Page 125
In every reflection she’d seen, she hadn’t looked quite like … likethis.
Was this howeveryonesaw her?
Was this howhesaw her?
Alora scanned the room from his position. Everyone else looked … so muted. Jade’s fiery hair lacked its intensity, Thalon’s Earned lost their shine. Even the room was cast in a darkness she hadn’t seen in her own vision.
Ignoring those strange feelings, Alora blinked, realizing that Garrik had too with a nervous inhale. There would be time to decipher what it meant later.
Their eyes scanned over the routes together, like she was controlling his movements. Carefully following theSmokeshadow trails that cleaved unmarked paths through the mountain and followed ones routed in ink. Over streams of rich sweet water, down lush valleys, over rockscapes, and trees taller than the forests of Telldaira.
And hidden within the mountain, mere miles from the vibrant town on the map, a small cave system that unveiled entrances to both sides of the mountain. To a place she doubted sunlight had ever touched or boots had ever exited once entering—if the stories were to be believed.
The legend’s lair.
Their eyes burned into the caves and swirls of darkness there.
Interesting.Garrik lifted his head, eyes scanning the map with a devilish grin as her eyesight returned to her own view.You would go to the beast in the mountain?
If you’re trying to keep someone out, what better place to make your entrance? Make it appear as the last place you’d go.
You are not afraid of what lies within the darkness?
I’ve lived my entire life in darkness. It doesn’t scare me anymore.
Garrik pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the dirt drawing the room's attention.Then it is settled.
To Alora’s horror and rapidly blushing cheeks, he stood, silver irises locked onto hers before he spoke.
“We go through the caves.”
The thought of entering Alynthia, and even the surrounding mountains, was cocooned with a heavy pressure of unease, making Alora’s fingers ache as they rode north.
To make matters worse, the shifting eyes of the generals and Jade added to an uneasy fact. That in a few days, they wouldexecute a route conjured by someone below their honored and ruthlessly earned ranks.
Alora. The High Prince sought strategy fromherover his trusted council.
And when he revealed that small detail, the tent had erupted in bursts of protest from not a few, but almost all. Thalon had been a steady rock, beaming ear to ear in whatever amusing notion of heroic scenarios he pictured at the thought of entering the caves. His ecstatic smile forced the edges of her mouth to twist up before his palm had patted her shoulder in pride. And before he exited the tent, he was sure to show Alora precisely where on his arm he’d ink whatever beast they might encounter.
Apparently, those markings inlaid in grave detail were all the horrific monsters he’d slain. Like trophies, the mere mention of new ink had him vibrating out into the sunlight.
There was no gamroara though, she’d noted. And when questioned about it, Thalon had simply explained that it wasn’t him that had felled the beast. That honor, if Garrik would ever allow him to mark his skin, belonged to the High Prince. And Thalon was convinced that Garrik would collect ink one day. He just needed a little more convincing.
Two. That made two who approved.
The churning in her gut didn’t pair well with Storm’s steps across the loose dirt and stones when they moved out the next morning. She had little training in battle strategy from the few nights of schooling by Thalon and short, restless lessons from Garrik. And now the Dragons would follow a path routed by her, a common Mystic compared to the rest. Almost an outsider by the years of trust that bonded many of the others.
A Mystic that hadn’t accompanied any extractions as of yet.
She hadn’t been ready to—not yet. Though the High Prince had given her a choice, declining to persuade faeries to fight had been easy. Her experience hadn’t been of her own choice,and she wasn’t sure she could be the one to convince another to potentially give their life to a cause she hadn’t joined willingly. And she’d certainly never put herself in a position that might force someone from their home … even if saving their life.
Alora shifted in the saddle uncomfortably, clenching the reins.
To that point, her own situation was an incident that required a rescue. Luckily, the multitude of the High King’s Ravens were sent east. Sometimes she wondered if she could see smoke cascading into the sky from burned towns in their wake. Just like Telldaira. Just like countless others before.
The only threat they displayed in their travels was the High Prince arriving at the city gates, under the cover of those terrifying stories foretold of the ruthless gray-haired demon of Elysian. An illusion. And despite the nerves threatening to unsettle her, she knew it had to be done. Garrik had no other option. He had to play the part.
Even when the legion crossed through towns with no path around, they all had to appear just as unyielding as their commander. If anyone outside the legion learned of their treason, Magnelis would unleash his wrath upon their shield’s border.
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