Page 68 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

I falter. That caster with the silver eyes. I’d never seen her face before. Could she have been kept hidden from Ybaris? From Mordain?

“You really have no idea what is happening in your realm.” I note a hint of sympathy in King Cheral’s tone, even as he mocks me.

I could come up with a quippy answer, but for once I’d prefer the truth. “Care to enlighten me then, since you seem to be all knowing?”

He stands, smoothing a hand over the shoulder of the wife on his right—a stunning brunette and the oldest by appearance. His first wife, if I had to guess. “One of the problems I have with your kind is your arrogance.” He rounds the cluster of chairs and moves across the room, toward a golden pedestal. “You believe yourselves above all, taking what you wish from anyone, be it a royal or a slave. Even as a king, you made no effort to educate yourself beyond your own borders. Tuella’s homeland of Udrel is a … what did you call it? A fairy tale? No, it was a fable.”

It’s good to know our conversations are repeated, word for word. Did Satoria explain to her husband how long she stared at my cock?

“All must cower before the great and formidable Islorian ruling class.” He embellishes his words with a theatrical bow, followed by a sneer. “You are but specks like the rest of us, bending and breaking to a higher power’s will.” He beckons me forward with a waggle of his fingers, as if I’m a slave.

My fists ball at my sides. Funny, one of the problems with this mortal king is also his arrogance—specifically, ignoring the reality that I could snap his neck long before his guards reach us. But saying that out loud will likely earn me a fight I don’t know that I can win, injured as I am. Besides, I can sense the energy radiating from across the room. Whatever King Cheral wants to show me, it excites him.

I take my time joining him. “My mother had a birdbath much like this. She spent hours watching the warblers cool off in the hot summer months.” This one has a pool of water, too, but it’s twice the size and in its center sits an opaque white sphere.

“A gift from my temple.” Tuella is suddenly beside me, startling me with her soundless approach.

“I have seen a similar stone before.” It reminds me of the dull gem within the ring Zander gave to Romeria as a symbol of their betrothal, though much larger. I’ll admit, my curiosity is piqued. “I assume it is more than decoration in this case. What is its purpose?”

She rests her palm against it. “We call this a seeing stone.”

“Because you see things through it?”

Tuella smiles as if she was waiting for me to ask and then closes her eyes and mutters unintelligible words. When they reopen, her black irises and pupils have vanished, leaving an opaque white in their place. The tattooed script across her forehead glows.

“It is something, isn’t it?” King Cheral whispers, drawing my attention from the conjurer’s peculiar appearance to the pool of water that now reflects an image—of Islorian soldiers building bonfires and fixing tents. “This is Islor’s rift army.”

I gape at the view. “How is this possible?”

“Through the eyes of a kell. A tiny, unobtrusive bird that goes mostly unnoticed but sees all.”

I’m glued to the image reflected in the water as the kell swoops in, speeding past a dead nethertaur, to a group on horseback. I know them all. Elisaf is there, along with several legionaries, and—

“Stop! Go back!”

But the bird is moving on.

“It will take her a moment. It is not so simple,” King Cheral says, patting the air. “These kells can be wayward.”

The image in the small pool wavers before expanding. The bird is climbing, giving us a panoramic view—of the thousands of soldiers and countless corpses, both beast and Islorian, and the odd golden-crested armor that I do not recognize as Islorian. Far in the distance, on the Ybarisan side, waits another army. Queen Neilina brought her armies to attack on Hudem, after all. Did they battle?

I gasp as three great beasts of scales and wings appear, perched atop the bridge’s stone walls. “Fates, what are those?”

“Ancient creatures of another age, according to Tuella,” King Cheral whispers, as if not wanting to disturb her concentration. “It seems they are allied with your realm. They’ve even been seen shuttling Islorians from one place to the next.”

What else has Zander been hiding from me? From this vantage point, high up in the sky, I begin to grasp just how many Nulling creatures litter the ground. There were obviously far more hiding than we ever imagined. “What drew them out of Venhorn to attack?”

King Cheral peers up at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. “They did not come from the mountains. They came from that gaping crack in the ground.”

“That is impossible. That would mean the Nulling has been opened, which would mean …” My words drift. It would mean a key caster opened the nymphaeum door. Likely the same one who saved my life. “Have you seen this key caster? Do you know who she is?”

His smile is reserved. “We have. And we do.”

The bird finally loops back around and dives toward the company as it moves past the stone gate, onto the bridge. “Where are they going?”

“To the Ybarisan side, I presume.”

The kell follows, feigning interest in a horse while giving me a clear view of their faces—Zander and Romeria riding side by side. She is as beautiful as ever, dressed in the leathers of war, Jarek and Abarrane at their flank.

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