Mal pulled me close. “Neither do I. But we can defend ourselves if needed. Let that information calm you somehow.”
It didn’t, but I appreciated the feeling. We stood there in the ritual room with nothing else to do but wait.
Would the Prince respond? Would he even get it?
Only time would tell.
16
— • —
Wen
An hour after sending the message through that unstable portal, I stood in the ritual room trying to remember how to breathe. My palms were damp. My heart was doing its best impression of a trapped bird. This was either going to work or spectacularly backfire, and the not knowing was the worst part.
Mal was beside me, hand resting on his sword hilt, ready for anything. Tyreen and Casimya flanked us on either side. Guards positioned around the room at strategic intervals, all of them tense and alert.
“Ready?” Tyreen asked.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I focused on the same energy signature from before. That dark thread leading back to Igryside.Prince. Prince. Prince. Royalty. Power.
The portal flickered to life, the edges wavering like heat shimmer on a summer road. But it was there. It was actually working.
We held our breath. The seconds stretched out like candy. Nothing happened. Nothing after a few minutes. My hands started to shake. What if he hadn’t gotten the message? What if he’d decided it was too dangerous? What if this was all for nothing?
Then a piece of paper slipped through the opening.
Mal moved faster than I’d ever seen him, catching it before it hit the ground. He unfolded it, scanned the contents, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.
“What does it say?” I demanded.
“I agree with the alliance,” Mal read aloud.
The room exhaled collectively. Thank the gods.
But the relief lasted about three seconds before my brain caught up. This could still be a trap. An elaborate ruse to get us to lower our guard.
“Make it bigger,” Mal instructed. “If he wants to meet, let him come through. If it’s a trap, then we’ll deal with it right now.”
Right. Because opening portals to enemy kingdoms and inviting their princes through was just my life now. Totally normal. Nothing weird about this at all.
I focused on the portal, pouring energy into expanding it. It fought me, resisting like something alive. I gritted my teethand pushed harder. Two feet. Three feet. Four. The strain was incredible. Six feet. Large enough for a person to walk through.
Then, again, we waited.
And waited.
The portal shimmered, empty. No movement on the other side. This was bright light, like the one that connected Earth with Lytopia. I wasn’t sure why, but I really could’ve appreciated being able to see to the other side right now.
“Maybe he changed his mind,” I muttered.
“Or it is, indeed, a trap,” Mal said. But as he spoke, a figure stepped through the portal like conjured by his words. Every guard in the room drew their weapon. The sound of metal scraping leather filled the silence, followed by the distinctive ring of blades being pulled free.
The man washuge. Easily Mal’s height, maybe taller, with shoulders that looked like they could carry an ox. Or two oxen. Or a small house. Blonde hair was cropped military-short, no-nonsense and practical. Harsh features that looked carved from stone by an angry sculptor with something to prove looked back at us. He had a jagged scar running from his left temple all the way down to his jaw, pale against tanned skin, making him look even more dangerous. Good gods. He definitely was like I would picture Thor. Or a very handsome Viking warrior.
Of course, he was handsome in a brutal, dangerous way. The kind of handsome that came with a body count, theliteralkind, and no apologies for it.
He raised his hands slowly, showing he was unarmed. His movements were deliberate, controlled. “I come in peace.” Even his voice was a dark, low rumble.
