Arran walked at Osheen’s side.
The tension in my chest eased a little.
Cyara had held my hands on the bridge and told me that after Arran followed me to the mines, she’d asked Isolde to go back to the faerie caves to retrieve Osheen and Maisri. Ever loyal, Isolde had not hesitated.
I should have thought of it sooner. Osheen had been one of Arran’s lieutenants for centuries. Arran trusted him implicitly. He was also the only one who knew us both, who Arran still remembered, other than Gwen.
Gwen. Had word come from Baylaur while we were away?
Cyara would have told me, surely.
But there were so many terrestrials around. I needed to speak with her first, then—
No.
This had to be done, now.
I nodded to Elayne.
She hesitated, probably wondering if she’d misinterpreted the gesture. I nodded again, toward the wall where Pant stood, waiting. I was not addressing the congregation as her guest, but as their queen.
My Knights moved through the hall, falling in at my side. I wished Guinevere was with me. Cyara and Lyrena, both formidable in their own ways, were elementals. Which meant that now was finally the moment for Arran to be a king.
What are you planning?
I betrayed nothing as he came to stand at my side. His jaw ticked. He knew I’d heard his question and chosen not to answer.
Please, trust me.But I kept that plea safe inside my own head.
I pulled my dagger, its blade swirled with amorite. I lifted it high above my head. Slowly, the voices died away. Their eyes found me at the apex of the grand, ancient hall. I held the blade aloft. My arm began to ache, but I did not allow it to tremble. I waited. Until every single set of eyes was on me.
“Citizens of Annwyn.” I took a breath long enough to hear my own heartbeat. A second longer, and I might lose my nerve. “We face a grave threat. An enemy so old, we have forgotten its name. But they have not forgotten us. I am the queen of the Void Prophecy. The darkness is coming for Annwyn.”
76
ARRAN
It could have been worse. Most of those assembled merely blinked up at Veyka in confusion. Terrestrials were warriors. They all knew the Void Prophecy existed. But I doubted any of them could recite it. It was a legend—like mates.
But there Veyka stood. Real. My mate, not a legend.
And not done talking.
“The humans call them nightwalkers, because they come while we sleep. They creep into the minds of our males and turn them into monsters. Mindless, vicious monsters who will kill a wife, a child, a friend.” She paused. “We know them by their true name. The succubus.”
Silence.
Shifting of feet, but not shifting to beasts. A small miracle. The silence would not hold. Veyka knew it, by the expectant tilt of her chin. But what else did she have to say?
What are you doing?
My mind was silent. Not even a growl.
She did not trust me, even after the ice cave.
“Amorite is our only defense, the only thing that will repel them.” She dropped her travel pack, tugging loose the plumppouch strapped to the side. She held it aloft where her blade had been. “By royal decree—every male in Eilean Gayl will step forward to have his flesh pierced by amorite.”
The great hall erupted.
