Serill stomped on Brela’s foot before she snapped again.
“We do,” he said, pulling the satchel and tubes from his shoulder. When his father reached for the items, Serill pulled them back slightly. “Brela’s reward?”
The king studied him for a moment before sighing. “Yes, of course.” He motioned behind him, a soldier Serill didn’t know handing Boelyn a rather hefty looking coin purse. “Half of the reward for the warning, and for returning with my son.”
Brela swiped it from Boelyn and inspected the contents. Serill waited for her to nod before he handed the plans to the king.
“Come, now,” the man mumbled, already headed back into the office he had come from.
Boelyn put himself between the king and Brela as they followed, soldiers flanking them but still keeping a good distance away from the Night Terror. She grinned and snapped her teeth at a few who stepped a little too close.
Serill leaned forward and whispered, “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Brela smirked, then shrugged. That damn shrug. “Just wait, Prince.”
Oh, gods. Another scheme of hers. He was not equipped to handle this on his own.
She peeled off once they got into the office, five of the king’s guard following with their hands on their swords. She merely snagged a book off the shelves and flopped onto the couch with a loud and unflattering grunt.
King Ingram only gave her an amused look before uncurling the papers on his desk.
For an uncomfortable several minutes, Serill’s father remained stoic. He read through the papers once. Twice. Then seemed to settle on the drill.
“So, theyarebreaking the wall.”
Serill nodded. “There is no sign that the drill has been completed, but they’ve been running other tests.” He leaned over the desk and pointed to a few different weapons. “Using ground obsidian in their weapons, carving shards out of the wall, and worse”—he flipped open the notebook—“running tests on non-magic users to see if they can get through.”
After reading a few pages, the king’s eyes darted to Brela. “Ah, isthishow our famous Night Terror became branded?”
Brela didn’t lift her head from the book. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“How old were you when it was burned into your skin? Were you a prisoner of Anfroy? A slave?”
Her pale eyes flicked up and she smirked. “As a devout worshipper of Ryia’s monument, I picked up the tools and did it myself the second I was born.” She huffed a laugh and flipped the page as if bored with the conversation. “I don’t answer to you.”
“We’ll see,” he snorted, then returned to the papers. “What do you suppose is on the other side of this wall?”
Serill poked the supply list. “Look at all this hellthorn. Look at how spread out their camps are along the wall. What do you think they expect?”
The king fired a mocking grin at Brela. “A celvusa?”
Brela didn’t bite as she flipped the page, sneaking a glance at her left wrist. The one that tethered her to the shadow wolf. The beast shecommandedwith her magic to save them from the noglida. Her fingers curled briefly over the invisible leash before she waved that hand dismissively. “As if five kingdoms could survive a single celvusa.”
Four hells, this woman was incredible. If Cason were here, the heat would have spiked—
He stopped that train of thought.
“As you can see,” Serill said, clearing his throat, “Anfroy intends to getthroughthe wall. They expect the shadow-kind to be waiting on the other side. The army is recruiting non-magic users for when the experiments work. And if they can’t get through, they will tear it down.”
“And the purpose of all of this?”
“The purpose?“ Serill repeated, incredulous.
“Ah,” the king said, humming. “I need to knowwhythey want this war. You see, you haven’t really brought me what I asked. I owe the Night Terror nothing.”
Brela snapped her book shut as she shot to her feet. “You need a reason other than the proof that they have developed weapons to shatter the barrier?”
“Sit down,” the king hissed.
