Page 77 of An Archer's Reckoning

“Ranger?” Vre usurped the Arch Mage’s traditional role as leader of discussions. “Tell us your news. We have no time to waste—and what in the holy fuck are you wearing? We should have you stripped and flogged right here.”

I squared with the General.

As I spoke, the tunic responded, its gilded hue pulsing as if angered.

“Grove’s Pass has been destroyed. The Rangers are gone.All of them.”

Vre blinked, then leaned forward.

Guildmaster Burner spoke first. “What do you mean byall theRangers?”

“Any Rangers posted in towns east of the mountains . . . they are all that remain of our force. The headquarters is rubble atop a grave.”

I stepped toward Vre, stopping at the edge of the Eye. “Kingdom soldiers and Mages hold the pass. At least fifty thousand men were camped across the border recently. I expect they have marched since I saw them last.”

“Fifty thousand?” Vre sat back.

“With more arriving each day . . . plus siege engines and horses.”

“When you say, ‘destroyed,’ what do you mean?” Burner asked. “The Ranger headquarters was built by Mages . . . using magic . . . surely—”

“There isnothingleft, Guildmaster.” I turned to face him. “Not a single person lives. Only a half dozen houses in the town remain. Grove’s Pass is little more than ashes.”

“I knew they were planningsomething,” Burner muttered. “I warned Whitman. But . . . to wipe a whole town off the map? To not even take it to use for your own men? Why do such a thing?”

Quin leaned forward. “I believe someone seeks our attention.”

“By killing our entire border force?All theRangers?” Vre looked up, dismayed. “I talked to a boy, a messenger Whitman sent with a report of scouts in the woods, but I never dreamed something like this could happen.”

Silence loomed as the men grappled with what they’d just learned. Melucia’s most important defensive position—the bottleneck to stop any incursion—and over a thousand Rangers . . . gone.

The Arch Mage broke the stillness as he began piecing things together, his voice trembling. “You are Declan Rea? Brother of Guard-Lieutenant Keelan Rea?”

I nodded. “I am.”

“Did Mage Dani deliver my . . .instructions? Did you perform as requested?” Quin asked meaningfully.

“He did, and I did.”

Vre and Burner shared confounded looks. Vre started to ask, “Quin, what’s this—”

“And?” Quin stood and braced himself on the arms of his chair, anticipation exploding from him. “Boy, tell me what happened. What of the Keeper? What of aid?”

I tossed back my cloak, and the Phoenix on my tunic flared brightly at Quin’s challenge. My eyes steeled. “The Keeper is well and sent aid. I am pleased to introduce Órlaith, the Daughter of Magic.”

I raised my arm and looked to the owl for the first time since entering.

On cue, Órla flapped from my arm to rest on the rim of Quin’s chair back. Her aura raged, mirroring the intensity of my tunic.

Órla’s voice held rich, smoky notes and echoed through the stone hall. “And may I introduce Declan Rea, no longer a simple Ranger of Melucia, nowHeir of Magic—our best hope for survival in the war to come.”

Vre and Burner shot to their feet, their jaws agape.

Burner dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“Get up, Ceryl,” Vre chided.

Burner rose, eyes wide. “The owlspoke. Did you not hear that? And . . . she’s . . . she’s glowing!”

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