Black eyes shift from me to Gaellar. “I have nothing better to do.”
Gaellar dips her head. “It would be much appreciated by all.”
The camp is unnerved after another attack by a wyvern, a dozen bodies—soldiers and horses—strewn like debris across the rugged dirt. And yet a cheer sounds in the night, followed moments later by more. Soon, an entire chorus erupts, the energy swelling.
I smile.
This is how we fight against the Nulling and Malachi.
United.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
AGATHA
The sun is rising when our caravan of wagons reaches the caster pavilion, the trek through the thousands of Ybarisans slow and tedious.
I ease myself down the steps, my limbs aching in protest. Aside from a few short breaks when we watered the horses and relieved ourselves, the wagons have rolled night and day, their occupants sleeping where they sat. If Queen Neilina were wise, she would have had us leave days earlier, but she has no interest in prolonged travel, and her jeweled carriage has all the comforts.
I look up into the clear blue sky. “Not much time to spare is there.” Even now, one can see the faint outline of Hudem’s moon. It will intensify with each passing hour until it hangs so low and shines so bright, nothing can hide, the shadows non-existent.
“I have never seen so many people.” Baedriya, the soft-spoken messenger who lent her support, says, her dark gaze raking over the sea of tents housing the poor souls who prepare to die for their treacherous queen. “I did not think there were this many in all of Ybaris.”
“I fear there will be far fewer when the sun rises at dawn.” Queen Neilina has promised them easy passage behind Mordain. Many of them likely believe they will walk across the rift’s pass and be handed land.
I lean down to test the patch of new grass sprouting beneath my feet. There are countless more poking through the dirt. Trampled beneath feet, but unmistakable. Nothing has grown here for two millennia and yet now there are hints of new life?
Would this have anything to do with the changes I fear are coming?
“Do you think if people knew that Her Highness summoned the fates, they would follow her?” Baedriya asks.
“People believe what they want to believe, even when the truth is laid bare, unfiltered and undeniable, before them.” Lorel is not an evil caster, nor is she blind, but she chooses the path that ensures her position as Prime. She likely figures any hidden truths won’t change the outcome. Maybe she’s right. I could stand on the top of this wagon and shout them for all to hear, and all it would earn me is an arrow through my gullet.
The Shadows approach, riding two by two in a straight line, their identities concealed behind their fearsome-looking black armor. But I know Solange leads the escort with the queen and the elementals. She may not approve of our part in this war with Islor, but she also knows she has no choice but to follow orders. We are all pawns in Queen Neilina’s game, and she will replace us as necessary.
The royal carriage slows, its frame winking with countless gems that mirror the castle towers. Neilina never leaves Argon without both the army led by Commander Tiberius and the Shadows. She rarely leaves Argon period, preferring the comforts of her pampered life rather than seeing how her people suffer.
“You should run along and find Master Barra. I’m sure he has a task for you.” I add as an afterthought. “May the fates be with you until dawn.”
“And you as well.” Baedriya bows and darts off.
The carriage door opens and Queen Neilina herself steps out, Aoife’s token necklace a statement with its splendor. She has replaced her gold gown with one made of both gold and silver, perhaps a nod to Vin’nyla as she prepares to watch the battle unfold. I can guess without being told that she has no plans of joining, only claiming victory.
Behind her, Cressida steps out, her doe eyes wide and fearful.
My anger boils. That blasted royal demon. Can she be any more blatant with her scheming, keeping the innocent, collarless caster glued to her hip in case she must summon a fate?
The queen’s gaze veers in my direction, and I duck behind our wagon, out of sight. Surely, she would question my presence if she saw me, and questioning done by her never ends well for anyone. I must do a better job of hiding until I can get across.
“Master Scribe!”
I jump at the husky voice and spin around to meet Solange’s penetrating glare.
The Second towers over me. “I thought I saw you among the fray but couldn’t make sense of it. What possible reason does an old scribe have for joining a war?”