Page 30 of A Game of Monsters (Realm of Fey #4)
Peace never lasted long. One day it would, but for now, it was an impossibility. We could pretend for a few minutes, hours at most. But reality always came knocking. And it came in the form of Erix’s gryvern kin.
I felt sick to my core. I clutched at my stomach, unable to stand still, as the news continued to repeat in my head.
“Cassial knows exactly what he is doing,” I shouted as we burst out the farm’s doors, Erix and a cohort of his gryvern warriors following behind.
They’d arrived hours after Erix had fallen asleep, just as the pot of broth cooled, forgotten. I hadn’t had time to ladle it into bowls when I heard them arrive – bringing news from the frontlines.
“It is insurance to him,” Erix called after me, still visibly tired, but such details no longer mattered. “He is using innocent lives as a shield against the fey. It isn’t just about using the fey to further his campaign, that was never enough. But pitting them against the powerless humans, that is Cassial’s way of cementing his future. He will turn the fey into the monsters he needs them to be.”
I spun on one of the gryvern, the only one dressed in armour. “Are you confident this information is correct? We cannot afford to move on this unless you are sure.”
The gryvern bowed their head toward me. “I wouldn’t have brought this information to you unless I was completely sure, Your Majesty. We’ve checked through every dwelling as requested, attempting to move the humans away from the fight, using fear. But everywhere the gryvern have been is empty. I have personally got close enough to the Nephilim encampment to see the humans we searched for – men, women and children… hundreds if not thousands of them…”
Children. I couldn’t fathom it. Blindly led by the Creator’s promised warriors, but then used as a shield before them. That was where all these people had gone. I imagined the family this farm belonged to. How they left their home to stand between the Nephilim and the fey, not knowing the death that awaited them.
Cassial had put the people he was supposed to protect on the front line, a band of flesh and bone to separate them from our army lingering beyond Wychwood.
“He’s a monster . This is what Cassial has done with them all,” I snapped, wondering if the owner of this farm was also an unsuspecting victim of Cassial’s plans. Did the angels show up at their door, promising them salvation from the fey-monsters, offering the promise of the Creator as their protector?
Deep down, I knew the answer already.
“Have they been given weapons?” I asked, voice trembling. “Tell me they are at least prepared for the fight that Cassial is hoping for?”
“No.” The gryvern couldn’t look me in the eyes. “They haven’t. The humans are a shield, that is all. If the fey attack, the humans will die.”
“It would strengthen Cassial’s plans to ruin any hope of relations in the future,” Erix added, equally as distraught. “We will be the bloody killers, Cassial will continue pressing his agenda of being this Saviour.”
I snapped my attention to Erix and the other gryvern who flanked him. The rest, unlike the warrior I conversed with, were like mindless hounds, monstrous forms too far gone in their transformation to find humanity. Yes, Erix had control of them, but that still didn’t stop my heart from skipping whenever we caught eyes.
These creatures had killed my mother. The family I never met. They were Doran Oakstorm’s pets – twisted creations of his seed.
But just as Cassial was trying to paint the fey as monsters, I understood that such a feeling was all down to perspective. The gryvern were not monsters by choice. Just like Duwar was not a demon-god, but a power determined by how it was used.
“Then we must reach Wychwood now. I need to speak with the fey lines and inform them of this news,” I said, body practically erupting with unspent energy. “We must withdraw, but they will only do this with the order of a fey leader. I can’t be sure they will listen to anyone else but me.”
“If they see you, nothing will stop news of your survival reaching Cassial before our plan has been completed,” Erix reminded me.
“If Gyah has reached them by now, she would’ve told them,” I said.
There was a niggling thought in my mind. If Gyah had informed Wychwood that the Icethorn king still lived, why had we not seen a convoy sent to search for us?
“And if she hasn’t?” Erix voiced the same concern, likely noticing that one detail I had figured out.
“The lives of hundreds of humans are not worth the risk. Althea would say the same.” I could almost hear her voice in my ear, telling me that my decision was the right one. “No life, human or fey, is more important than any other. Regardless, our fight is against Cassial. Not the humans. Especially not humans who don’t hold a weapon or shield. Their faith in Cassial as their Saviour will not stop them from dying.”
But I can.
No one told me I was wrong, but that didn’t stop me from adding a final sentiment aloud. Perhaps I wasn’t even speaking to Erix or his gryvern, convincing them of what I was saying. Maybe those final words were solely meant for me.
“I’ve stopped a war between the realms before, I will do it again.”
“That you have,” Erix confirmed, the confidence he held for me made his gaze glow, his posture straighten. “We will reach the front lines and inform them of Cassial’s plan. No matter what, our armies must not attack. Doing so will only give Cassial reason to use Duwar against them.”
“Duncan, Gyah and Rafaela must be informed too,” I reminded him. “If they don’t know about this… it would ruin all hopes of retreat for those humans that Cassial is using. We need more time. We need another plan.”
With the news brought by the gryvern, my previous plan had crumbled to dust in our wake.
Erix nodded, his brow fixed in a harsh frown. “You heard your king; take this news to Duncan and his Faithful. Make sure all parties know of how Cassial is using the humans and put a hold to any planned attack until further commands are provided.”
Our fey would not survive the attack. Nor the humans. And I had no reason to believe that Cassial wouldn’t attack, even with the humans still positioned before him. At the chance of ridding the world of the fey, what was the cost of a few human lives? If anything, it would truly solidify us as monsters, setting a dark path for any who survived long enough to experience the type of future Cassial and his Fallen wanted.
“Then we go now,” I commanded. “To Wychwood.”
I thought of Duncan, who’d soon expect us. How would he react when we didn’t follow through with our signal? Without me, the rest of his Nephilim wouldn’t be able to reach Cassial. But I couldn’t encourage a war until the innocent lives were protected.
What good was the promise of a tomorrow – a new world – if we all couldn’t experience it?