Page 57 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

We slipped out of Stormshire in our spectre forms. Laryk's careful orchestration of the Guard's movements created the perfect cover for our escape—patrols strategically positioned just far enough apart to leave us a clear path to the rip. It felt like a victory, like the first real step toward change.

The flight back to Ravenfell was long, but my heart soared with every beat of Tryggar's wings. We'd done it. Not only had we destroyed the blood oaths, but we'd secured an alliance that could shift the tide of this war. Laryk's commitment to our cause meant more than just an allegiance—it meant hope. Real hope for both realms. Real fucking hope.

I'd sent word ahead through Raven's compact, requesting the team gather for an immediate briefing upon our arrival. I hadn't expected to find all four Generals waiting in the war room, Urkin's eyes narrowing as I entered. The disapproval radiating from him was palpable—clearly my unauthorized excursion to Sídhe hadn't earned me any favor.

Aether moved past me, handing the crate of healing potions to Rethlyn. "Get one of these to the infirmary immediately," he said. "To Lael."

Rethlyn nodded, already turning toward the door, but his eyes caught mine for a moment—a flash of relief crossing his features.

"Well?" Urkin's gruff voice drew my attention back to the table. "What did you find?"

I approached the center of the room, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. The weight of their stares didn't intimidate me now—not when I had such promising news to share.

"We've secured an alliance with General Laryk Ashford," I began, watching their expressions shift from skepticism to interest. "He's already positioning his forces to weaken the crown from within. And the blood oaths—“ I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "Destroyed. All of them."

Vexa let out a low whistle from her position near the wall. "You actually did it."

"There's more," I continued. "A resistance is already growing in Sídhe. People who have seen through the lies, or those who had suffered their own misfortune at the hand of the crown, who want to help restore balance. Who want real change." The words carried all the hope I felt burning in my chest. "We're not alone in this fight anymore."

Urkin's jaw tightened. "And you trust these... allies? This… General?" His voice carried decades of skepticism. "The same people who've benefited from the theft of our essence?"

"These are people who have woken up. Who have been told of Sídhe's deception. Who believe it," I countered. "Once others learn the truth?—"

"If they learn the truth," Theron cut in, his analytical mind clearly running through every possible outcome. "How many will turn against their own King?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "but they deserve to have the knowledge before they make their decision. We would be the monsters they claim us to be if we needlessly kill the blind," I said, the command in my voice a shock to me.

Urkin's eyes met mine, but I didn't find resistance.

"We want the truth to spread so that we can create cracks in the undying fealty to the crown. Because the more people we have on our side, the better. But do not mistake my hesitation for weakness. Or ignorance," I continued, taking a few steps towards the Generals. "Those who choose to stay loyal to the King will suffer the same fate as their monarch. I know that this won't end in some pretty, perfect solution devoid of violence. I understand the weight of our goal. We're going to overthrow a Kingdom that's been established for centuries."

The room was silent, all eyes focused on me. Slowly, I turned to Aether, who was looking at me with that same expression from the trials—sitting back, his eyes black and narrowed, his jaw set, and mouth curved into something like a smile. Pride. Of the darkest variety.

Urkin stood then, gazes shifting to him as he approached the front of the room. The familiar creak of his leather boots seemed louder in the sudden quiet.

"I returned from Stravene this morning," he said, his rough voice carrying an edge I couldn't quite place. "The Council was... interested in the evidence Aether collected regarding your lineage."

General Karis rose then, his expression unreadable. "The Umbra forces find the evidence to be indisputable." His tone carried the weight of authority, but his face morphed into something more gentle as he looked at me. "All of the General's agree on this—that we find your claim to be legitimate."

"Her knowledge of Sídhe has been invaluable," Talon added from his corner, fingers drumming against the stack of archives before him. "The risk she took infiltrating their Guard?—"

"A Duskbound has always sat on the throne in Umbrathia," General Taliora cut in, shaking her head as if alluding to something obvious. "Always."

"As you can see, you have our support." Urkin's jaw tightened slightly. "However..."

"What is the hesitation?" Aether's voice was sharp as he rose from his seat.

I watched as Taliora and Talon shared a look that made my stomach twist. Whatever was coming, it was clearly not what we were hoping for.

"The Council," Urkin cut in, "are wary."

"Of course they are." Vexa's exasperation cut through the tension as she drove her dagger into the wooden table before her.

"Fia did not grow up here." Karis's voice was measured, diplomatic. "She's spent very little time with our people. They question her ability to lead."

"Every ruler has descended from this single bloodline." Rethlyn stepped forward, something like pride coloring his face. "It's her right."

"Well, that presents another issue entirely." Urkin's eyes found mine. "They understand the evidence is compelling, however, they do not believe it to be enough to solidify your claim."

I should have felt the same indignation that flashed across my companions' faces, but I couldn't summon it. The truth was it still didn't feel real even to me. The Council's doubts merely echoed my own—how could someone who'd spent their whole life as an outsider suddenly claim to be heir to a throne they’d never known existed?

"There has to be a way to convince them." Raven's voice broke through my thoughts. "Something we missed in the archives, tethers that work with blood magic, something ."

"They assured me they would be looking into it," Karis offered.

"She was the one who discovered the truth about siphons. She's the one who imbued the arcanite." Effie's eyes blazed. "They will have to reconsider once they?—"

Urkin silenced her with a raised hand. "We will present all of this to them. And we will find a solution. But until then, there are bigger things to be concerned over." His gaze settled on me again. "The threat of Sídhe and the threat of Draxon, all spiraling towards us at once. Even with Fia's accomplishments across the rip."

"The Council," Urkin continued, shifting his weight as he leaned against the table, "deemed it my decision how much authority you should hold over the Umbra forces."

Anxiety coiled in my gut as glances were exchanged around the room. Even Vexa's blade had finally stopped thrumming.

"I think," he said, measuring each word, "that if you agree to stop going rogue on missions, and actually communicate effectively with the rest of us—the Generals and the spectres—we can work together. Your say will be equal to our own."

My breath caught as he straightened, his weathered face softening slightly. "Because despite the Council's hesitation, we believe you to be the heir to the throne. And it will only be a matter of time before you ascend." He gestured around the room. "Until then, we have battles still to be fought. And I think we'll be better for it if we're doing this with you by our side."

Relief swept through me as Urkin nodded, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

"We need to plan," he said, "but the hour is late, and you all need your rest." His eyes swept the room one final time. "You're dismissed."

As the others filed out, Urkin held me back with a raised hand, Karis lingering behind him. Aether stayed by the door, his golden eyes sharp in the candlelight.

"There's something else." Urkin's voice dropped low. "Ilsthyre, South of Draxon. It was supposed to be abandoned, but our scouts report increased military presence. "

"How increased?" Aether moved closer to study the map Urkin had spread across the table.

"Double the guard rotations we'd expect from Valkan's forces. Supply wagons moving in under heavy escort, but nothing comes out." Urkin's finger traced the settlement's location. "And it's all continued after Valkan's death. If anything, security's gotten tighter."

"Who's giving the orders?" I asked.

"His brother, Verick, we assume." The name stirred something in my foggy memories of Draxon.

My head ached as I tried to grasp at the fragments—a conversation I'd overheard through a haze of pain and blood loss. Something about Verick... about him struggling with a new position.

"What do we know about him?" I asked, frustrated by the gaps in my mind.

"Not much." Urkin shared a look with Aether. "He's always been in Valkan's shadow. Never showed much interest in politics or military command."

Something else tickled at the edge of my consciousness. A word that made my skin crawl, though I couldn't remember why. Blood rot .

"Whatever it is, they're guarding it fiercely." Urkin's voice carried an edge of concern. "A weak leader desperate to prove himself, with access to whatever resources Valkan left behind..."

"Could be even more dangerous than his brother," Aether finished quietly.

I studied the map, trying to ignore the growing unease in my gut. "We have to keep watching," I said. "Every wagon, every guard change. The smallest detail might matter."

Urkin nodded, but his expression remained grim. "Despite these new developments, the situation remains... volatile but unchanged." Urkin's fingers traced the edge of a marker on the map. "His supporters haven't made any moves against us. But we've doubled our Sentinels around our borders in preparation. They are ready to defend Ravenfell."

"Our scouts move through the wasteland between territories," Karis added, his scarred face grim. "In endless circuits, watching for any sign of retaliation against the capital."

Urkin's jaw tightened. "They're waiting for something. Building their forces, perhaps. Or looking for the right moment to strike." He shared a look with the other Generals. "But when they do..."

"They'll find us ready, Your Grace." Karis turned to look at me, eyes deadly serious.

Urkin straightened, and when our eyes met, his stern expression had softened. "Any disturbance at our borders, any whisper of movement from Draxon—you'll know immediately."