Page 55 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

By the second day following their return from the northern shore, there was little more than a slight twinge in Callan’s side when he moved.

Other than an itchy sensation around the newly formed scar, he felt more or less normal.

Eir, the healer, had practically chased Nova from his room when she discovered them in bed together, limbs tangled.

She’d dealt Callan a severe tongue-lashing for ignoring her strict orders to rest.

It was worth it.

After breakfast, Callan found himself in the Noble Lord’s study again, the intimate space crowded with Nox seated behind his desk and Nova and Lucan occupying the twin leather armchairs across from him.

Callan tucked himself away across the room, leaning an elbow on the mantel and wondering why every room seemed to be outfitted with a fireplace despite Silvergard’s mild climate.

Nova had allowed her uncle to peer into her mind to hear for himself every word General Idrian had spoken to her.

Callan was glad he would never hear the general’s words firsthand.

The flames of his anger had been sufficiently fanned by the brief synopsis Nova had shared with him.

The general was a coward, eager to sacrifice Nova’s life to fulfill his own selfish desires.

“Our scouts have returned,” Lucan reported. “Idrian remains near Schadwen Mountain. A small number of reinforcements have arrived there. The troops have set up an encampment beside the Gloaming Sea.”

“How many reinforcements?” Callan asked, looking up from the needless fire.

“Roughly fifty additional soldiers,” Lucan answered, twisting in his chair to face him.

“More will follow,” Nova said. “My father may only want me, but Idrian wants all of Silvergard. If he succeeds in taking the throne, he won’t stop at our borders. Nivali and Sonnend will be next.”

“I believe we’re all in agreement: There is no scenario in which Idrian can be left unchecked,” Nox said, steepling his fingers before his face, eyes narrowed as he stared off into the middle distance. “As I see it, we have no choice but to head to the Gloaming Sea and put down this rebellion.”

“I saw many more soldiers posted around the Estate today.” Callan leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “How many have arrived to protect the capital?”

Lucan launched into a further report. “Two hundred troops arrived yesterday from the Shadowcrest District. We’ve placed them throughout the Estate and the surrounding city. Patrols are riding out in shifts to monitor the coast to the west and the dunes to the north, east, and south.”

“More are coming,” Nox added. “Unfortunately, with such a credible threat against the throne, it will be at least a week before we can afford to spare any forces to travel north.”

“We don’t have a week,” Nova insisted. “Idrian knows he’s lost the element of surprise. He knows his only option is to amass whatever forces he can cobble together and strike as soon as possible. Before we’re able to form a strong defense or launch an attack of our own.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the three males nodding in agreement with Nova’s assessment.

“Maybe we can remove Idrian as a threat without launching a full-scale attack,” Lucan suggested. “If we move quickly with the right crew, we could have this rebellion wiped out before it has a chance to grow legs.”

“It’s a shame the other territories would never risk sending forces into Silvergard,” Nox said, smiling faintly at his niece. “Now would be an excellent time to have friends.”

Callan considered Nox’s words for a moment before making a low grunt of agreement and heading for the door.

“You may be onto something,” he said to the Noble Lord. “Give me a few hours to see what I can do.”

Several hours later, Callan paced back and forth in the sitting area of the library, his eyes flicking to the door roughly once every minute.

Two letters had traveled south on the wings of messenger owls, soaring on strong tailwinds.

He hadn’t told the others who he’d summoned in case they didn’t show.

Nova sat on the sofa, a book balanced in her hands, though he hadn’t seen her turn a page in some time.

Lucan lounged beside her—asleep, judging from the occasional wheezing coming from his general direction.

Nox’s hand skimmed over a piece of white parchment, a stub of charcoal scratching softly as he sketched the sleeping commander.

Despite his nerves, Callan smiled at the domestic scene.

Abandoning the path he was slowly wearing through the rug, he stood beside Nova and laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

She tilted her head, briefly laying her cheek against his fingers, before looking up at him with a distracted smile.

He knew her apprehension rivaled his own; she was simply accustomed to doing her pacing in her mind.

The heavy door to the library suddenly swung open, the noise startling them all. Lucan woke with a snarl and sprang to his feet. They all turned sharply to face the entryway, and Callan grinned at the familiar faces of his cousins.

Nova’s mouth fell open as Fawn entered the library with her brown eyes wide and trained on the enormous shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling. Evander stopped just inside the doorway, suspiciously scanning the great room.

“My gods, this place is incredible.” Fawn’s gaze found Nova, who wasted no time racing over and pulling her friend into an embrace.

Nova took a step back and gave Fawn a once-over, her eyes catching on the razor-sharp throwing knives strapped to her friend, five on each thigh.

“Close your mouth, Nova,” Fawn scolded playfully. “I’m two hundred and fifty years old. Surely, you didn’t think I’d spent every day of my life with my nose buried in a book.”

Beaming, Nova introduced Fawn to Nox and Lucan. Before the introductions were even finished, Fawn pushed past the males to stand before Nova’s portrait, which leaned against the wall waiting to be hung.

“This piece is stunning.”

“It’s my most recent work,” Nox said proudly.

“ You painted it?” Fawn asked. “Did you paint all of these, or are you a curator? I saw several sculptures on the way in. Are you a sculptor as well?”

Nox shot a sideways look at Nova, eyes seemingly saying, Help me.

She shrugged in apology and returned to Callan’s side.

Evander sauntered over to where she and Callan stood together, hands shoved in his pockets.

He carried a quiver of arrows across his back and his longbow hooked over one shoulder.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” Callan said, clapping his cousin on the back.

“Someone owed Fawn a favor. She bullied the poor bastard into conjuring a portal.”

“Why did no one tell me Fawn has weapons training?” Nova asked.

“Don’t be fooled. The knives are more of a parlor trick,” Callan said, his hand roaming from the base of her neck to her lower back. “Fawn is the most powerful fire wielder I’ve ever known.”

Nova glanced at Evander, expecting him to refute Callan’s assessment of his sister’s skills, but he was busy studying them.

“So ... the two of you are fu—”

“Yes,” Callan interrupted before his cousin could say something crass. He wrapped his arm around Nova’s waist. “We’re together.”

Her heart fluttered at the word .

“About time,” Lucan chimed in. Inserting himself into the conversation, he fixed Evander with an appraising stare. “You’d have to be a complete idiot to miss the way these two have been pining for one another.”

Evander smirked and clasped his hands behind his back.

“And how did you know?” Nova asked Lucan.

“Wolves have a nose for these things.” He shrugged, shooting Callan a sly look.

Nova raised an eyebrow at Callan, but he only shook his head.

Just then, a servant entered the library, announcing the arrival of additional visitors.

As the servant stepped aside, Arik strode through the door.

A dozen Nivalian warriors, a mix of males and females, filed in behind him.

Each one stood as tall and solid as a stone column.

All were outfitted with thick brown leather armor, some carrying swords, others with axes hanging from their belts. Callan embraced his oldest friend.

Nova would never understand how Callan could doubt his own valor and the devotion his folk felt toward him. These warriors had crossed into what was considered enemy territory without hesitation, simply because he’d called for their aid.

Introductions were made all around, the usually silent library alive with voices.

“Excuse me!” Fawn called out, clapping her hands loudly. “I believe time is of the essence. Perhaps Cal should explain why he’s summoned us all here with such urgency.”

The room quieted with everyone listening intently and occasionally asking questions as Callan explained their predicament.

Lucan, Nox, and Nova interjected from time to time with additional information.

Once everyone had been briefed on the growing threat to not only Silvergard but all the territories of Aemoria, Callan laid out the strategy the four of them had devised earlier.

With only fifty or so soldiers encamped along the Gloaming Sea, a small group of well-trained warriors could conceivably take the enemy by surprise and corner them with their backs against the water.

Evander would lead a small group of Silvergardian archers to higher ground and mount an attack from above with Schadwen Mountain providing a suitable vantage point.

The Nivalian warriors, led by Arik and Lucan, would surround the encampment and engage in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy soldiers on the ground.

Fawn would incinerate any stockpiled weapons and supplies stored at the camp, while Nova and Callan located and dealt with General Idrian.