Not a single warrior moves.
“Do as you wish to me, but I’ve already told the other lords. They’re preparing to retrieve Nandi’s son, the true heir, as we speak,” Fektir says, grinning.
Rholker yells and tries to charge. The guards who ignored the king’s call shove Rholker back, hard. He slides through the fetid blood, leaving a foul streak across the ground. And his head crashes into one of the benches with a loud crack.
His eyes cloud over, and black edges his vision.
Screams of grown men fill his ears.
Seconds later, his vision clears, and a small tattooed hand reaches out toward him, pulling him to his feet with dark magic.
Dahlia stands there, murderous and alone.
Behind her, Fektir is nothing more than pulp, blood, and silver fabric. The guards are slightly better off. Most of their body parts can at least be identified.
“My sssisters are dead,” Dahlia says, her snake swirling around her neck.
It pauses, looking at Rholker, and bares its teeth.
Rholker swallows. The demonstration of power laying on the ground behind the womens’ forms is warning enough. He holds up his hand.
“It was not by me, I?—”
“You have broken your deal, Giant King,” she continues.
Rholker swallows, panting.
“They broke your deal,and I’m trying to help you get revenge,” he says, desperate. “They are going to the mines, where my brother’s son is being raised. If they find him, then I will no longer have a right to the throne.”
Dahlia looks down at him, hood down with her black pupils swallowing every inch of white. She looks at him like this information was worth less than dirt.
“If you want my armies and the souls of my slaves, then you have to prevent him from becoming king,” Rholker says. “If you kill me, you will not find a willing participant among the otherlords in my court.”
Dahlia stares for a few more moments and then says, “Very well. This is your last chance.”
Chapter 40
Euclase
ESTELA
War is fast… until it isn’t fast enough.
I sit atopdrathorinna, this time with a proper saddle and full golden armor, protecting my body from the few rays of sunlight passing through the grey clouds and the icy chill. Teo is seated behind me, both of us tied to the crystal handles on her scales. Below us, troops march and ride every manner of creature. Enduar and elf alike race forward, armor glinting, beasts bounding.
Last night, after traveling for three days, we were camped out near the Giant capital when we received a plethora of information through the speaking stones—maps, warnings, and words. The first part played through my mind:
Rholker is leaving Zlosa as we speak. Deep in the forest, near to where the swamp ogres live, there is a mine. He has gone to secure his throne against a bid by Lord Fektir. He travels with one remainingBruja, and we expect they will arrive within the week. We tried to slow his departure, but the information we were given was about the three Warriors sent to chase him. Beware of them.
I was furious upon hearing the message.
We were so close.
This morning, we took our provisions and left for the Giant City with bear, wolf,glacialmara,and in my case, crystal dragon. We travel at a swift momentum, and it isn’t fast enough. It will take us four more days at least to reach the location.
Battle drums play below us, dictating the rhythm and step of two thousand and two hundred soldiers. It pounds through the air. The road is tiresome, but our army is strong.
Given what I saw in the giant court, Fektir's plotting wasn't surprising. He is the kind of man who can smell weakness and exploit it. Rholker is a scheming creature, a powerful one at that, but it seems that his brashness is finally paying off.
