Page 70 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

Tuella—and the kell—obliges, soaring closer, until it settles on the terrace wall, mere feet from the male, allowing me a good view of his dark hair and hard features. He stands regal—in my clothes, nonetheless—as he overlooks the grounds.

As if he is meant to be there.

My fists clench as my chest burns with fury at this pretender who has stolen from my family, who has claimed what does not belong to him by any stretch. “I’ve never seen this male before in my life.”

Cold, brown eyes reflect in the water as the male notices the bird. He crooks his head as if studying it and then holds out his hand and makes a clucking sound. The kell hops over, accepting the upturned palm.

A slow smile stretches across this King Malachi’s lips as he lifts the bird to eye level. “A favorite of the Udrelians, I believe.” His voice is deep and smooth. “Who has come to spy on me, little bird? A king from Kier, perhaps?”

“How does he know?” King Cheral whispers. “How can he tell—”

Suddenly, the image in the pool erupts in flames before vanishing altogether.

Tuella gasps as if coming up for air after being underwater for too long. Her black eyes have returned and in them, I see a mixture of relief and fear.

“What happened?” I wait impatiently for her to catch her breath.

“How did he know we were watching?” King Cheral pushes.

A bead of sweat trickles down her forehead. “There is great power in him.”

“Elven?”

She shakes her head. “He is a creator of the flame.”

“You mean a caster.” Islor has been seized by a powerful male caster who calls himself King Malachi. My brother is also powerful in wielding the flame—but not creating it.

Tuella meets King Cheral’s gaze but doesn’t respond. I suspect there is more to it than that, but she won’t share while I’m here.

His steps are slow and methodical as he strolls around the birdbath. “It seems your realm has quite the obstacle to overcome.”

I chuckle, though nothing I’ve learned warrants humor. “Please tell me you are not foolish enough to believe this problem ends at a border. If the rift is truly open, no one is safe.”

“Plenty for them to occupy themselves with in your realm.” But he frowns as if he doesn’t buy his own words.

“And that?” I point to his pocket where he slid the letter. “That alone should be a warning of this king’s intentions.”

“With the rift open, this King Malachi does not have time to attempt to conquer Kier.”

“Maybe you’re right. Tell me, how many of your soldiers remain in Islor, waiting for instruction on how to proceed?” Bexley warned of a vast Kier army. There is no way they’ve abandoned their cause, especially not with a realm in turmoil.

Cheral’s lips purse, answering my question whether he means to or not.

I hum. “Sounds like your men will be occupied too. Wait until they meet a hag.”

“I had hoped your brother would reclaim the throne. There could have been a negotiation for your release. Now, I do not see the value in keeping you alive.” He says this, but he watches me closely, and I sense a challenge behind his words. Give me a reason to keep you alive.

“This impostor may wear the crown today, but I can assure you, it won’t be long before my brother comes to reclaim it.”

“Tuella just confirmed, King Malachi is powerful.”

“My brother is powerful.” Far more than even I realized. “And he has a key caster by his side, by your own admission, one who now wields the power of Ybaris and Mordain and this secret Ulysede and those scaly winged beasts. And frankly, fates know who or what else.” Who has Romeria won over with her charm? The clearer the picture I paint, the more I begin to believe it.

Zander and Romeria will take back Islor.

And the realm will be the better for it.

“You stole his crown from him. I can’t imagine he wants anything from you but your death.”

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