“Bend the knee?” Rune repeated. He spoke softly, but the words cracked like split stone. He leaned forward, crimson eyes searing. “To a bound Primordial left buried in the Abyss while the world forgot his name?”
Segrith drew invisible shapes on the table. “I have not forgotten,” she replied idly. “As I have not forgotten the Devourer’s power. Our numbers are trivial. Our strength further still. Even against the least among the Primordials, your strength alone is not enough.”
Rune’s shadows coiled upward, licking the ceiling and Alora tensed. His quiet wrath made the mountain shudder. Dust and debris rained from the vaulted ceiling, scattering across the war table.
The temperature in the chamber grew scorching.
Alora feared for the tiny Dominion, but she had asked for council and Segrith spoke honestly.
Beneath the table, she rested her hand over Rune’s. His fingers tightened once, a silent tether, then his shadows stilled.
“You may be able to contend with him, sire,” Sal’vathar said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, almost humorous, though what he said next was not. “But I must remind you, heis not the only threat. Once Vorak rises, he will bring the Wild Hunt with him.”
An awful chill crept into Alora’s bones. The Primordial army.
How many?She sent through the bond
The Wild Hunt is a host of a hundred thousand.Rune gripped her hand when it shook, but his expression did not change. “I have not forgotten,” he said aloud. “We are well aware of what comes.”
Sal’vathar’s smile turned sharp as glass as he regarded her. “When Elyon sealed the Primordials, he made them the pillars that hold up the realms. Do you know what will happen should they break free as well?”
The collapse of the world.
Inwardly she shivered, though Alora didn’t allow any sliver of fear on her face. “I know what is at stake, Sal’vathar.”
Balgor grunted, gnawing on a slab of meat. “Thus, I repeat—folly.”
Beside him, Morvennareclined in her chair, the thin silk of her gown slipping scandalously as she stretched with a languid sigh. “We succubae are not bred for war, regardless.”
Calla rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“No, you prefer to breed,” Nexia intoned, and Morvennasneered
Their useless bickering only made Alora’s temples tense. “If only the kingdom wasn’t sealed in by the curse. Then we could have sought aid. The elves and the mages or even other fae courts surely have the magic to help us fight.”
Deimos’ mouth twisted. “The Vale of the Elves is currently in civil war, my lady. Two princes claw at each other’s throats and would sooner see their kingdom collapse than kneel to one another. As for the Magos Empire, it takes years to debate the raising of a single levy, let alone a battle. And the fae…”
“The fae do not march to war lightly,” Zinnia said at last. “But we remember who stood when others hid.”
Lord Zuma grunted in agreement, while Zinnia’s pink eyes flickered briefly to Commander Caelum.
The motion was small. Intentional. And for the briefest moment, something cold slid through Alora’s chest as she recalled Delphi’s reaction to him as well.
Why?
The thought barely had time to form before Caelum cleared his throat. “The humans are brave when it counts,” he said evenly, clamping a fist over his heart. “The people of Argyle have bled to regain their land back from invasion. They are not going to bow to another.”
Alora nodded, the doubt slipping away as quickly as it had come… though the unease lingered.
“Of course…” Caelum added evenly, briefly glancing at her. “The odds would be in greater favor with better numbers.”
Her stomach sank. More than two thirds of the kingdom’s population had fallen to the Sleeping Curse, and it could not be broken until Vorak was destroyed.
Regardless, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were all headed to their doom.
This wasn’t enough.
The Goddess of Death had all but confirmed she would return to gather the souls of the dead. Likely hers. Alora was not ready to think about that yet.
