I process this for a moment, aware of the way Catalina—as well as Mother Solas and Rachel—are casting glances at each other. They’re clearly thinking it through.
But Dusana herself is peering at me, which tells me it’s my reaction that matters to her.
“Anything else?” I ask, keeping my expression blank.
“As a show of faith, Karasi has withdrawn her army from the western border to give the humans time to prepare. At dawn in three days’ time, Queen Karasi will assemble her army on the eastern plain. Either the human champion will meet herchampion in a fight to the death, or the fae army will push west and kill every human in its path.”
Catalina murmurs beneath her breath, “A single death or outright war.”
“It won’t be that simple,” I say.
Catalina is so caught up in what this proposal means for herself and her people—and why wouldn’t she be, since they are her largest concern?—that she has missed the obvious.
“Dusana of the Dusk,” I say to the fae, “why did you bring this message tome?”
Her eyes are dull, not a hint of malice, as she says, “Because your brother’s life depends on it.”
Chapter 43
My brother’s life.
I don’t react, even though I’m fighting my rising anger and frustration.
I finally have all the power I could ever ask for, but my family is still in danger.
“Explain,” I command Dusana.
“If the humans agree to a fight between champions, your brother will be returned to you on the battlefield. If not, he will be killed.”
My mind whirls as I try to sort through Karasi’s motivations. She clearly wants me to convince the humans to agree to the fight, but why?
Karasi has maintained an appearance of strength, even though her army is depleted. A fight to the death will ensure she doesn’t have to reveal how weakened her army has become. It would also mean she doesn’t have to pit her people against dragons because defeating them would be extremely difficult.
But to pin her life on the outcome of a single fight, she would have to be confident that her champion would win.
Unless… there’s something I’m not seeing. Information I don’t yet have. A game with pieces I can’t yet see.
Dusana hasn’t stopped studying me, and now her hands twitch nervously. “I’ve delivered my message,” she says. “I will leave now.”
I arch my eyebrows at her. “How do you propose to do that?”
Concord hasn’t returned. There is still a massive dragon guarding the clearing along with a very unhappy human champion who looks like she would rather dispatch Dusana to the saints than listen to another word she says.
There’s movement at the edge of the forest, but it’s Erik. He carries a wooden bowl.
I experience a moment of concern that Galeia isn’t with him, but he wouldn’t leave her unless she was safe.
Dusana’s shoulders sink at the sight of Erik. She must be estimating her chances of leaving here alive and, judging from her resigned exhalation, have now gauged them to be very low.
I asked her how she intended to leave and now she replies. “I guess I won’t be leaving after all.”
“Why did Queen Karasi chooseyouas her messenger? Why not Elowynn?”
Now, Dusana flinches. She edges backward, shuffling on her knees, even though that only takes her closer to Catalina and her ominous, metal-gloved hand. “I can’t… I’m not allowed…”
I wish I could force her to tell the truth. But my power is in transformation. I can create something from something else.
I don’t have the power of compulsion.
