Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(3)
It’s only fair that I own up to my part of the blame. Yet one more promise I haven’t been able to keep. It seems there have been a lot of those. Kedrick’s killer still roams free, after all.
Jimmy gives a miserable nod and a few tears run down his freckled cheeks. He moves off with dragging steps and I turn my attention to the Soar, loosening straps and snapping rods to take the taut pressure off the stretched material of the wings behind me.
I told Jovan and Olandon I had a plan when I left them on the castle roof. And I do. But whether the plan will work depends on Adox. If he refuses to let the people of the Ire help me, then all hope is lost. The two worlds will fight, to the loss of hundreds of lives. And this would just be the beginning. It wasn’t one battle my mother planned, it was a war. The Satums, similar to the ministers on Glacium, and the court revered my mother for her foresight in building up the food supplies. She’d spouted lie after lie about contingency plans in case the Fourth fires spread and burned Osolis to the ground. Now, I knew the truth.
The stores were war rations.
I doubted my people were aware of her deception, even now.
My mother wanted what every Tatum before her had coveted. She wanted Glacium’s materials, their stone and iron. And if I was correct, she wanted control over the people. Her own private workforce. Slaves. Even knowing all this, the invasion still made no sense. She hated the Bruma and could barely stand the First Rotation on our fiery homeland, let alone the extreme cold of this world. Glacium could be the only thing she might hate more than me.
I unfold my arms as low murmurs in the tent turn to shuffling. Adox is limping my way when I turn toward the sound. He appears older than last time I saw him. Does he lay awake at night wondering if his fears of discovery will come true? That the Ire will be exposed? Little does he know it has already come to pass.
“Willow, what brings you to the Ire? These are not good times to be soaring. The Tatum’s forces are making their way through the pathway. Apart from the traders, flying is restricted to the Ire only while the army passes below,” he says, glancing irritably at Jimmy. The boy takes the hint and scuttles over to his Soar to leave.
I feel my own flash of irritation. How long ago did the Ire’s scouts spot the army? How could Adox stand back and watch while two worlds killed each other? I swallow my anger and straighten under the seasoned leader’s gaze.
He’s not intimidating in the way I’m used to. With Jovan, it’s his power—his strength. With Adox, it’s his experience which makes my palms sweat.
“It’s for this reason I’m here,” I say, stepping forward. “We must talk.” I see how my words cause him to close. How they shutter his expression and put him on guard.
Adox’s father founded the Ire after his exile from Osolis. Those of mixed heritage were outcast from Osolis—a fact I’d been unaware of until I found this sanctuary. It was astonishing to discover so many of these people existed. People just like me. Some of the Ire could pass for Bruma, as I could, while others could pass for Solati, but those with obviously mixed features were unable to travel to the other worlds. Guilt sweeps through me as I realize it was probably my grandfather who exiled the founder of the Ire.
I follow Adox, watching with repressed impatience as he lights a fire. He’s trying to regain composure. Once the flames are going to his satisfaction, he lowers himself onto the smoothed stone seat across from me. He places his hands palm up on trousered knees and raises his head until his hard brown eyes meet mine over the fire.
“The Solati are coming through the … great stairway,” I begin lamely, tripping over the Bruma word for Oscala. He nods and I continue.
“I come from King Jovan. Tatum Avanna has tried to trick us with a peace message while she sends an army to slaughter us. I read the deceitful words myself.” This wasn’t strictly true, but I trusted Jovan. “She seeks control of Glacium, and has betrayed the Peace Accords to do so.” Adox frowns at this, but otherwise doesn’t move.
“War is assured if the army should reach Glacium,” I say. The words turn his growing suspicions into understanding.
“Of course they will reach Glacium,” he says in a harsh tone. “Unless they decide to turn around.”
My heart sinks. I’d depended on Adox’s desire to save lives—depended on his morality.
“They wouldn’t if the Ire stepped in,” I say softly. My words fall on deaf ears. They fall so hard I wish I could take them back and try a different strategy. His expression hardens until it looks like it could be carved from stone.
“You get to your point,” he says and leans back, observing. I resist the urge to fidget.
“You hold a position near to the king,” he guesses. I keep my face smooth. In truth, his question digs up memories I’m still trying to repress. I’ve been closer to Jovan than anyone can ever know.
“Yes. I do.” I leave it at that, hoping he’ll assume I am some kind of relation or advisor.
He takes in a breath, not meeting my eyes. “Have you told him of us?”
I ignore the thudding in my chest as my heart pounds. “No,” I say. I hear his long exhale of relief and close my eyes to finish. “But Jimmy soared through the food hall in the castle. The whole assembly saw him.” The damning words are out.
I open my eyes after a few seconds.
Adox sits frozen, his expression beyond horrified. He looks like I must have the first time I saw my face. His world has been upturned, and he cannot imagine what to do next. The floor beneath him has collapsed and caved inwards.