Page 229 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Everything?” Solange’s eyebrows arch. “By tomorrow?”

“Until we run out of time.”

“This reminds me of that day the princess fought a nethertaur after a two-hour lesson on how to not stab herself,” Abarrane muses.

“I killed it, didn’t I?” Romeria scoffs.

“No, I killed it. You stopped it.”

“Right.” Romeria dismisses the surly legionary. “So?”

Solange smirks. “I do not know how to fight a fate. No one has ever fought one and lived to tell the story. But I can teach you how to fight a powerful caster.”

“Perfect, because I’m pretty sure Sofie is going to be really pissed off after that.” Romeria squeezes my hand. “Give me a few hours and then we can fly to Eldred Wood to get an update from Atticus.” They disappear behind Lyndel’s gate, her ever-present legionary a shadow, and the sylx his.

“How did it look out there?’ Elisaf asks.

My shoulders sink with dread. “If you have been sitting on regrets and wishes, I would settle them tonight.” Anyone counting on us to lead them to victory will soon learn how fatal that hope is.

“That bad, then.”

“Yes, that bad.” We are thoroughly fucked.

72

Atticus

“The famed Eldred Wood.” King Cheral canters to my side as he sizes up the forest ahead. “It looks peaceful.”

“It is vast, stretching far south, almost to Cirilea. A great place for Nulling beasts to hide.” I imagine there are plenty in there now with the rift’s opening.

“Ybarisans and Mordain’s casters now too.”

“And soon, the Kiers. These are strange times, indeed.”

He peers at the men. “We could not have reached this soon enough. The army has ridden hard and needs a rest.”

We will all get plenty after tomorrow when we are dead, I refrain from saying. That’s not the right attitude for heading into battle, no matter how hopeless. “Let us get to it then.” Hazarding a glance up at the sky to note the late afternoon position of the sun, I nudge my horse with my heels and pick up the pace.

“And here I was, jealous of my brother for having a fortress to hide behind,” I jest, and yet the lengthy stone portico that travels along the tree line is jaw-dropping. The casters had only days to work with, and they built a wall and tower worthy of a kingdom, soaring high into the air and facing west toward Lyndel.

“No wonder Queen Neilina hoarded these casters for so long,” King Cheral muses, his eyes lit with amazement.

“To be fair, Mordain wanted nothing to do with Malachi’s demons either.” Save for a few, like Wendeline. I wonder if the caster still lives.

Ybarisan soldiers line the rampart, watching our army approach. “Announce yourselves!” one of them yells.

“Really?” As if they aren’t expecting us. “King Cheral of Kier, and Prince Atticus, commander of the king’s army and once ruler of Islor! Where do we enter?” There is nothing but a solid wall in front of us, as far as the eye can see.

Stones grind and a large opening appears, earning gasps of astonishment from behind us.

A familiar figure stands in the center of it, a grin plastered across his bearded face. “What do you mean, where?”

I charge forward on my horse, leaping off at the last minute to collide in an embrace with Kazimir. “I heard you survived, you lucky bastard.”

“Thanks to your brother and Serenis’s remarkable healing abilities. She is talented.” He gestures to a pretty female standing nearby, sparing her a wink.

Her face flushes with her demure smile.

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