Page 123 of A Reign of Embers

“They’d better get their act together once the tribune joins us.”

“Yeah, she isn’t going to have any patience for fools.”

A chuckle rings out. “I doubt even the gods would dare to challenge her when she has Sabrelle’s blessing. Don’t worry about them. We’re going to crush anyone who tries to get between us and that throne, so we can see a proper ruler put on it. Hit them with all our might, fast and hard, and we’ll plow straight through those deluded idiots.”

That’s their intended strategy, is it? I guess it fits Sabrelle’s reputation for brutal strength, but I’d gotten the impression she didn’t object to a more refined strategy once in a while.

The trouble is, from what I know about Aurelia’s situation and the size of Valerisse’s forces, plowing straightthrough the soldiers Axius managed to assemble might work just fine.

I scan the camp for several minutes longer, until my weary eyeballs feel like they might fall out of my head. As I pull back from the bushes, my foot comes down on a brittle twig.

Crack.

A few heads swivel my way. “Who’s there?” one of the sentries hollers.

Shit. I yank a thicker swath of darkness around me and wince as pain lances through my temples.

A couple of the soldiers step cautiously toward me. I can’t stay hidden if they walk straight into me.

Breathing as shallowly as I can, I set one foot back, and then another, glancing down to make sure I’m not about to set off any more natural tripwires. Even the mild impacts of my feet rattle through my skull.

Just hold on—another few steps, another few minutes…

The nearest sentry reaches the bushes, shakes his head, and returns to the camp. I continue easing backward, a little faster as I leave the tents farther behind.

I don’t completely release the shadows until I’m back in the shelter of the grove of trees.

I stagger and catch myself on a trunk. The bark scrapes my palm.

The ache in my head swells, my stomach lurches, and I vomit the meager dinner I gulped down hours ago into the brush.

Not quite done, I tell myself through the haze in my head. Have to move. Have to get home.

Have to make it toher.

I untie the horse and haul myself onto its back. Leaning my head against its mane, I clench my hands and drag a thin cloak of shadow around us.

Just a little farther. Just out of their view.

Great God help me, keep me conscious.

The paling of the imperial guard’s face at the palace gate reveals just how awful I must look.

“P-prince Raul?” she stammers. “I mean, Your Highness. Are you all right? Do I need to call a medic?”

I don’t think there’s any cure for the aches and pains of overusing one’s magic—and besides, those hurts have faded over the past day once I reached safer territory.

The only salve I need is the woman within these walls.

I shake my head. “Someone should see to the horse. It’s exhausted. I just need to rest.”

I don’t, of course. I walk straight to the shuttered bedroom near my own, open up the wall, and weave through the hidden passages to Aurelia’s apartment.

I rode through the night again. Dawn light is only just streaking across the gardens outside. When I emerge into the empress’s chambers with a faint hiss of the secret panel, Aurelia is sleeping, her face pressed against the pillow and far too tensed for someone supposedly in the deepest form of relaxation.

As always, there’s the stubborn ex-emperor standing guard by the door. I catch Marc’s gaze, bracing for some caustic comment, but after his initial stare, his mottled face actually… brightens.

“I told her you’d make it,” he says, sounding almost as dazed as I feel. “She’ll want to be woken up for this.”

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