Page 86

Another General rose then, his chair scraping against stone. "Sir, we don't believe that to be in the best interest of the Guard."

Laryk shot up, closing the distance between them in two strides. "I haven't even requested help from the base faction," he seethed, close enough that the other General took a step back. "So I fail to see why you feel qualified to speak on this matter."

"Sit down." The King leaned back, shadows deepening under his eyes. "All of you, sit down."

My quill raced across the parchment, capturing every word as the Generals found their seats.

"Ashford," the King continued, "explain to me why you need such excessive presence in the West when we've had so little activity at the tear."

Laryk sighed, collecting himself before speaking. "Because they're coming back. I don't know when, but I know we have to be ready. We have a new strategy, as you're aware." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk, and something in his eyes made me pause in my writing. "I saw something remarkable the night they descended on Emeraal. Something I had never before witnessed—something that seemed impossible."

The scratch of my quill was the only sound as he continued.

"I held this back while I tried to determine if what I saw was real. But after consideration, I'm certain." His voice dropped lower. "A man among the shadows, his form clear as day. These are no monsters from storybooks. These are intelligent, capable soldiers who can somehow cloak themselves. They are an even bigger threat than we could ever have known. Perhaps there’s more to their attacks than we originally thought."

Several Generals scoffed, but the King's entire demeanor shifted, his attention suddenly razor-sharp.

"That's quite a claim, General Ashford."

Laryk held his gaze. "And they took her. Fia Riftborne. The one thing that could have potentially revealed what they were."

"The girl was killed, Ashford," one of the older Generals cut in. "You're behaving like a madman over a simple initiate."

Laryk's chair crashed backward as he rounded on the man. "They leave the bodies behind. There's a reason they took her. And there's a chance she's still alive."

The King stood then, slamming his hands against the desk hard enough to make my inkwell rattle. "Ashford, I realize you lost a great potential focus that night. I know how hard you had been working to prepare her. I understand your loss. But I must agree, the girl is most likely dead." He paused, and something in his tone made my hand still over the parchment. "Because if she is not, and she has spent two entire months with the enemy, if she has not found a way back to us... Well, according to our statutes, she would be considered a threat to the realm. And would require immediate questioning."

Laryk went completely still. "Respectfully, Your Grace, that statute is antiquated and completely lacking the nuance the situation requires. What if she is incapable of coming back to Sídhe? What if she's being held as a prisoner? What if?—"

"I will hear no more." The King's voice cracked through the chamber like lightning. "Ashford, you may keep the factions in the Western strongholds, but I won't hear another word of this. I chose you for a reason, do not make me regret my decision."

Just as he turned to leave, a knock echoed through the silence.

"Enter," the King commanded, exhaustion heavy in his voice.

The door creaked open to reveal a soldier in a green uniform, his face drained of color.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Your Grace, but there's been a situation." The man swallowed hard. "Every General is needed in Stormshire immediately."

My quill clattered against the desk as the dream began to fade, but not before I caught the look that passed between Laryk and the King.

I shot out of bed, eyes flaring as I recognized the room around me—my new quarters in the Umbra lodging.

I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling my heart racing beneath. The Generals. They were either unaware of what was truly happening across the rip, or they were incredible actors. The King, however… his reaction to what Laryk saw that night in Emeraal, his insinuation that I would need to be questioned if I ever returned. I couldn’t think of a single reason he would be so avoidant unless he knew. Unless he knew exactly what he was doing, who he was stealing from. The secret he was keeping even from his higher-ups.

I touched my feet down onto the stone floor and ran a hand through my hair, trying to process all of the new information. Laryk was going to keep the Guard stationed in the West, that was nothing new. But he said something about a new strategy, and the thought of that made my blood run cold. If Urkin’s ultimatumwasn’t already sitting on me heavy enough as it was, this just added more pressure. I had to find something—anything.

And I knew what I needed to do.

The corridor outside my quarters felt strangely empty without Aether's looming presence. No dark figure against the wall, no golden eyes tracking my movements. I almost missed it—almost. At least when he'd been my jailer, I'd known exactly where to find him.

Gray light filtered in through the windows as it always did, but the fortress was still quiet, most of its residents still asleep. A woman emerged from the communal shower room, eyes falling on me before she hurriedly turned the corner.

I tugged at my own collar, still unused to the stiff fabric of the Umbra casual wear. The wordSpectrefelt heavy where it was printed across my chest pocket. It wasn't so different from my Guard uniform, not really, but the shape was more streamlined, more fitted and structured compared to Sídhe's grandeur. I felt a pang of guilt churn through me. The King wouldn’t be totally off-base for wanting me questioned. With the decisions I’d made, I wouldn’t even be a threat anymore. I’d be a traitor to the realm. I knew that’s how it would look. I just hoped Laryk would believe I was trying to save us all.

My head ached from lack of sleep. I'd spent half the night hunched over my desk, trying to devise a plan that wouldn't end in more bloodshed. But every attempt had fallen flat, every strategy crumbling under the weight of what was really going on. The truth was, I didn't know enough—about Umbrathia, about its history, about Riftdremar or arcanite or any of the factors that had led us here. If I was going to stop this war, I needed to understand it first.

Which meant I needed the archives. Which meant I needed Aether.