“The fires she spotted were here.” Elora pointed to the Blasted Pass. “There are other ways in and out of the Effren Valley, but civilians do not know them. Nightwalkers—succubus—do not build fires. They must be escapees from Baylaur.”
“But are there males among them? They could have been decimated by the succubus already, since the girl saw them last,” Arran reasoned. I hated that he was right.
“We communicated as much as we could with the city, but there is no telling when they fled. They may not realize the danger their males pose,” Elora confirmed.
But Elora and Arran were not discussing how to rescue them. They were discussingwhetherto rescue them. “I will not leave my subjects to die alone in the Blasted Pass when we have the resources to save them.”
Arran wisely did not reach for me as he said, “There are casualties in every war, Veyka.”
My hands went to my waist instinctively; like an idiot, I had not donned my belt and scabbards.
“If we deploy any energy around Baylaur, it would be best used finding what remains of the elemental army,” Arran continued. “We need to prepare for war at the time and place of our choosing.”
“Thisismy choice.”
“The humans in Eldermist will help us.” Gwen no longer stood by the wall.
“Humans?” The word slid off of my tongue like the insult it was.
“The envoy you sent arrived in Baylaur. We gave them succor; fae females to guard their village.” Gwen pointed to the map. “The rift is here, not far from the Blasted Pass. We could bring the survivors in the mountains through the rift and the humans could shelter them. The last communication that came through, they were still in control of the village.”
“How long ago was that?” Arran asked.
“Ten days.” Gwen did not meet my eyes.
But Arran did.
My gaze bore right back into his.You are asking me to trust my subjects into the care of humans?
The humans were not responsible for Arthur’s death. He must have seen the murder in my eyes, because he added—Not wholly.
I did not say or think a response to that. The problem with letting myself feel was that those feelings overwhelmed me.
Arran stroked a thumb over the head of his axe as his eyes scanned the map.There are already fae warriors among them.
I laughed derisively, not caring what everyone else in the room thought was happening. Some arguments were just for the King and Queen.The survivors in the mountains are not warriors. They are commoners. The humans could slaughter them in their sleep. You remember how they were when we were in Eldermist.
I do.
Arran lifted one hand to my cheek, cupping it as if we were alone, without a war council forming around us. He narrowed the world to just the two of us with that single touch.We have all changed since then. Maybe they have, too.
I closed my eyes and let myself pretend for a moment that we were not High Queen and King, that we did not have these monumental decisions to make every other minute.
We could bring them here.
Eilean Gayl is already bursting with the survivors from the palace. Eldermist is closer to their home.Arran’s warm breath caressed my skin.So they can return when we take back our city.
A promise—that we would win this war and restore our kingdom.
I opened my eyes. “Fine. Plan it.”
10
CYARA
The priestess’s sanctum had been converted into an infirmary. She knew she’d find her mother there, keeping herself busy to avoid the debilitating weight of her grief. Cyara had cried her tears through the night and well into the dawn. But by the time the sun finally shined its pale, watery light over Eilean Gayl, her despair had hardened itself into resolve.
She would not lose another loved one to the succubus. And most certainly not her queen.
