Page 93 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

Leon

Stupid, arrogant humans. They think they can march in here and demand Ana speak with their leader after they attacked us? I stare into their faces, wondering if any of them were there the day my parents died. Of course it’s possible none of these people were directly involved, but if they’re part of this organization, they still have blood on their hands. Clearly, the rebels haven’t changed since they started calling themselves the Hand of Ralus. All they care about is their cause—and to hell with the innocent people who get hurt along the way.

“What is this pressing reason?” I ask.

The woman gives me and my soldiers a cold look. “I’m under orders not to share that information. Our leader wishes to discuss it in person.”

“So you expect her to just go quietly with a band of strangers who tried to sneak up on us and attacked one of our own?”

“He attacked us first,” the woman points out. “And we weren’tsneaking upon you. We were being cautious. Our message said that the princess was with a group of dangerous-looking people. After the rumors of her being kidnapped by the fae, we couldn’t be sure she was here of her own will.”

She’s staring at me so hard it’s like she’s trying to look straight through my glamour.

I scowl. “She is.”

“I’d rather hear that from the princess.” The woman scowls back.

We both look over at Ana, waiting for her to speak, but she’s conflicted. I’m about to suggest she tell these people where to shove their demands when she appears to make a decision.

“You said kidnapped. So you don’t think I conspired with Filusia to murder my parents?” she asks.

Alastor’s attacker scoffs like the very suggestion is ridiculous. The redheaded woman gives him a disapproving look before she answers.

“No, we don’t. We’ve long had our suspicions of Lady Oclanna—and her husband, who is such a rabid Ethiran that it had started to create a rift between the deceased queen and her sister. It was highly convenient, then, that Their Majesties should turn out to have a secret heir, only for Lady Oclanna to become regent and the heir to be branded a murdering heretic. It has the reek of Temple lies about it.”

Ana stiffens at her choice of wording. “I’m considered a heretic? Why?”

“They say you’ve killed clerics and tried to stop a purge.”

Ana’s shoulders relax. It seems these people don’t know she’s a solari, which is interesting. It means the Temple hasn’t shared that fact with the general population yet, though the bearer who escaped from Otscold must’ve told Caledon by now. Is the Temple’s leader waiting for some specific occasion before playing that card?

“I did do all those things, for the record,” Ana says.

The woman smiles darkly. “Good. Then you’ll fit right in, Your Highness. Killing clerics is our business.”

Ana glances at me, but I can’t read the look. “And if I were to come meet with this leader of yours, how would that work?”

“We’ve been given permission to take you to one of our bases where our leader will be waiting.” The woman gives me a disdainful look. “I suppose you can bring your bodyguards, if that makes you feel safer.”

“Bodyguards?”Eryx growls, insulted by her assumption.

“They’re my friends,” Ana clarifies. “And I’ll need to speak with some of them in private before I make a decision.”

The woman bows her head. “Very well, Your Highness.”

“Let’s go inside,” Ana says to me and Tira. She sweeps her gaze over the rest of the group, the mix of human rebels and fae soldiers. “Now, do you think you can avoid attacking each other until we get back? Will, would you mind?”

He understands her immediately, stepping forward to put himself between the two groups. “I’ll make sure the peace is kept,” he says.

Inside the cottage, Ana’s first action is to find the back bedroom where Hyllus is watching over Alastor.

“No change?” Tira asks as Ana leans over Alastor, touching his wrist and closing her eyes.

“He’s not stirred at all,” Hyllus says.

Ana opens her eyes and nods. “That man was telling the truth—Alastor’s running a fever, but he’s definitely not getting weaker.”

“That doesn’t mean we can trust them,” I say. Ana leads us back out of the small bedroom and into the living space.

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