A sign of conquest.
A declaration of victory.
“They attacked a sleeping camp like cowards.”
Here and there, soldiers wander, searching for dying combatants they can end suffering for and loot they can plunder. Some have noticed us and are sharing looks and shouts among one another.
“Your Highness, we must leave and gather reinforcements,” Kazimir warns.
What reinforcements? They’re all at the rift! But he’s right, we can’t stay here. “We ride back to Cirilea now.” My voice sounds hollow as I give the command.
As one we turn our horses.
Three separate groups close in on us from various directions, fanning out. Where they were hiding, I cannot say. In the thicket and behind the hills, perhaps.
Hiding.
Or waiting for Islor’s king to arrive.
Kazimir shares a somber look with me. “We cannot outride them.” They are nearly all Kierish soldiers. Fierce mortals but mortals, nonetheless. There are at least two hundred of them to our twenty.
“No, we cannot.” I draw my sword and everyone follows suit. I look up at Hudem’s moon one last time. I suppose I will not get the chance to know whether Romeria told the truth or yet another lie.
But at least I will not have to endure the pain of losing Gracen.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
ROMERIA
Thousands of soldiers stand in a grid formation, their knuckles white around hilts and handles and bows, their nervous gazes locked on the brilliant second moon above as it moves inch by inch, minute by minute, to the height of its power.
It’s close now, and the energy that vibrates within this camp is electric.
No one knows what to expect. Will it be as bad as the bedtime stories of King Ailill’s folly? Worse?
Bonfires blaze every twenty feet, fire readily available for arrows and for Zander, and to repel the Nulling creatures who naturally shy away. The saplings stand in their own clustered arrangement, the moon’s reflection gleaming off their black eyes. Perhaps no one is as impatient to see the end of this blood curse as they are.
While I was soaring high with Caindra—Bexley!—Zander stood on top of a wagon and revealed what tonight’s Hudem moon would bring, the good and the bad. But not the doom of Malachi. There is only so much truth people can handle at one time. In that, he and I agree.
“It is almost at its full strength,” Zander says beside me.
My anxiety is a tangled mess. Now that we’ve told everyone about the end of the blood curse, I fear Lucretia has lied to me. But we will all know one way or the other very soon.
Jarek scowls at Caindra, perched on top of Islor’s stone wall. “What exactly is it she said she was going to do?”
I tip my head back to regard her. She looks like the world’s largest gargoyle. “Steer the worst of them away.”
“But how?”
“By being herself. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“The stairs are right there.” Elisaf points toward the entrance at the bottom. “Why don’t you go and ask her?”
“Because she can’t answer. And she’ll throw me off,” Jarek grumbles.
My old night guard scratches his chin in mock thought. “I wonder why that is?”
I smile. “Glad to see you two can cut each other up even when the world is about to go to shit.”
“If Caindra can deal with the wyverns, we can deal with the rest.” Zander regards her with a curious frown. “I always knew there was something about Bexley.”
“Nice try. You had no idea.” I’m still struggling to believe it, and I watched her morph between forms.
Zander grips my nape with cool fingers. “Fine. But I’ll admit, she was scary even as an Islorian brothel owner.”
“She wouldn’t even fit into the Goat’s Knoll like this.” I wonder what will happen to that place, now that she has had to say her goodbyes. Obviously, Zander will march back and reclaim Cirilea once we’re done here. And then he and I can figure out how to clean up this mess Neilina made while preparing for Malachi. But we have Mordain and Ybaris and at least half of Islor behind us now. Plus Caindra, I remind myself. And the nymphs.
For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling hopeful. We can do this.
We must.
Caindra’s roar fills the night sky.
“That’s it.” Zander peers up at the silver moon, so bright it’s nearly blinding and so low, I think Caindra could fly me up to touch it. “It’s at its peak strength.”
I grip Zander’s forearm. “Do you feel different? Do you feel the same change as within Ulysede?” My voice is urgent. I have to know this wasn’t all for nothing.