Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(87)

“How’s that gonna work?” Ice says in a loud whisper. “He’s so big, and the girly’s so small.” A loud slap and sniggers follow.

I wonder if I can avoid the gaze of everyone in the room. Is it possible the advisors are more shocked by our kiss than the news that the Solati army has been sighted?

“Here,” Jovan says. He moves into the back corner and retrieves two short swords. I take them gently, a lump in my throat.

“T-thank you,” I say lamely. This is one time I’m not going to try to resist the urge to run. I make to rush out of the tent. An arm rips me back.

“Your veil,” Olandon says. I look up at him and flinch at the judgment I see there. Now I’m a traitor and a whore. I hurriedly pull the material from my tunic and jam it, and the band, over my head before making my escape, leaving Jovan to the mercy of his blustering council.

The battlefield is in an uproar. The stench of fear is thick.

“What’s happening?” I ask in a calm voice. Shard answers.

“There’s maybe … two hundred of them standing on the Great Stairway. They’re not moving, just watching. Like…” he trails off.

“Like they’re waiting for something?” I ask. The Solati army is giving the Elite time to slaughter all the people I’ve come to know over the last three sectors. Cassius is trying to distract the king of Glacium from the real game.

“So few?” someone remarks behind me. “They’ve got no chance.”

The person shows their inexperience with the comment. It will be a close battle.

“Maybe the others are hiding, or still to come,” another answers.

“Maybe they couldn’t feed everyone with the delay.”

Somewhere up there, Cassius stands sneering down at us. I hope he can see me. I hope he can feel how much I want to stay and disembowel him, slowly, bit by bit. But, to his immense luck, our meeting is to be delayed once more. “We need to go now,” I say over the clamor. I can’t speak to Jovan again, or I fear my resolve will break.

The seven chosen men crowd around me as I make for the edge of the campsite. I know Shard will have his eyes sharpened for signs of attack against me. I reach the tree line and remove my veil, taking a few precious moments to squint back at the battlefield. I gasp at the sight and take an involuntary step back. Being told is one thing. Seeing for myself is another.

My people are there. My mother’s army! They stand tall and straight, and in perfect formation, making the neat rows of tents between us look like a messy heap. The army is a formidable and impenetrable force.

Any sane ruler would be proud.

Why then, are all of my thoughts for the Glacium king and of the goodbye I never gave him?





Chapter Twenty


We take an entirely different path back to the castle. Rhone leads the group, setting a punishing pace. Unlike the sluggish walk here with the cavalry, the eight of us race through Glacium’s outmost wilderness, only stopping by the occasional stream for a drink of brain-freezing water.

My fury at Cassius’s plan fuels my speed well beyond what I would usually be capable of. Why hadn’t we discovered this sooner?

Hours pass, and we take turns signaling to slow the pace to a walk at intervals to catch our breath. I get used to the swing of the two short swords strapped at my hips. I realize it won’t matter if the Elite are tired from killing the castle watch; we’ll be just as tired from running all the way there. Sanjay and Blizzard hand food back down our single-file line in the moments we slow our pace. We eat a few bites, often, consuming for endurance.

Malir holds up an arm and we slow to a complete stop. I have no idea where we are, but I wholeheartedly trust Rhone to get us where we need to be as quickly as possible.

“We must rest.” He glances at me.

I swallow back my initial refusal and survey the group. Blizzard and Sanjay look ready to drop. A chorus of complaints arise from the others, but I move forward. “Malir is right. We’ll be of no use if we’re exhausted when we arrive.” I turn to Rhone. “Where are we?”

“On the edge of the First Sector,” he responds instantly. We’re so close to the Sixth! I suppress my groan at the delay with difficulty.

“We’ll rest for an hour and then continue on,” I order.

“Get as much rest as you can,” Malir says. “We’ll need it. I’ve seen those Elite fight. We need our wits about us. I’ll keep watch with Rhone.”

I obey him, selecting a tree to lean against. I focus on the rough, cold bark behind me until I’m lulled into an uneasy stupor.

I glance down at the little boy in front of me. It’s Cameron, Tomi the delegate’s young son. I smile, wondering what innocently rude question he will ask today. He doesn’t smile back. I frown. His eyes are wide, terrified. I realize his mouth is open in a soundless scream. I try to get to him, but my feet are stuck. I look down at them and find I’m shackled to the ground! I meet the young boy’s eyes as a red line appears on his throat. Icy horror grips me as blood pours from the slit in his neck.

It’s my turn to scream as Hare, the member of the Elite who broke my leg all those revolutions ago, steps out from behind Cam. The boy hits the ground, dead and glassy-eyed.

I start from my nightmare, gripping my neck where it must have fallen into a bad position.