Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHANCE
There was only one question I could think of: where was the death roster? We’d been sitting around the table for the past fifteen minutes before leadership finally arrived. Anax Clark looked disheveled, her grey bob was a staticky mess, and her pores were huge, sweat pouring from them. Sometimes super vision sucked.
“We have heard back and can confirm there are survivors. Of them, Anax Mardi, informed me about two hundred of the five hundred dokimoses made it out alive. All experienced staff was accounted for with the exception of Dux Housha, may he rest in peace,” Anax Graf started the meeting. My father’s chair next to hers was glaringly absent. Where the hell was he?
“They are traveling on foot and have been rerouted to your location,” she continued, “we expect them to arrive in about forty-eight to seventy-two hours. There are settlements on the way to house them.”
Was she serious? They were just attacked and now they were exposed and traveling on foot through woods that were possibly infested?
“Excuse me,” I interrupted. Today, apparently, was a day for breaking all kinds of protocol. A slippery slope. “Will we be discharging a team to bring them back? Surely, they’ll have injured among them, and we don’t know where those things have gone.”
“Dux Dale.” Anax Graf leveled her gaze at me. Fine, let her be pissed, just answer the damn question. “We will not.”
“What?” The word came out a half-whisper. How could we not help our own?
“Leadership has deemed the woods an unsafe space and as such, they’re on their own until we can better understand our enemy and how to stop them. From your very own report, it appears they are evolving. We don’t know who will make it through the night, let alone who will be standing by the time any team reaches them.”
“So, you’ve sentenced them to death?” Unbelievable. I stood up, if they wouldn’t help, I sure as hell would.
“Sit down, boy!” Rusty spat, saliva landing on my hands. Black veins webbed from around his eyes that were now haloed in deep purple. Worse than earlier today.
I leveled a glare at Rusty and straightened my back to my full height.
“Enough. Both of you stand down,” my father’s voice barreled through the room.
I glanced to the head of the table. Sure enough, his hologram was there and was more terrifying than in person. I swallowed. I needed answers. Leaving our men to die, that is exactly the opposite of what I stood for, why I enlisted.
“Now,” my father’s voice had a cold monotone key to it. TAP!
Hands gripped my shoulders and slammed me back into my seat. I rocked back before finding my balance and the grip on my shoulders vanished. Across from me, Rusty looked just as perplexed as he rocked in his chair. He was a new shade of red, embarrassed. At least I could appreciate that.
“Dux Dale, we understand your stance,” Anax Graf’s voice drew both mine and Rusty’s attention. “It’s a horrible situation, but the fact is that sending more recruits out there is merely increasing the death toll risk. They won’t make it back any faster if we send aid, we’d merely be increasing our exposure. Surely you recall your combat and strategy training?”
“It’s true, lad. Much as I hate to admit it, we were outnumbered back there and barely escaped. I mean you were a sack of potatoes on me shoulders,” Dux Carran let out a dry chuckle. “Any chance they have is in their own hands,” he finished, his tone softer than usual.
“But surely there’s something we can?—”
“Dux Holland, we’ve addressed that at length. Time to move on to more pressing matters,” my father’s voice interrupted her.
More pressing matters? Was he serious?
“The council has voted, and the Glenn is now at war.”
The entire room fell silent. War. Something we had fought hard to avoid in the last century. War. Unimagined carnage, loss of life, and for what? Why were we going to war?
“With whom?” Anax Clark spoke up, her eyebrows raised forming a rather unattractive unibrow.
“That, is the question, isn’t it. Anax Graf?” My father turned to the anax sitting at his right.
“Our enemy has proven elusive. However, based on the intel we’ve received from Dux Richards and from the Eastern Outpost’s ongoing investigation, it would appear The Fern and possibly Wataedge are involved.”
I gasped. She was speaking of an all-out war, not with just one vamp, but two and possibly all three?
“What intel?” Holland asked, her honey-brown eyes clear and searching the holograms.
“We intercepted some transmissions that point to the Fern’s involvement. Additionally, the data breach at the Eastern Outpost had Fern markers all over it. Our technical team followed the trail, and it is believed the hack originated in two parts: one in-person with a device to override our security system from the base itself and the other originating from across the sea, from the Fern. They followed it as far as they could before they hit resistance from the Fern’s own intelligence team. Furthermore, the hardware recovered from EO has been traced back to the Fern,” she spoke slowly and folded her hands before straightening her spine. “Given this data, we are inclined to believe they are also responsible for the attacks on the EO and SO, though the SO search has yet to yield anything helpful.” Anax Graf raised a brow at Holland and me.
Like we haven’t been trying. Like we weren’t attacked by creatures, and like I wasn’t just gutted alive.
“What other evidence is there connecting Wattaedge or Oak Bay?” I voiced. Like hell I was going to have the conversation derail to my apparent misgivings.
“Good question,” Anax Graf started before looking to my father. To my shock, he looked proud ?
“Sources have confirmed that both The Fern and Wattaedge are stacking their borders and centralizing their troops. Furthermore, when our internal intelligence team sent feelers out, they were unanimously banned by a shield that has components from both Wattaedge and the Fern. In addition to some foreign markers that of Mydant…”
The land of the Fae? They haven’t involved themselves with our realm since the last great war. Even their embassy base here was barely manned. Dear blood. This could turn into another dimensional war. Just like the last.
I began to massage my temples. No wonder they were denying a rescue convoy. If we were indeed at war, they would need every soldier we had—and more.
“So, nothing solid connecting Oak Bay?” Anax Clark spoke up. She pushed her thick-framed glasses further up her elongated nose. “You suggested they were involved?”
“Nothing solid connecting them to the recent attacks,” Anax Graf answered. “However, upon our ambassador’s request for a meeting to gain an alliance if a realm war does ensue, he was denied a meeting, and his quarters were ransacked. He barely made it out alive.”
“So, this is it then?” Dux Carran spoke as he stood. “My generation’s nightmare has become reality.”