Page 59 of Echoes of War

“Alexiares,” I warned, a headache still pulling at the tendrils of my mind.

“Whatever.” He bit out, “We don’t need them. We hold all three remaining settlements in Minnesota.”

He was incredibly touchy when it came to Finley or St. Cloud. I understood. She and the settlement had brought him a lot of pain, but if he couldn’t pull it together in my war room, then he needed to leave. This wasn’t the appropriate time to let emotions take over our thoughts, not when millions of lives were at stake.

Abel saved me the exasperation. “It’s less about that, than it is about the influence Finley holds over some of the others.”

“I thought she claimed to be ill-connected,” I said, admittedly slightly confused about what connections such a bitch of a person could hold.

That wasn’t how relationships worked in The After. There needed to be some semblance of a reciprocal relationship to stay connected to other territories. This life didn’t offer a free pass to anyone, and her sharp tongue and piss poor behavior didn’t count as an incentive as far as I was concerned.

“Wolves dressed as sheep …” Sloan tsked in reference to the conversation we’d had only a night prior.

“Fear of Finley’s reaction is what will keep South Dakota from our side,” Abel explained. “She will also be the deciding factor inthe split over Iowa. Both of which are pivotal in holding the line considering Kansas and Wisconsin are lost causes.”

Riley would be damn proud of him right now. The sudden urge to tear up over how much of a man I’d seen him grow into in such a short time overtook me. Maybe Riley was right, maybe he had been old enough to seek a life of his own. I just hoped I could buy Elie a few more years so she wouldn’t be as inclined to lead the same kind of life. While I was proud of Abel, I didn’t want this for Elie. He’d been at this since he was around her age and had only recently matured into the role and his gifts at the age of twenty.

“What do you mean, Wisconsin?” I questioned him, pausing over the map instead of placing a Black Rook over them as well. This was news to me. “Madison has already sent confirmation that they await our orders.”

“Madison is on our side, but Kenosha, Milwaukee and Green Bay have already sent correspondence to Covert that they intend to fight against us.” Abel faced me with earnest eyes, knowing the information had the possibility of sending me off on a tangent from the last war.

Of course, they did, those weak sons of bitches.They’d barely been a benefit to us in the last war, claiming they didn’t have enough people to feed themselves, let alone loan us soldiers for the war. A sorry excuse for a group of settlements and an even sorrier alliance to hold. They weren’t much of a loss, but every soldier gained was a benefit I couldn’t deny.

“Sorry to them then.” I refrained on the extra commentary, but damn, it was hard to not shit talk those fuckers.

Reina snorted in disbelief. “So what? We leave all the innocent people in Madison to die? They’re not gonna go down without a fight, you know how Everhart is.”

It was true, Isabella Everhart was a fierce general. One of the few other female generals out there—we were a rare breed. A woman to be respected and even feared, but she would not be ableto resist when she was surrounded by people dedicated to a cause other than our own. Isabella was wise enough to know to keep her head down and wait to see if an opening presented itself to keep her people safe.

“We have no other option, Reina. They’re three against one,” I said, sympathizing with her concerns but knowing sympathy wouldn’t win us this war. “It would be a waste of time to send you up there and a waste of resources to redirect troops to cut off their lines of communication.”

“Casualty of war,” Sloan muttered, a Black King in hand.

She placed four of them over each settlement. The sight was unsettling, but not a real game changer. I doubted they’d do anything but pledge their allegiance and put lackluster soldiers along the borders. They weren’t a true threat to us unless they decided to cross over into one of our allied borders, which was hard to imagine with their history.

“It will never get any easier, Reina, which is a good thing. Means you have a good heart.” I wanted to console my sister, make her understand her intentions were good, that she shouldn’t abandon her kind soul just because we were in the middle of civil unrest. “The best we can do for them is to hope war never makes it out their way. On the off chance that it does, have faith they can hold their own long enough for us to do what we must.”

Alexiares cleared his throat, taking the tension away from one situation and placing it on another. “Lola will handle St. Paul. They’re too scared of her to say no. Any that do, well, they won’t be a problem for much longer.”

I nodded in confirmation, studying the map. The White Queen symbolized Salem Territory, reflecting our reputation for welcoming those who sought refuge, diplomacy, and the instrumental role we played in maintaining the peace. Transient Nation was captured as The White Bishop due to its uncanny fluidity. The mystery of where they stood in all of this was unsettling.

The Expanse, this vast and unforgiving realm, was our Black Rook. Things out here were straight forward, much like the piece itself in the game of chess. The people here were gritty and unyielding, essential players represented by their relentless struggle for survival. Then there was Covert Province, the Black King on our board of real-life chess. That was self-explanatory. If we didn’t make the right moves, they would dominate.

And right now, looking at the maps in front of me, there was a real chance that could happen. There were too many of them on our board. If Reina was unsuccessful and we didn’t do something about Finley, we were in for some serious shit. Shit, that would cost us many lives.

“Salt Lake would side with us,” he added on, reminding us of what he’d explained on our journey here. “They don’t like outsiders, much less assholes like the guys running Covert Province. We don’t need to stop there. If we send word, they’ll take care of Provo, Ogden, and Sandy for us.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

The question was for him, but I checked with Abel and Moe for confirmation. Both of them offered nothing but a tense, unsure nod.

“Positive,” Alexiares said with as much confidence as I could ask for.

I moved several more black rooks in place. “Where does that leave us then?”

“Cheyenne and Casper up in Wyoming. Montana is split in half. Billings and Missoula are solid ins, Bozeman is a hard no, Great Falls undecided.” Abel explained, the states of Wyoming and Montana a jumbled mess of black and white.

In Reina’s defense, the words she offered were poised, unwavering. “On it,” she said, but the creases in her face let me know returning to her home state would be nothing short ofnerve-wrecking.

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