Page 131 of Heart Cradle
Maeve glanced at the map, then nodded. “And they think they have answers?”
“Yes.” Yendel said quietly, “It’s time to ask the right questions.”
Eiran sat forwards. “Then we’ll go.”
“No,” Taelin said sharply. “Eiran, you’re needed here. For the strikes, for command. You are a prince of Melrathen, not a courier.”
Eiran’s eyes went cold. “She is my mate.”
“And you are a leader,” Taelin snapped.
Maeve opened her mouth, but Orilan raised a hand and the room stilled. “I understand both sides,” the king said slowly. “But this isn’t justsentimental. The Chain turned the tide during yesterday’s… disturbance. We need to know what it’s capable of, and what it might cost. If it becomes unstable, or worse, sentient in a way we cannot control...”
Eiran’s jaw was tight, trying to manage the urge to protect his mate. “Then I’ll send a double,” he said, voice low.
Branfil leaned forwards, calm as ever. “He means me.”
Eiran turned to him. “If I can’t go, Bran does. He’s trained in intention defence. If anything touches her…”
Maeve squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll be safe, Eiran. I trust Yendel and Bran with my life.”
“You better be safe,” Fenric muttered. “We just got you in a crown.”
“Are you implying I’m high maintenance?” Maeve said, arching a brow.
Fenric grinned. “I’m implying that if you die on us, Eiran will be so insufferable we’ll have to throw him off a tower, then you’ll both be dead.”
“Fair,” said Calen, without looking up from his toast.
Orilan raised a hand again. “Enough, leave for the Runekeepers now. The rest of us prepare to make war.”
“Or make love,” Ghaul added with a grin, leaning back in his chair and lifting his mug. “Either will suffice.”
He sent a wink down the table to Chiefess Rinya of Tidehaven and she didn’t miss a beat, tipping her head lazily towards Taelin. “Commander, see to it my tent’s pitched near Ghaul’s. Strictly for… tactical alignment, of course.”
Taelin looked like he wished the table would swallow him whole, especially as Ghaul grabbed his crotch with theatrical flair.
Across the room, Hayvalaine’s father, Veralis of Eldrisil raised a graceful hand. “And what would you have the rest of us do, Your Majesty? Our forces await orders.”
Orilan straightened, his tone shifting back to command. “All allied forces are to move to the Maelinar Ridge barracks. There’s a bay large enough to harbour the Storm Coasts. Aeilanna has shielded the entire site, its completely cloaked from the Pale Court’s scouts. They won’t sense our numbers.”
“The barracks are reinforced with layered wards,” Aeilanna added. “Twelve transport stones anchor the main hall, and the bay holds one as well. We can dispatch entire wings in under a minute.”
Eiran nodded. “It’s where we last staged a campaign. Well defended and fast.”
Ghaul let out a low, satisfied whistle. “My Fayean bastards will like it there.” He shot a grin towards Rinya. “Especially with Storm Coast fighters nearby.”
Thalen of Edhenvale sipped his coffee. “Then we’d best hope the barracks survive us.”
Chapter Sixty-One – Burn, Break, Bleed
It took nearly three hours of flight to reach the pass. The two dragons, Solirra and Hervour, silent as shadows, cut across the wind with ruthless efficiency.
“They’ll have soldiers ahead,”Aeilanna murmured in mind-talk, eyes narrowed where she sat astride Solirra. “They have traps set, I can feel them humming against my wards.”
“I see fae,”Hervour answered, voice dry and sure. “Four on the bluffs. Two in the trees. More further in, waiting for the orders that will never come.”
“Let’s keep it that way,”Nolenne added, seated astride the dragons in her rune-etched saddle, fingers already brushing her knives.
