Page 93 of Exiled Heir

He’s used too much magic, too quickly, Basil hissed.Help him.

I wasn’t even sure how to begin to help him. I leaned against him, taking his weight, letting my fingers linger as I looped one of his arms over my shoulders.

He slumped, trembling against me. This was the first time I had ever seen him weak. Even when he was losing control, shattering windows, his magic spilling off his skin like ink, he was never weak.

“Can you hold out for the rest of the mages to get here?” I asked, my voice low so the dryad elder wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Yes.” He swallowed hard, and he got his feet back under him, straightening. With his knees locked, he trembled, gasping in enormous breaths of air.

The dryad elder circled the gargoyles, observing them with dull wooden eyes. Finally, she approached us, and I felt Cade tense against me. I used the hand wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, give him stability.

“Prince Bartlett. I am glad to see you again, glad to have your support in this battle.” She nodded her head.

“I’m sorry the guards I sent to protect you fled to the house. They needed to alert the rest of us.” Cade’s voice was rough, but it strengthened the more he talked.

“I think we both understand the guards were not there to protectus,” the elder said dryly. She shook her head, leaves rustling. “Since I have you alone, I must tell you. This is not the first time we have been attacked recently.”

Cade straightened on his own, his brows drawing together. “What do you mean? Other gargoyles?”

“This is the first time we have seen these creatures. They are not native to these parts. But humans and… something we do not recognize are carving up our forest. Tearing it apart.” It was hard to read her expression, the wood giving it a statuesque stillness.

“What did they say when you confronted them?” Cade asked.

“That is the crux of it. We have not been able to catch them. They come, destroy trees precious to us, and disappear before we can find them.”

Cade inhaled another breath, ready to ask more questions, but there was a loud pop, and twenty mages with a dozen shifted werewolves appeared.

The wolves immediately circled the captive gargoyles. They were led by a massive wolf, his shoulder coming up to my elbow. He was gray, with bright yellow eyes, spittle dripping from his open lips.

By scent, I knew who he was: Tyson.

Isaac jogged across the battlefield, taking in the shredded trees, the smoking bits of rock on the ground. “You took out four gargoyles by yourself?”

Cade’s face was just as stony as the gargoyles. Leon appeared at his elbow, a familiar wolf at his side.

“Take the gargoyles in. Lock them up as best you can.” Cade turned to Leon. “Summon the council of war.”

ChapterThirty

The war council was held in the same room as the rest of the council sessions. Only six people were invited, several who weren’t on the house council, and the rest of House Bartlett mages dismissed until Cade decided on a course of action.

Petrona took her usual seat, but Sonja sat in the seat to Leon’s right. Isaac was there at Cade’s insistence, despite Leon’s reminder that his position was informal and he wasn’t on house council. He chose the chair to Cade’s left and jerked his head to the seat on Cade’s right.

I frowned at him. I’d been watching, and it was very clear that werewolves were not supposed to sit at the council table. Isaac raised both of his eyebrows, and I shrugged.

Cade, who hadn’t seemed to be paying attention to us at all, tapped his finger pointedly at the spot next to him. I pulled out the chair, the legs scraping loudly on the floor, and sat.

The older guard who had been with the dryads arrived with another woman behind him. Pale robes dragged on the floor as she walked, and her eyes seemed to stare beyond us even as she nodded to the other mages at the table.

The guard guided her to a seat before taking his own, and I struggled to remember their names. Cade helped solve the issue.

“Finley, report,” he said. Sweat had dried to his brow, leaving Cade’s skin tacky and pale.

Across the table, Leon looked over Cade’s face, a tense expression tightening his mouth. With a gesture of his fingers, he wrote something in the air, the words disappearing into nothingness.

Within seconds, a plate of cheese, crackers, and some fruit appeared in front of Cade. Absently, Cade grabbed a cube of cheese and put it in his mouth.

Finley stood, clearing his throat. He wore the high-necked shirt of a mage, but everything else about his outfit spoke of combat professionalism. The cargo pants, the weapons holster at his waist, the heavy boots.