Page 181 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

I wipe a thumb across my cheek and find dust on it. “Sort of.” I give him the quick rundown of what happened in the mine.

He scratches his chin in wonder. “To be a fly on the wall when Malachi and this key caster realize what you’ve done.”

He will be furious. “I’m not sure how many have gotten through already, but at least no more will flood through there, right?”

Abarrane throws back the tent flap and charges in. Jarek is behind her, barely treating me with so much as a glance. His mood was sour when we landed, and it turned icy the moment he heard about the daaknar. “Your Highness. This just arrived.” She holds up a letter.

“From whom?”

“I do not recognize the seal.” She hands it to Zander.

“Kier.” His eyes dart to me before he snaps it open. And exhales. “This is Atticus’s handwriting.”

Abarrane barks with laughter. “See? That silver-tongued fool goes from captured to writing letters.”

Chuckles fill the tent as everyone waits to hear what the treasonous brother-king has to say.

“Fates.” All blood drains from Zander’s face. “Theon, when did you last receive word from Bellcross?”

48

Atticus

I inhale Islor’s crisp country air, free of the brine that clings to the coast.

“How does it feel to ride a horse across your own land again?” King Cheral canters beside me, a modest cloak draped over his finery to hide his station as our group of twenty moves inland along the Sanguine River like common raiders. Given the new king in place and the potential of blades aimed upon our arrival, we avoided the trading port east of Kettling and chose the narrower, quieter gulf on the west side, coming ashore in the night.

“I would prefer my own horse, though I imagine it did not survive the battle. Unless your conjurer can resurrect him?” I lean forward to find Tuella, who rides stiffly on King Cheral’s other side. It reminds me of Romeria’s early days on horseback. Clearly, she doesn’t spend much time in the saddle.

“The light cannot reach beyond the realm of the living, usurper king,” she says.

“And what can it do?”

“Fight the shadow.”

“Still with that.” I roll my shoulder to test it. Nearly healed. I can’t imagine the gnarly scar that merth ax left behind. “And what am I to fight with? My winning personality?”

King Cheral’s laughter is jovial. “It has done you well so far.”

“You will have to allow me a weapon soon enough.”

“Have I not already? I gave you a quill and ink after all, did I not?”

“And hovered over my shoulder, dictating my every word.”

He shrugs. “I had to make sure you did not layer a secret message within.”

“And what would that be? ‘Please, do not kill me, Dear Brother, though I probably deserve it’?” Would the letter have reached Zander by now? Likely. And, if he hasn’t seen the colossal danger heading his way, he will very soon.

“Trust is earned, not granted, especially not to an enemy.”

You trusted me well enough alone with your wife. I bite my tongue, stealing a glance behind us. Satoria rides easily, a secretive smile on her lips as she takes in the rolling hills leading to Aminadav’s plains ahead. There’s no woodenness in her form.

“The cabin on the ship was a nice touch.” I waited for Satoria to slink in, even just for the few minutes of company, but she never did.

“I thought it better than being chained in the hull,” King Cheral says.

“Oh, I don’t know. I do miss the delightful company I had on the way to Ostros.”

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