioning look at Emylia. “Is that…”
“One of Morkai’s warrior wraiths?” She nodded. “I think so.”
