Page 44 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

The princess glided to the other side of the balcony railing in a true overseer’s gait, scanning her city.

“He is a student of King Ido, our first great ruler, brother to Izadora the savior. He is strong, wise, and resilient. Even in his current condition. He will not bow down so easily. He may have lost today, but he has not lost himself. On any other day, you would see that. You needn’t hail from here to understand—whoever sits on Maradenn’s throne willingly shoulders the weight of every King and Queen before them.

They accept the impossible burden of unimpeachable ghosts.

Above all, he is loyal to those legends who kept our light shining, even when darkness itself threatened to invade our walls. ”

Her persistence was that of a trained politician, demanding attention and lulling her audience in with harmonious delivery. Inspiring, yet Ingrid couldn’t help but see the other side. The drama of it, so overtly confident despite all evidence to the contrary.

“You mean he still wants to fight?” Ingrid asked.

“I mean to say that he will not quit. My brother had the love of the people and the support of the high council. He was next in line to rule. My father made sure of it. The only ambition that equaled the king’s love of my mother was the desire to keep Maradenn under the control of his name—our name.

A thousand-year rule under the banner of Gens Morelitt.

It was his greatest dream. A dream that has now been taken from him by Makkar, by the same man he claims to want peace with.

If a better option is presented to him, if an ally proves themselves worthy of fighting alongside his army, I think he will rebel. ”

At the words, something had shifted drastically in the room.

“You want us to prove ourselves?” Tyla asked. “Is that what this is all about?”

Callinora kept her eyes conveniently fixed on the city below.

“I want to help you, young world-walker. Since the moment I saw you bickering outside my castle gate, I’ve only wanted to help.

” Her voice was impassive, and though it could’ve meant many things, Ingrid felt it in her bones that the princess was hesitant to reveal specifics.

The diplomatic mask was slipping. Her motive for admitting them into the throne room, and then her private chambers of all places, was becoming clear. She wanted something in return, something valuable enough to justify this risk.

“Suspense is not my intent,” Callinora continued.

“But I must offer you this advice before you hear my proposal.” She pointed out beyond her kingdom’s walls, to the wilderness awaiting them if they should choose to leave.

“Past that barrier, you will only find enemies. Maradenn is the final holdout. There are a few toothless allies of Makkar’s in the smaller kingdoms to the East, but make no mistake, any dissent will be promptly squashed.

Only our walls, only our army keep Makkar from claiming complete dominion over Ealis.

This war has made most other kingdoms frightened beyond recognition.

They won’t care who sent you or what your intentions may be. Only that you are an unknown.”

Raidinn arrogantly protested at the perceived insult, “We won’t be unknown for long, I promise you that.”

Tyla gave him a slight nudge. “I thought we were speaking plainly?” she asked the princess. “So ask plainly. What do you want?”

“You mean, what does my father want?” Callinora placed a hand over her gold-wrapped neck, trying to appear sympathetic.

“I can only guess, but a show of strength and loyalty seems inevitable. Men like my father would rather ally with an army of Wranes than an army of world-walkers. They do not see you as equals. Even those who spent their whole lives here. If you leave Ealis to live among humans, you are seen as a coward.”

Ingrid noted the omission of the princess’s own feelings on the matter. On every matter, come to think of it. Callinora had shown moments of support for them, yet it was carefully placed under the guise of objective reasoning.

“Do you want us to help?” Ingrid asked bluntly.

“Yes. We can use all the help we can get.” Callinora tossed the vague affirmation to her like a coin to a beggar. “But again, there’s little I can do to sway the king. That will be on you to accomplish.”

She reached again for the oval ring on her index finger, this time lifting her hand and flashing the sparkling ornament for all to see.

Microscopic jewels adorned the edges of two overlapping golden circles.

It was much larger than Ingrid had initially gathered, and under the center stone was a locket of some kind.

“This was my husband’s. Arynn.” Callinora’s eyes, now partially hidden by the locks of hair hanging over her forehead, flitted downward. With a gentle click, she opened the locket and revealed a small, glowing blue gem.

Callinora stared longingly at it as she spoke.

“On the night he was to set sail to Iberium, he gave it to me. A piece of me , he said. Not entirely serious, of course—he never is. Yet, it made it all the more memorable. Arryn was never one for poetry, metaphor, or even words in general.” The hardness in her unreadable face went soft suddenly, smiling at a joke only she knew the punchline to.

“The necklace would’ve been enough. It was inherited from his late mother.

But the sentimental meaning he gave to it… a piece of him.”

She closed the locket with a rushed jab, then placed the hand wearing it behind her back, concealing the gem’s bright light and hiding that flash of vulnerability all at once.

“Bring Arynn home to me,” she said. “Give hope back to my father that his dream might still come true. A grandchild, to be molded as my brother was. As his heir. And I have no doubt that my father will let your army through our portal. Do this, and Maradenn will forever be in your debt.”

Silence.

Even Raidinn couldn’t find a response.

They had barely settled, barely eaten, barely slept, and now they were being asked to go out on yet another journey. A journey that would take Mother knew how long.

Yes, silence was all they could muster.

Almost on cue, the stillness in the room was interrupted by a large bell coming from the center of the city.

The instrument hung high up in one of the watchtowers they’d all passed by on the walk to the main castle.

Ingrid thought of the church next door to it, then she thought about the strange quiet on their walk to the castle.

How the entire population had been silent in remembrance. Except Callinora.

The princess, by her own admission, had been walking about all morning. It didn’t seem right. Where had she gone to in the city? What was she doing out there when her father, clearly unstable and unpredictable, was grieving at home?

Ingrid shelved that line of thought, just for the moment, and broke the long silence by asking, “How long has your husband been gone?”

The short answer was: “Nearly a half-year.” But Callinora had said it so flatly, so ominously, that no one thought to follow up.

They only waited for Callinora to go on.

“He and his crew were shipwrecked. Attacked. After washing ashore, they were captured and wrongly held prisoner by the usurper Enitha.”

Dean looked to Tyla.

Then Tyla looked to Raidinn, confusion apparent in their faces.

Callinora informed them, “Enitha rules the Isles.”

“Is it not Horace?” Tyla asked.

Raidinn, equally as shocked, added, “His family has ruled the stone temple for centuries.” There was a touch of melancholy in his voice. “Have the Occi Isles allied with Makkar?”

“We don’t know how deep their loyalty runs,” Callinora replied. “All we know is that Enitha has pledged to his cause. The Occi Isles, if called upon, would have to fight against any rebellion.”

The Occi Isles. The path Tyla had scouted the morning of their departure.

She had mentioned it as a sort of paradise, where even her human-obsessed father wanted to take them to see at least once in their lives.

A place separated from the infighting of the mainland, and more importantly, rumored to be unaffected by the scourge.

Tyla had wanted to know if the infection had spread to the outskirts of Peloria Forest in case they needed to take another route. But the mission had been for naught. Ungii were swarming the region, closing off a safe road to what she’d thought was a haven.

Dean, making no secret of his ignorance, asked, “I’ve never heard of Queen Enitha, but I imagine she has built quite an army if you and your father couldn’t do what you ask of us?”

He’d hit the perfect note between bluntness and unassuming curiosity, yet Callinora still clenched, a barely visible wrinkle creasing between her eyes.

“Sending the army would leave Maradenn unguarded,” the princess said.

“We sent one of our strongest legions, just a few ships, and they were defeated upon arrival. And the second, slightly larger legion we sent… the only soldier that returned came to us in a very small box, with a message that read: any more, and not one Maradenn ship will survive the Jemii sea .”

“Sorry…” Dean held up a hand. “Could you expand?”

“Expand on what?”

“Literally all of it,” Ingrid chimed in.

Callinora took a long breath. “You see, we need the route to Iberium open. It is crucial for our people.”

It was the only route that connected Maradenn to the fruitful free lands to the far west. Since the disease and the Ungii spread to the inland rivers and forests, their trade was heavily relied upon.

Without it, half his population would starve within a matter of months—a consequence of being so tactfully isolated between the sea and the harsh mountains.