“No news from Andraya and Pouly,” Tori confirms. “I site-hopped into the village yesterday, and they didn’t have an update.”
“Meer is a good distance from the Plithian Plains. If they want to be inconspicuous, it might take them longer than usual to find out anything,” I put into consideration. “Perhaps as long as it will take for Erina’s army to gather.”
“Which would decide the outcome of this war before we’ve even lifted a blade, no thanks.” Silas leans his hips against the table, studying the array of streets and terrains on the map. “The rebels are a spy network passing on information through the realm for decades. They have established channels and trusted men on the inside. They’ll be quick.”
Royad stops his pacing, brow lifted so high the scar on his cheek is tugging the end of it down. “When did you turn into an optimist?”
Herinor clears his throat, pointing at the broadest road running north from Meer. “If I were Erina, I’d avoid the main roads. Even if it took me a few days longer, I’d sneak my ammunition through the backlands where no one bothers with what’s on the wagon and where I could quickly hide it in the wilderness.”
He’s right. And he probably knows more about Erina’s and Ephegos’s strategies than any other person in this room.
“There are a thousand little paths leading through the plains,” Clio complains. “Even if we know which one, they might just go cross country the moment they realize someone is tailing them.”
Recienne nods, sitting down at the head of the table. He picks up an apple from the bowl holding down the corner of the map and bites into it with sharp, white teeth.
The room is silent except for his chewing while I count my own heartbeats. Royad continues to stare out the window, no longer pacing, back turned toward us. Kaira studies the map, and Herinor studies Kaira. Silas silently taps his finger against the edge of the table, stopping when Clio cuts him a glance, and Myron is the calm before the storm, sitting so quietly only the rising and falling of his chest informs me he’s still breathing. It seems to have become his new go-to strategy for dealing with uncertain situations.
Recienne swallows, makes the apple core vanish with a flick of his fingers, and laces his fingers together at the edgeof the table. “It seems there is nothing we can do for now but wait.”
Why his words make me want to dive out of my skin is beyond me. Perhaps because I’ve never been a patient creature, but with the premise of Erina coming for us, I’m near ready to pick up the next best blade and hack my way across the lands to make him meet his end.
“What about Ephegos?” Myron’s voice rumbles through the room, stopping everyone where they are.
Recienne cocks his head at him.
“We haven’t seen or heard from him since Ayna fled the palace. He’s practically disappeared from the map. What we know of is Erina. The Flames seem to be working with the Tavrasian king directly. Even the Crows, if their presence at the Flame estate is anything to go by.”
Icy cold slides down my back. I hadn’t thought of that. In all these weeks, I’ve been so focused on the immediate dangers that I’d not once questioned Ephegos’s involvement in this war.
“Erina projected to the Flame estate, not Ephegos,” Herinor points out as if that was evidence. “Projecting is not a skill known to be achieved by Crows.”
“Or by Flames,” Kaira throws in when all eyes turn to her.
“Fairies don’t do it either. We site-hop if we have the ability. But Projection?” Clio muses, earning a long look from her brother.
Herinor clears his throat. “Erina has been experimenting with magical blood so much; I wouldn’t be surprised if he has more tricks up his sleeves than we can imagine.However he did it, Erina was there as projection, not Ephegos. If Ephegos could do it, he wouldn’t have let anyone take away the opportunity for causing you and Myron pain.”
Stomach sinking, I try to remember the last time I saw the Crow traitor at Erina’s palace. That was a few days before my escape, when he stopped injecting me with the drug himself, handing off the task to his guards.
I can’t even tell when was the last time I saw him at court.
“He’s planning something bigger.”
All eyes land on me, so I force my sore body into submission and sit up, bracing my forearms on the table. The twinge of pain in my shoulders should be enough to bring human Ayna to her knees, but I’m Crow Ayna, and fae strength flares as I summon it, propping myself up against my own power.
“Hewants to be King of Crows. He wants to establish a new Crow Kingdom. He said so himself. And he also believes he has a claim to the Flame throne. He doesn’t care much for Erina’s place in this war. The King of Tavras is a means to an end.”
“End of what?” Kaira blinks at me, brown eyes big and round.
“The end of everything that is good in this realm.”
“That fucker reallyisthe worst of them all.” I’m not surprised Silas agrees. He’s the first to go for a good conspiracy theory, but Herinor’s nod of approval is a bit disconcerting. We’ve been rolling this over in words and thoughts, looking at it from every angle, but the only way to stop him is to stop Erina, so it doesn’tchange anything.
We still need to destroy the magic-nullifying weapon. If it were that easy, we could have worked on an antidote, but Erina has a head start, and the cargo is on its way. We still need an army big enough to meet Erina’s forces, magical or no. And we still need the rebels’ help, or we’ll never know where to strike to take Erina’s most valuable asset.
Outside, dawn has broken, stealing the shadows of the night, and my exhaustion has turned into a numbness spreading from the muscles lining my spine all the way to the tips of my fingers.
I’m ready to collapse into bed, but the staircase is in my way when we slowly make our way out the door toward our rooms.