And as the court bent beneath her name, Rune thought with quiet certainty,Did I not promise you, my deadly little flower? The world will bow at your feet.
CHAPTER 62
Alora
The castle forge roared like a living beast, humid heat rippling against Alora’s skin as she stood among the smiths of Argyle. Sparks spat from hammers striking black ore, the shards ringing sharp as they were shaped into blades. Even the firelight was subdued by the strange black metal, swallowing the glow as if the darkness itself had been forged into steel.
Calla lingered at her side, shadows curling lazily around her wrists. A pace behind them was Caelum, his expression grim. Zuma merely leaned against the wall, silent as a statue as he watched the smiths work among the Minotaurs.
Her people didn’t know what to do with the barrels of Night Ash Rune had provided. A mineral created from demon blood and crushed meteorite.
When properly forged, it becomes Nightstone.
Deadly to demons and mortals alike.
Lord Zuma’s kind knew steel and worked day and night to help forge weapons. The racks were full now with blades as black as the void of the Abyss.
“Even if we filled the armory with Nightstone,” Calla said, voice flat, “it will not be enough when we don’t have enough hands to hold them.”
Caelum gave a stiff nod. “Our armies were bled dry against Calveron. We’re asking them to fight again when they can barely stand. Against foes beyond our measure.”
Alora pressed her lips together, her gaze lingering on the weapons.
They had worked day and night for the past month to prepare. And yet even as the racks filled with black steel, dread gnawed at her. Would Rune’s army be enough? Even with shadows at their back, what hope did they have against a Primordial?
“We do not fear Primordials nor the Wild Hunt,” Zuma rumbled, his deep voice rolling like thunder. “Arm us, my Queen, and we shall stand at your side, or fall at your side, if need be. Our blood has long been spilled on this soil. It’s our home, and we will not yield it.”
Warmed by his words, Alora lightly rested her hand on his furry arm. “I commend your bravery, Lord Zuma. Our people will need it.” She turned to Caelum, her voice steady despite the unease clawing at her ribs. “Were you able to make contact with the United Crown?”
Caelum’s gaze flickered over her changed features, gliding to the ends of her hair moving like living flame, to the markings glowing on her skin. He cleared his throat. “No, Your Majesty. Our ships could not cross the seal.”
Alora sighed. That had been her last hope.
They would find no allies in this war. Rune had told her about the enchanted dome that sealed the kingdom, preventingall from leaving or entering. Another part of this curse that trapped them in time. Even if she could get a word out, she imagined any neighboring kingdom would decline sending their men to slaughter.
The forge’s smoke made her eyes mist. The day she reclaimed her power, the spread of the Sleeping Curse had halted, yet those already claimed by it still lay trapped in their slumber. Including half of Argyle’s army.
“And the Banners?” she asked next.
Caelum gave her a hesitant nod. “Most have gathered at your call, Your Majesty. Save for a few disgruntled lords.”
Ser Tallin and Lord Graye, she presumed.
Their men had yet to present themselves in the training yard.
The bond hummed as Rune surfaced in her mind like a phantom.I warned them to comply or die. Really, I couldn’t have been clearer. Shall I carve your name into their bones, so they are reminded who rules this Realm?
Alora smiled to herself.We want their allegiance, Rune. Harming them would only make the other lords dither when loyalties are fragile. They already tremble in their beds in fear of you.
When she had officially introduced her husband at Argyle’s court, several ladies fainted. The pale lords looked ready to do the same.
Rune’s chuckle echoed in her thoughts.If only they knew the only one I seek to make tremble, is you.
The lewd insinuation warmed her cheeks, sending a flutter through her stomach. He did plenty of that.
And how fare your matters at hand?
His responding groan was equal parts bored and irritated. Which must mean the council meeting with Dominions was going well.
