Page 130 of Heart Cradle
He looked to the side of the table. “Nolenne. Aeilanna. There’s a fortified stone bridge near the Ironpine Valley. Scouts say it carries supplies from Vargen’s northern stockpiles. You two are to find it, collapse it and make it look like sabotage from within.”
Aeilanna inclined her head, already reaching for the map glyph with a flick of her fingers and Nolenne smirked, the expression shadowed by focus. “It’ll be down before nightfall.”
Orilan nodded and then turned his gaze. “Calen. Soren. I want the Avelan scouts at Dirth’s Hollow dead. No signal. No survivors.”
Calen sat straighter. “Fast and clean, or loud and messy?”
“Clean,” Taelin snapped. “We don’t want them to see us coming.”
Soren nodded once. “Consider it done.”
Orilan’s gaze swept down the table. “Fenric and Laren. Disrupt their stones. I want every transport and relay stone in the eastern reaches non-functional by this evening. That means sabotage, interference runes and anchor cracks. Whatever it takes. No fae jumps between fucking camps.”
He opened his mouth to continue, but Taelin spoke first, his tone calm and measured. “Laren can’t fly with Iskarra yet. They haven’t trained together in the air.”
“Rivakar will carry you both,” Branfil added, glancing at Fenric. “He’s used to tandem flight. You’ll have a steadier ride and better focus.”
Fenric looked at Laren and licked his lips. “Sounds like a joyride to me.”
Laren rolled her eyes. “Try not to fall off, we’re not circling back for your corpse.”
“Yes, well, make sure he’s strapped in please, Laren,” Orilan said dryly. “Especially if he’s just going to whimper after you like a lovesick pup the whole way”
A few of the leaders groaned or chuckled, just enough to ease the tension crackling through the air like old parchment.
Taelin spoke again, still scribbling notes with calm precision. “We’ll need coordination between teams. Secure return points. I’ll place runners at the fallback stone lines.”
“Isn’t that risky?” Maeve asked, tilting her head. “What if Avelan tracks them?”
“They won’t,” Branfil said simply. “Not if I write the runes myself.”
Soren smiled faintly. “God’s help their cartographers.”
Maeve smirked, then glanced to Orilan. “And the main force?”
Orilan tapped the map once, and a larger glyph flared, pulsing near the northern plains of Melrathen. “We let them keep marching south, keep them pinned in the pass. Let them think we’re uncoordinated. Then we’ll strike, after we’ve scattered their resources, severed their scouts, and blinded their transports.”
“We must hit them when they’re at their weakest,” Taelin added. “The hammer can only fall once.”
Silence settled for a moment, heavy and final, then Hayvalaine, raised her cup. “To bridges burned and wars won.”
The dining hall doors creaked open and Yendel entered quietly, the hem of his ink-dark robes brushing the stone. He was taller than most fae in the room, his presence was gentle, but never small. He paused justinside the threshold and bowed low. “Your Majesty,” he said, voice gravel-soft.
Orilan looked up, his expression easing. “Ah, Yendel. Yes. Come in.”
The magicer stepped forwards, folding his hands behind his back. His eyes flicked briefly towards Maeve, then Eiran, before settling again on the king. Orilan leaned forwards, fingers steepled. “The new princess,” he said, gesturing towards Maeve, “has made a rather unusual companion. I hear the Thunder are calling her Chainling.”
A murmur stirred down the table. Several heads turned, curious again. Maeve blushed, deeply.
Bloody Xelaini.
“We need to understand what it is. And what it’s becoming. Its intentions, its will,” Orilan continued, his voice softening, though steel edged every word. “She is bound to us, and to something far older. I will not have her sacrificed by accident, or made a pawn of relics best left buried.”
Maeve stiffened slightly in her seat.
Yendel drew a small scroll from his sleeve and unfurled it midair. The runes fluttered faintly, pulsing with layered protective magic. “Yes,” he said slowly. “As you know, I’ve been thinking about this for some time. We’ve spoken at length with the Runekeepers. Yesterday, they sent word, they’re now ready to see you.”
He looked to Maeve. “If you’re willing, we can take a transport stone there and back, you’ll be home by mid-afternoon.”
