Page 55 of Crown of Wings (Fang & Fire #2)

Fortiss cuts him off, his gaze still hard on me.

“Why did Gent venture into the Western Realms, even briefly? I didn’t know he could do that.

You’d like to think that if traveling into enemy territory was something so easily done, we could have made that attempt any time over the last five hundred years and routed out these creatures for good.

But we didn’t. Why not? What did you see? ”

“You act as if I had anything to do with it,” I snap back, fully irritated.

“He leapt, and my mind leapt with him. And as to what’s over there—there’s nothing, Fortiss.

Absolutely nothing. It’s as barren as a graveyard, without even the bones to indicate that anything once lived there.

As far as I could see—as far as Gent could see, anyway—there was nothing but gray sand.

I couldn’t even see the skrill, but they would have been tough to spot from that height.

I certainly didn’t see the shadow creatures like the one I saw in Rihad’s fireplace, the Sahktar. There just—was nothing.”

I decide to omit any mention of the golden spark in the midst of all that desolation. Now, thinking back, I realize it’s possible I never really saw it.

Tennet makes a face. “Why would anyone want to go there?”

“Because there’s a mighty power buried in that sand,” Fortiss says grimly.

“Or at least…that’s what I’m getting from Daggar’s books.

It’s hidden, but it’s there. It can be drawn upon by any who know the ancient ways.

Neither Divh nor human can survive in the realm for long, because neither of us can live in total darkness, but?—”

“Except we do.” Tennet scratches his jaw, waving a negligent hand as we turn toward him.

“We live in darkness every night. And just look at the way these Savasci have been living. They’ve tunneled into the mountains to protect themselves.

It’s dark inside their caves. I’ve checked.

And yes, they’ve got fire, but all around that tiny island of light is darkness.

We focus so much on living in the Light, maybe there’s something to be said for adding a little more of the shadow. ”

“You’re speaking sacrilege,” Fortiss reminds him, and Tennet shrugs.

“I had dinner with illusions last night that told me stories that I believed. I watched them eat and drink—and I ate and drank alongside them, even though now, I couldn’t tell you a single thing I ate last night until we broke into councilor Miriam’s supplies.

They put us on real, live horses that somehow didn’t balk at this abomination and rode us to our doom.

Magic is also sacrilege, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful—as you yourself have already proven. ”

He rocks back on his heels, dropping his hands to his belt. One day, I will master this move, I promise myself. “Besides, you can’t ignore an enemy forever, Fortiss. You either kill it or you control it, and we’re not doing either here.”

“For now, I’d be happy if you just helped us contain it.” Syril’s words interrupt us, and Tennet shifts to the right to let her into our group, even as he folds his arms over his heavy chest in clear disapproval. I’m not sure what he’s disapproving of, but there’s no denying his attitude.

Syril squares against her shoulders and confronts Fortiss.

“If we don’t remove the skrill from the Eighth House and destroy them completely—chasing them back through the Unlit Pass and into the Western Realms, and sealing off the wall again—they’ll eventually adapt to life in the sun.

Even now, we find more carcasses every morning, snakes trying to see how far they can survive in the sunlight.

Each morning, they get a little farther before they succumb, and sometimes we find none at all. ”

“Where do they go?” Tennet has instinctively shifted forward as if he’s about to be called into battle.

“We don’t know, but we suspect that those are the winged ones.

They’ve certainly shown they can travel along the edges of the Blessed Plane for long enough to reach the houses in the center of the Protectorate.

How much farther they can get is anyone’s guess, but they’re out, and they’re exploring. ”

“But how can they do that?” I ask. “I thought they had to be summoned?”

“From talonstone to grounding stone,” Fortiss says, and I make a face. He’s right. Of course he’s right.

Syril nods. “It doesn’t matter how, in the end. If we don’t return them beyond the barrier, we won’t have the luxury of figuring out how to destroy them entirely.”

“From the looks of things, we tried the barrier approach once before,” Tennet puts in. “Yet here we are.”

She shoots Tennet a scornful glance. “Here we are fully five hundred years later, yes. I’m willing to wait another six months with them safely shut away, so we can find a permanent solution born of wisdom and not of crisis.”

Tennet flushes, but says nothing more, and Fortiss gestures to the larger group. There’s no disputing his quiet command, and I struggle to keep my emotions in check, my face neutral. “You know what’s been happening here, Syril. Tell us what we need to know.”