Page 39 of Heart of the Shadow King

“Who knows what that mad fae bastard wants?” Larongar growls. “Destruction and mayhem and hell on earth. Perhaps he thinks he can cripple my mages if he destroys their writings.”

“Can he?”

“Quite possibly. Wistari claims there are a great many spells contained within those tomes, some of them dating back to ages before the Miphates Order was established. There are copies at other strongholds, of course, but nothing matches the power of the original spell.” Larongar heaves a great sigh. “All I know for sure is that Ruvaen has focused the majority of his force on this assault. I’ve lost a lot of men trying to meet them in battle.”

I frown. “Is the citadel difficult to access?”

“Now there’s an understatement!” Larongar tosses back his head, uttering a big bray of a laugh. He’s led me a good twenty paces away from the gate and now, applying pressure with one hand, turns me to look back at it. Lur and Wrag stand on either side of the arch, their faces carved from marble. Like me, they feel the horror of the open plain and endless sky. It is testimony to their courage that they stand so still.

“See there?” Larongar says, indicating the gate.

I nod.

“Not the gate itself. What’s through it.”

I frown and peer beneath the arch. Just now there is no ripple of the veils between worlds. All is still, affording a clear view of the landscape beyond. A stark landscape which, to my trolde eyes, appears very like the one in which we now stand.

“That,” Larongar says, “is the way to the Kingdom of Cruor.”

The name is familiar to me, though I cannot immediately place it. I wait for the king to continue.

“It wasn’t long ago,” he says, “that a whole nation of you fae folk dwelt just on the far side of that wall. Not full-blooded fae, of course. These wereibrildians.Half-breeds. The offspring of invaders who ravaged our villages and left their seed in the wombs of our women. Many of the creatures born from such unholy unions were killed at birth, but some women proved too tenderhearted for their own good. Thus, many a bastard survived. And then more and more, propagating their kind. This was all long ago by the history of our world. Second Age stuff, though I’m no historian.”

The ledge of his brow deepens over his empty eye socket. “What I do know is they had the gall to make themselves into a nation. A whole bloody kingdom ofibrildianhalf-breeds. And they plopped it down right there, just on the far side of that gate.” He turns his head, glancing up at me with his one red-rimmed eye. “It’s gone now. The kingdom, such as it was. We took care of that a while back. Can’t leave the tumor to fester, eh?” He grimaces then and returns his gaze to the land beyond the gate. “But after the dust settled, things went . . . a little strange over there.”

“Strange how?”

“Hard to describe. Something you have to experience for yourself.” Larongar shrugs. “Suffice it to say, humans don’t last long in Cruor. Miphates come and go well enough; they have their little ways. But it takes magic to navigate on the far side of that gate. Ordinary men such as I don’t stand a chance.”

I frown. “If that’s the case, why build a citadel?”

“Oh, that was done long before the fall of Cruor. There was a time our people and theirs were allies. Kings of old thought it best to befriend the wolf on the doorstep. And thoseibrildianshad methods of accessing magic that were mighty tempting to the Miphates, or so Wistari tells me.”

“So, your mages have maintained their citadel on the other side all this time. And now Ruvaen wants to take it.”

“He bloody well wants to level it,” Larongar growls. “He’s not had much luck as of yet; the mages are not without their defenses. But they’re running through spells quickly. They need reinforcements before their wall is breached. That’s where you come in.” He turns that leer of his up to me, revealing every one of his sharp yellow teeth. “Your troll boys with their tough hides and monster steeds will no doubt stroll right through Cruor. You’ll turn up at Evisar fresh as daisies and ready to brawl.”

I’m not entirely certain what daisies are. They don’t sound like brawlers. I fold my arms and take a step away from Larongar. “You will send Miphates to guide our way.”

“Of course!” Larongar replies. “There are outposts between here and Evisar as well. Your people can make the journey in stretches and have a chance to . . . recover.”

Recover from what? What is he not telling me? I study his face, but it gives me nothing. It’s possible he doesn’t know, that whatever terrors lie on the other side of that arch are beyond his comprehension. I don’t like it. While I doubt any half-breed faeare a match for myortolarok,I don’t care to march into enemy territory without complete information.

My throat tightens. Even at that slight hesitancy, the power of the written agreement threatens to strangle me. I cannot deny Larongar aid. “I will need to speak to your Mage Wistari,” I say. “After that, the morleth riders will venture into this land of Cruor, march upon your citadel, and put Ruvaen to flight. And then”—I turn to face Larongar, holding his one-eyed gaze—“you will send your Miphates to aid the Under Realm.”

“Can you doubt it, my boy?” Larongar smiles. “You rid me of this fae pestilence, and I handle your little problem. We have an agreement.”

I stare into the eye of this man, this liar, refusing to back down. But he knows the stranglehold he has on me. I could reach out with one arm, snap his neck without a second thought. Yet it is he who issues the commands.

“Lur!” I bark. “Bring word to Lady Parh. Theortolarokare to begin the crossing. They will assemble on the field here and be prepared to ride at nightfall.”

17

FARAINE

“Meet me at the Urzulhar Circle twodimnessfrom now. Your training will begin then.”

The words echo in my head over and over.

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