Page 12 of The Gathering

Rhaif sat down in his chair, and Nyssa let the book slap shut in her hand.

“Why are you being an ass?” she found herself blurting.

Rhaif’s brow lifted, obviously taken aback by her abrupt questioning. “An ass?” he repeated, shifting in his seat. “We have a load of strangers and people of all races arriving in our kingdom in two days. Meals to be prepared. Decor to choose. Wardrobe fittings. Cleaning of rooms that haven’t been used in decades. A Council who is not fond of the idea of us letting in these people…” Rhaif slumped back in the chair.

“Honestly, little sister, if an ass is all I have been, then I believe I am succeeding in hiding my anxiety,” and she swore she heard banter in his dark tone. When she met his eyes, she saw a smile in them, and she realized she was right.

Nyssa huffed, feeling her shoulders relax a little. “Right… Sorry,” she said. “Is there anything I can help with?”

However, Rhaif waved her off. “Don’t worry yourself with these tedious duties. Your brother will be our taste tester tomorrow for food, and I will meet Drae in the market to find decor.”

“What do you need from me?”

For a moment, Rhaif didn’t reply. His fingers strummed on the edge of the leather chair, and Nyssa wondered what was going on in his working mind.

“Come with me,” he said as he stood.

Nyssa watched him move past her to the back of the room, where shadows covered one of the bookshelves. He shifted two books and pushed in one, causing the wall to move.

She followed behind when he gestured for her to join, hesitant and wary of the new room and how he was acting. But as she stepped inside, moons’ light flowed in from the two open windows and cascaded upon a grand table in the middle.

A table in the shape of Haerland.

Nyssa hardly got an adequate look at the rest of the room as she became entranced by the table. She found herself stepping up to it, fingertips tingling at the mere sight of it.

It was a war map.

Soldier figurines were stationed at Magnice and in each of the villages. Every territory was marked on the wood, with the names of every town.

“What is this?” she managed to say.

“Your future,” Rhaif said as he handed her a cup of wine.

She hesitantly took it, but she didn’t drink, and Rhaif leaned his hips against the dresser behind him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Rhaif took a long sip, pausing for his gaze to wander over the map, then pointed to it. “Tell me what you see.”

Nyssa wondered at the intricacy of the drawing as she began to walk around it. She heard her eagle landing on the sill of the open window and felt him watching over her, memorizing that map just as she was, taking note of every town, every dividing line… the giver trees, the positions of the soldier figurines, the horses, and the flags.

The mountains, her eagle called to her.

She followed her eagle’s eyes, and as she did, she noted the figures stationed just east of Magnice, turned toward the mountains as though he were keeping an eye on it.

Or perhaps something worse.

Her fingers trickled over those soldiers, and her lashes lifted to Rhaif. “Shouldn’t we be more focused on the strangers?” Nyssa asked, knowing without asking what his plans were.

“These strangers are an exaggeration,” Rhaif said, holding her gaze. “Do you really think the Venari and the Honest would admit to needing help? They mean to ambush us.”

Nyssa shifted beneath the confidence in his tone. “Drae fought the strangers,” she managed to argue, feeling uneasy. “Are you calling her a liar?”

Rhaif stepped forward and bent over the table, pushing one of the soldier figurines, making it face the southeast from the Village of Dreams. “War is a dance of distractions, little sister….” His palms pressed into the table, and he looked up at her, eyes darkened. “Eyes open.”

She didn’t reply, but she walked around the map again, moving to the side with the Forest. And she realized then what he wanted from her.

“Who am I to watch?” she asked.