They glance at me.
“If so,” I prop my legs on a nearby chair, “I can gladly order a second ale and get comfortable.”
Cyrus tips his head back and laughs. The sound travels through the room, and I keep my gaze focused solely on him.
“I like her, Silas,” Cyrus says, continuing to laugh. “She’s going to ruin you in the best way.”
Silas cuts his eyes toward me. “She already has.”
I place my hands around the chilled cup, lowering my legs. “A ship is days away from docking. It’s filled with the resurrected. Calia Thornfield and Nolan Harte have been working to raise an unstoppable army to assist Carobon in taking full control, as hetried centuries ago. We need your help now, and again in the future when we confront the Great Wiitch.”
Cyrus goes quiet and traces small circles around the frost on his cup.
“And what are we supposed to do when the other Great Wiitch—Kalix—comes forward?” Cyrus questions. “Will she attempt to eliminate all Lumor Wielders to ensure the darkness regains full power once more?”
I tense. “That won’t happen.”
He studies me. “And how do you plan to stop her?”
I narrow my eyes. “Kalix has lived within me for nearly six years, and she has yet to step forward fully. I’ve mastered controlling her, and every day I’m one step closer to destroying her. But,” I pause, glancing at Silas, “I plan to ensure that those around me have a strategy to handle her if it happens. Whatever that means for my own being.”
He furrows his brow, and Silas slowly travels his gaze toward me.
“What?” His voice snaps in my mind.
“Later,” I respond.
“Briar.”
That’s the first time I’ve said that aloud, and I know he wants to object. However, he remains quiet and lets me speak.
“I seek peace and fairness. I want all Wielders to coexist in harmony, without fear of power or death. I plan to cleanse this realm of both Great Wiitches, as others have attempted before, and quite frankly, I’m tired of power-hungry assholes ruining everything.”
He huffs, nodding his head.
I take a deep breath. “I can’t do it without allies.”
Cyrus looks at Silas and back at me. “And if you fail?”
“Then you’re dead anyway,” I answer. “We all are.”
Cyrus takes a drink of his ale.
“Help us, so we can ensure that neither of those options comes to fruition.”
He nods his head, listening to my words. He takes another long sip of his drink, and the foam clings to the stubble dusting his upper lip. He wipes it away and stares at me, dark eyes piercing into mine, but I remain firm and steady.
“What of Daramveer?” Cyrus asks.
I look at Silas; his gaze could ignite this bar. I follow in Cyrus’s footsteps and take a sip of my own ale before me.
“First on my list of things to do when I return to the mainland is reclaiming my kingdom and ensuring Eden suffers for the pain and torment she inflicted.” I lean forward. “Daramveer is mine, and I owe those people a safe home. I plan to do whatever is necessary to achieve that.”
Cyrus hums in response, then continues, “The people of Daramveer fled when they learned the truth of who lives within you, and today, Silas almost lost Andorwood. Why would I consider joining you when you have nothing to offer me? You two can’t even rule your own kingdoms.”
“We can,” I snap. “And we will.”
Cyrus sounds a sarcastic huff.
