We made haste the next day, packing quickly and making our good-byes so we could make for Mithra’s Wall before Kance’s army could engage the Drychta. I hurried to Likh’s tent when the latter proved slow to appear. “Lord Agnarr is waiting to see us go,” I said abruptly, pushing back the door. “I’m worried about Prince—King Kance, and the sooner we leave, the quicker we can get to—”
Likh and Khalad sprang apart. I stared, focused on keeping my jaw shut, while they both babbled together:
“We were already leaving—”
“Khalad was—it’s cold even with all the Fire runes present—”
“We weren’t—Likh wasn’t feeling well and I was trying to—”
“—we didn’t bring enough warm clothing, and Khalad was kind enough to—”
“—not sick or anything, but I wanted to check the wards in case—”
“I’m going to give you two five minutes to compose yourselves,” I said gently, “and to get your stories straight, but that’s all the time we can spare. We leave within half an hour if we want to find Kance before his army clashes with Aadil’s. We may be in the thick of battle as soon as the azi lands, so prepare yourselves.” Slowly, I closed the door, smiling to myself. It was a start.
“I am sorry that you could not find the answers you seek here,” Agnarr told me as I returned to where he and the other Gorvekai waited with Kalen to see us off.
“So am I, milord.” Likh and Khalad arrived moments later, the couple blushing and taking great pains not to look at me. Kalen raised an eyebrow.
“Your cousin finally got the hint,” I murmured to him.
“Good. I was wondering when he’d work up the guts to make a move.”
“I’m not sure he was the first to do so.”
The azi was quick to answer my call. I saw brief images of forests below and bright sky overhead before the two blurred together as it sped obediently toward me. Seas glittered blue before peaks of white crystals abruptly appeared. I saw an ice fjord, a breathtaking land sculpture of ice and glass, before the azi veered off, making for our small encampment.
Through its eyes, I caught sight of us, small as ants, standing in a cluster at the center of the frozen tundra. The beast landed, crooning and dipping all three heads in a monstrous curtsy.
“Good boys.” I stroked each head in turn as they butted one another for my attention. Behind us, the soldiers’ spears and axes remained raised, unconvinced by the daeva’s show of obedience.
“If I took all the daeva as pets, rather than as beasts to be put into the ground every few years, would I be worthy, regardless of what your mountain tells you?”
Agnarr bowed. “It is hard enough to war with one’s own conscience, but far more difficult to deal with one’s own and another’s at all times. Add six more and insanity is not far off.”
“But if I was successful?”
“I cannot speak for the mountain, but perhaps you can ask it again one day.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Agnarr. I hope we shall see each other again under more forgiving circumstances.”
“Were you serious about that?” Kalen asked me, as Khalad awkwardly offered a helping hand to the still red-faced Likh, which the asha accepted. My love didn’t look happy—it was the complete opposite of what I’d promised the night before. “Do you intend to control all the other daeva?”
“No,” I admitted. “It took everything I had juggling both the azi and the savul, and I’m not keen on taking on more. But if I keep my hold on the azi, and perhaps Mykkie or another Dark asha she trains take in one or two more, then maybe we could prevent the Faceless from taking their bezoars.”
“That will make you all targets.”
“Dark asha have always been targets. If we divided the tasks, perhaps it would lessen the burden.”
“There usually aren’t more than three or four Dark asha at a time.”
“Four could be enough, as long as the Faceless don’t take control of all seven daeva. It’s the best compromise I can think of.” I sighed. “I’m better now at Veiling, at hiding where people cannot find me. It’s not the most foolproof plan, but at least I can spare Mykkie the exertion of a few more daeva, and both of us would draw in less of the Dark that way.”
“And increase both your life spans.” No longer shy about showing his affection before strangers, Kalen pecked me on the lips. “I can’t think of any better options.”
The Gorvekai drove the butts of their spears against the hard ground, and the others brandished their axes. It was a strange ceremony, a special farewell. The azi acknowledged their good-byes with a thin, approving cry. It spread its wings to full span, a majestic sight against the backdrop of ice and snow, and leaped into the sky. Soon the men and women saluting us were no more than specks as I aligned my thoughts with the daeva’s, charting a new route for us, crossing continents into Yadoshan territory, heading for Mithra’s Wall.
The azi was quick. Scarcely an hour passed before we caught sight of the mountain range destination looming ahead, and I directed the azi to take a circular route over it, trying to determine if there were armies on the ground already locked in battle.
What I saw froze my heart. The black-and-yellow banners of the Drychta already surrounded the base of the largest peak. I saw soldiers in armor scaling its heights, no doubt seeking a cave or entrance within. Not too far away, the gold and red of the Odalian banners marched toward the Drychta. A large portion of Aadil’s troops had already turned, their intent to engage the Odalians obvious.
I felt Kalen’s hands on my waist, anchoring me against him as I ordered the azi to make for the open space that separated both combatants, which was narrowing by the minute. The daeva dipped headfirst, barreling toward the ground at dizzying speed. Just before impact, it shifted abruptly so that its heavy, clawed talons struck up soil and dirt, sending storms of sand rising up to obscure our vision.
The unexpected appearance of the azi was enough to give the Odalians pause, but the Drychta showed no such prudence. They focused on the daeva, yelling battle cries as they pressed forward, weapons at the ready. Among the approaching crowd I could make out the glittering runes of Fire, Wind, and Mud that Drychta spellbinders hurled at us.
Kalen was busy forming a spell of his own, taking advantage of the azi’s speed to create the largest rune I’d ever seen across the sky. As the army drew near, he made a quick, cutting gesture, sending a concentrated wave of knifelike wind that took down whole columns of soldiers, bowling them over before they could cast their own magic. At the same time, the azi snarled and turned, its spiked tail whipping the nearest soldiers and tearing several of them in half. Likh made a gagging sound beside me and squeezed her eyes as Khalad held her, shielding her from the horrific view. Kalen’s spell had taken out hordes of men, mowing them down like stalks of wheat, and the others immediately scrambled for safety. Several of the spellbinders had held back though, and now their spells came spiraling toward us.
I didn’t stop to think. I pushed my thoughts, the azi’s still tied to mine, and wove both the Raising and Puppet runes in quick succession. Almost immediately, the fallen soldiers righted themselves, their features blank, and rushed before us, taking the brunt of the magic that sizzled through their bodies and creating a human barrier that gave Kalen enough time to construct a Shield rune of his own.
I ordered other undead toward their comrades, and soon the Drychta were fighting their own previously deceased. The azi raised its three heads, adding fire to the chaos, and the line holding the Drychta defenses faltered. More soldiers turned and fled, leaving only their dead behind.
“How did you raise so many?” Kalen asked me, chest heaving from his exertions.
I stared at the Drychta dead. I heard their protests and sensed their resistance; I felt them struggling against me, unwilling to give me power over their bodies.
And yet I could.
I let go, and the babble of angry voices faded from my head. The soldiers dropped, dead in every sense of the word once more.
“Was this one of the gifts of Stranger’s Peak that Agnarr mentioned?” he asked.
I should not have been capable of raising so many fighters, even with the Puppet rune and the azi to draw strength from.
“Let’s talk about this after we see Kance,” Kalen suggested, though the worry didn’t leave him. I nodded and glanced back at Khalad and Likh to see how the two were faring, finding them shaken but unhurt.
The Odalians had not joined our efforts when we engaged the Drychta, but neither had they retreated. Instead, they stood some distance away, warily eyeing the azi, who snorted and ignored them. One of them rode forward cautiously, and I saw, to my surprise, that it was General Lode.
“Milady,” he greeted us uncertainly. “This is the last place I expected to see you again.” He turned his gaze to Kalen. “It is equally surprising to see the Duke of Holsrath.”
“I relinquished all claims to the dukedom, sir,” Kalen said irritably. “And Kance can insist that I am eligible for the throne after him and Khalad all he wants, but he needs to understand what official abdication means.”
General Lode coughed. “I presume, then, that you are to assist us in our war against Drycht?”
“Why is Drycht even here to begin with? And why has Kance sent no word to Kion or to the Yadoshans for assistance until the very last minute? He cannot imagine that sending out armies without aid would result in a victory. King Aadil is not known for his honor. Where is he, by the way? Still at the palace?”
“That is not entirely true, Kalen,” came an all-too-familiar voice as King Kance stopped before the daeva, taking his white horse in hand. His tone was how I remembered: soft, pleasant, quiet. “For one thing, I am not, as you can see, in the palace.”
• • •
“Are you a blithering fool?” Kalen exploded the instant we reached the Odalian encampment. His heartsglass had been a stormy mix of silver and blue, but he had reined in his anger until we were within the safety of the improvised garrison General Lode had constructed, away from any unexpected attacks by the Drycht. The azi had trotted after us, settling itself comfortably outside the Odalian defenses, one head keeping an eye on the fortifications while the other two watched the horizon intently.
“I did what I had to, Kalen.” King Kance had changed. He’d grown his hair longer, and he was thinner. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, more prominent than when I had last seen him. His skin was darker as well, like he’d been spending more time under the sun. He no longer made my heartsglass flutter like it had when I was a novice, but it hurt to see him all the same.
“I’ve had to make a few adjustments in the last few months.” King Kance didn’t look at me. In fact, he acted like I wasn’t even there at all. “We’ve caught more than our share of Drychta spies skulking about Odalia, which aroused my curiosity. Mithra’s Wall straddles the border between my kingdom and the Yadosha city-states, and all our information pointed to some secret goings-on there by our brothers of the south. Aadil is a crafty bastard; he’d sent a reconnaissance group at first, no more than four or five people, to infiltrate the mountain. But one of Lode’s patrols caught them. We sent several Deathseekers to back those soldiers, and fortunately, they were no match for us, though the survivors chose to kill themselves before we could interrogate them.
“But rather than explain himself, Aadil responded with an even bigger army, as you can see. They spent months sailing around the Yellow Sea and skirting along Yadosha’s Eternity Mountains to avoid our patrols. They want something important from these ranges to go through all this trouble.”
“This is not a good enough reason to insert yourself in the thick of battle,” Kalen growled.
“My father kept me in the palace for most of my life, Kalen. You know that—you were there. He laughed when I asked to be taught proper swordsmanship, and it was you who gave me lessons in secret. I am sick and tired of not knowing what is in my own kingdom. I barely knew what went on in my own palace! If I had been wiser, perhaps Telemaine would not have connived with a Faceless for so long!”
I rarely saw Kance angry. The cold fury he displayed at our last meeting had been the first and last time. But he had clearly grown accustomed to anger and could now wield it like a finely sharpened knife. Quietly, I grieved for the role I played in his change.
“I found some of those Drychta spies in Kneave, Kalen,” the king continued. “In my own palace. If I cannot be safe there, then I will not be safe anywhere.”
“Wait, Your Majesty.” I didn’t need him to acknowledge my presence. But talk of spies in Kneave brought to mind the vision I’d had of him in battle, and I would much rather face his icy wrath again than remain uncertain. “There have been cases of a strange new rune in Kion—they call it Blight. It transforms its victims into daeva-like monsters, and there is no cure, save for the early prevention and treatment of its symptoms. If I may, I would like to use a Delving rune on all of you, to determine if anyone has been affected.”
Kance had fallen silent as I spoke, and for the first time since we had seen each other again, his green eyes were on mine, though his face was neutral. He inclined his head, barely enough for a nod. Not trusting myself to look back at him again, I wove the rune and sighed in quiet relief when it displayed none of the red glows that marked the affected.
“We need to conduct the Delving on all the soldiers who’ve come with you,” Kalen said tersely. “Why didn’t you ask us for help? Do you no longer trust us?”
“This is not the time, the both of you,” Khalad said quietly. “We think a Faceless hides in Mithra’s Wall, allying himself with King Aadil’s army, and we suspect it might be Druj.”
“If that is true, then we would appreciate any help you can give,” General Lode said brusquely. “We have come with our own Deathseekers, but they will need updates on any information you may have, Kalen. What strategy do you propose?”
“Leave the Faceless to us. But we’ll need the rest of the Drychta distracted. That’s where your men come in, General. Draw as many of them away from the base of Mithra’s Wall as you can and keep an eye on the azi. Let it fight, and retreat when it starts spurting fire. You may not want the daeva involved, but it’s our weapon to use.”
General Lode frowned. “It sends ice through my veins, having that beast near. I cannot guarantee that my men won’t behave foolishly if it lies between us and safety, milord.”
“Tea will tell it to keep its distance from your soldiers.”
“A good compromise. Milady, some of my Deathseekers vouch for your trustworthiness, but many of my soldiers have not been given the same education. They might not cotton to being delved, however that works.”
“I’ll go with you,” Khalad told me, rising to his feet. “They remember me, at least.” He turned to Likh. “Will you come with me, milady?” he asked softly, humbly, and the smile that spread across the asha’s face was heartwarming.
“Stay, Kalen,” Kance said, and it was hard to read the intent in his heartsglass. “We need to talk.”
Kalen nodded, equally as expressionless. “Tea, I’ll find you later.”
“Will they be all right?” I asked Khalad worriedly, glancing back to watch the rest of the generals dispersing, leaving the two alone.
“They need to talk out their issues.” Khalad grinned impishly. “Stubborn mules, the both of them, though you wouldn’t think it of Kance. I know it doesn’t sound like it right now, but trust me—they’ll reconcile. They always do.”