A wet, gray fog floated in from the Crimson Sea, and I blinked against the bright land cloud as I searched for whichever Bellator arrived. A blast of wind blew my loose hair around my face, and I turned, reaching for Isla’s arm as massive, white and red wings stretched open before us.
Crimson smears soaked the snow hawk’s wings, and it landed in the soft grass, her talons ripping deep lines into the mud as she caught her footing. A blood-soaked female elf hopped off the back of the hawk. Her torn blue traveling dress swished as she strode toward us.
Wisps of her white-blonde hair flitted out of the disheveled, ornate braid on top of her head, and her face sagged in exhaustion as her crystal blue eyes found mine.
“Drystan,” she signed my name as she strode forward. “I am Selvina.”
She nodded to Isla in greeting, and her thin lips pursed.
“What are you doing here?” Isla asked, her eyes wide.
“We’ve surrendered the gate on Kayj. Creatures are pouring into the realm. I need to speak with Lyvia. Ganmira and Renova are coming for her.”
“We know,” Isla responded. “We just came from Lotrennia.”
Selvina clamped her lips shut as her shoulders sagged, and she looked to Nishanth.
“So, you know Carina is dead.”
She swallowed as she spoke the last word, and a dry lump formed in my throat at the stab of fresh grief. Carina had been a fellow scholar, had lent her knowledge to me, had stood against warriors, and, like myself, had become one herself in her aid of the Rising. Emotions rushed forward upon hearing the news a second time.
“Yes,” Isla confirmed, scanning the blood covering the elf. “I’m sorry you came all this way. Are you all right?”
Selvina nodded grimly. “Yes,” she replied, continuing to sign, “Not ours. We flew over a handful of Lord Pavel’s ships being attacked by several skydrakes.”
I blinked.
“How do you know Lord Pavel?” I cut in, my brows narrowed.
“I’ve been in communication with the Sultiran lord for years,” she replied, her hand movements swift and practiced. “The Sea Spear took over for the Black Horse when he died at the Crystal Castle.”
My mind spun. Lyvia’s father had been close with Jon Pavel, and the lord of Khasimir apparently knew more than he ever let on.
“The skydrakes?” Isla cut in.
“Two slipped our grasp, but we killed the rest and healed the sailors who weren’t already dead. Pavel sails for Votruvia.”
I nodded as Isla turned toward me.
“You need to bring Lyvia and Kellan back,” she murmured, and with that, I disappeared into time and space.
The sittingroom at Eghan House had become crowded with people and emotion. The velvet chairs lining the small table in the center had filled with people, their mouths moving quickly. Mother Eghan handed me a mug, and I took a long sip of peppermint tea, its soothing scent filling my lungs. This was one of the few moments I saw my deafness as a gift, the endless chatter across the room clearly putting others on edge.
Lyvia paced before the ornate fireplace, its onyx stone carved into the large claws of some beast, the flames flickering softly. Her pointed ears poked out from beneath her loose hair, and I caught her touching them more than once, as if the noise in the room were too much for her heightened sense to handle.
Kellan stood at the opposite end of the room in deep discussion with Raek and Ezrich, presumably regarding the múritinne rings, as I caught Raek mouthing the word, but the pirate lord’s eyes were on Lyvia.
Bayne’s dark brows furrowed as he spoke softly with Selvina, the Nivis elf now donning a fashionable day dress with her clean hair wrapped in a bun. The king of Lotrennia stood with his arms crossed, and I thought if I looked close enough, I might glimpsethe white flame in his eyes. Power emanated from the king. My brows furrowed as I realized the only Bellator missing in this room was Nerissa.
The room stilled as the wide doors swung open, and a familiar face filled the space. Lord Pavel strode into the grand sitting room. His clothes were disheveled and bloody. He paused, and his eyes landed on Lyvia and Selvina before darting to me. A flood of memories at Cantor Manor rushed forward, and I shared a quick look with Lyvia. The aged soldier heaved a breath. A raw sort of emotion tightened the features of his weathered face, and he bent down to one knee.
I stood as Lyvia rushed forward, her hands reaching for his. Lyvia pulled him upright, and he straightened as I reached him.
“We have a war to prepare for, Bellators.”
The atmosphere in the room tightened as everyone directed focused attention at the aged soldier. After brief introductions, the conversation quickly turned to strategy… To rubellines and múritinne rings.
“How many and how quickly can you make them?” Lord Pavel asked, turning toward Isla.
