‘And an armistice for the exchange,’ Sylvie instructed.
‘Perhaps we should take a walk?’ Wyldaern whispered to Cahra.
‘Pleasedo,’ Thelaema muttered darkly, turning away to face the royals.
Cahra glared at Thelaema, Hael’s fire rising to writhe inside her.They hurt Thierre.She knew it was unfair, but she was angry: at the Oracle and the woman’s fickle visions, the Nether-magicks that powered the Seers.
Yes, Thelaema had been right: Raiden was in the caves and Thierre was kidnapped. But how did the Oracle know for certain that Cahra going to Hael’stromia was folly, exactly? The woman said her visions flickered on and off. What if Cahra’s plan to free Hael could have saved Thierre from getting hurt? But to Thelaema, the only thing of consequence was Cahra.
The absurd notion of her life outweighing someone else’s made Cahra feel sick, and the way Thelaema charged so blindly in that direction, as if nothing else mattered…
It wasn’t right. None of this was, she thought with an ugly shudder.
‘Commander, General. Assemble the kingdom’s forces, with troops ready to march on my orders. High Oracle, can you help locate our enemies?’ King Royce’s words faded as Cahra fought to control her spiralling emotions.
Wyldaern touched her shoulder and Cahra nodded, the two leaving Thelaema and the Luminaux royals to orchestrate war.
Outside in the hall, Cahra let her Seer friend lead her along, the hand-crafted columns flanking their path adorned with mountains and ivy beneath the vaulted ceiling. But she couldn’t think of whites and greens.
Not when all she could think of was blue goldstone.
Cahra inhaled. When she loosed the breath from her lips, it was steaming.
She looked at Wyldaern. ‘I need tohitsomething,’ she said.
CHAPTER 35
Thierre knew that it was bad.
He didn’t need the shackles crushing his wrists – or the cuts to his face, his neck, the stab wounds to his chest and stomach, his life’s blood oozing to the stonework floor, even the bolted, padlocked door with a horde of guards lusting to finish the blades’ work – to know that his predicament had plummeted to new levels.
Instead, a glance from Thierre’s good eye – the one not bloated shut – at the people assembled before him was all it took.
To know that he was not long for this life.
Thierre coughed, a gob of blood expelling from his split lips, as his flesh wrung yet another shiver from him. He lowered his too-groggy head, blood pulsing, pooling at his feet.
Yet Thierre had trained to withstand such things. So, despite his body begging him to surrender to, at the very least, unconsciousness, he held on.
And listened. His sister kingdom rulers did not disappoint.
‘What says he?’ Steward Atriposte turned his back on Thierre, the ruler’s heavy cloak dyed Kolyath’s infamous blood-red.
‘Little,’ Commander Jarett reported, cold fury in his eyes at Thierre’s resistance. Lamentably, Thierre recognised the spark behind that look. What it meant for him.
More torture. The man lived for the pleasure of his violence.
Stupendous.Thierre sighed, a hacking cough following.
King Decimus of Ozumbre spoke next, eyes on Thierre. ‘How long will this take?’ Ozumbre was a volcanic land with a dry, oppressive heat, and the ruler was dressed for such, his sleeveless jerkin diverging from Atriposte’s calculated finery as King Decimus crossed his arms over his battle-worn vest, his greyish skin visible. The people of Ozumbre had lived for so long under the shadow of their fiery peak that they mirrored their environment, reminiscent of the ash that rained from the volcanic sky.
‘If your Commander is not up to such an important task, esteemed Steward, then might I suggest Ozumbre’s royal spymaster?’ Decimus’ teal gaze flickered with amusement. ‘Or your own Commander Sullian?’
Thierre could not suppress his tremble. Ozumbre’s spymaster was well-known for hacking limbs from his interrogation subjects. He tried to swallow. If the sadist was permitted, the next time Thierre’s father received him would be piece by blood-soaked piece.
Commander Jarett bared his teeth. ‘Sullian is not required.’
‘Are you so sure of that, brother?’ Light footfalls sounded behind Thierre.