Page 72 of Of Blood and Fire
“Here’s hoping they don’t intend to rain the fucking things down on us from that force they’re building near the Sheer,” I said grimly.
“The orbs are not for us,” Gisele said into the brief silence. “Though he knows not what they do intend.”
I crossed my arms and lightly rubbed them, though it didn’t do much against the growing pulse of impending doom. “Meaning that, for all he knows, they could be intending to rain them all down on the surrounding mountains and bury the whole damn fortress under all the damn rubble.”
“There is no honor in such a victory, but he would nevertheless rejoice in our defeat and dedicate our remains to his gods,” Gisele intoned.
“I’m afraid rejoicing isn’t something that lies in his future,” Garran said. “Where do the gilded riders come from, Rayabar?”
This time he answered, and his expression was mocking. It wasn’t hard to guess he believed it didn’t matter if we knew.
“Grie-i-ton lies far to the northeast,” Gisele said. “Neither your fleet nor your winged beasts will reach it in time to stop what comes. We will lay your fortresses to waste and claim your lands as our own.”
“Grie-i-ton is the name our captured rider kept giving us when I asked for his homeland,” I commented.
The old man’s breathing began to rattle. The magic that allowed him to do this was now taking its toll on his strength. Either this sort of mind reading was far harder than reading theminds of animals, or the Rayabar was fighting internally and causing our cipher to use more strength than he normally would.
“Three more questions,” Gisele added. “After that, we must stop.”
Garran hesitated. “What waystations are the riders using aside from Jakarra and Ezu?”
The Rayabar didn’t reply, but Gisele said, “He does not know, but he is aware that the Islands were not the first of the free lands to fall to their soldiers.”
“Meaning our suspicions might be right, and theyarebehind Reydia’s urgent missive,” I said.
“He recognized that name,” Gisele said.
“What of the barges?” I asked. “Where do the Stymphalian gather in the Eastern Seas?”
Given Stymphalian was the name our captured rider had used for the birds, it was likely the name the Mareritt knew them by.
More foul language from the Rayabar.
“He is not a mariner and cannot give you coordinates, but they are an hour’s flight from the Shatter to the northwest of K’Anor.” Gisele paused, her eyes narrowed as she listened to the old man. “The Shatter being their name for the area of the range that ends in the Sheer. One more question, and then we must end this session.”
Garran hesitated. “Why do the riders gather on the Sheer?”
The Rayabar spat another reply, glaring hard at Garran.
“He knows not, he cares not,” Gisele intoned. “But this land of yours will be ours. It is our destiny and our right.”
I snorted. “If he believes the riders will allow the Mareritt to come in and claim our continent, he and his people are bigger fools than I’d imagined. Ask him what he knows about the fog creeping down from the Ghost Forest.”
Which was in fact a fourth question, but after a few seconds, she replied, “Nothing,” Gisele said. “It is not his purview.”
“Or he’s not important enough to warrant knowing,” I commented.
The Rayabar bared his teeth, his sharp canines gleaming in the wan light filtering in from the tubes behind us.
“You will die. You will all die; your winged beasts cannot save you. Nothing can save you,” Gisele intoned. “We will dance on your bones and raise your hearts on the spears of victory.”
She paused, but he continued, spitting his venomous words our way, spraying spittle in his fury.
“Pray to your gods. Enjoy your wine and your women while you can. Death comes for these lands, and she is hungry.”
“How hungry?” Damon asked evenly.
“Days,” came the vicious reply. “Your souls will be hers in days.”
