CHAPTER NINE
LYRIANA
As the sun dipped below the trees on the horizon, we packed up our meager belongings, as well as the additional supplies Rhyan had gathered over the last few days. The sky was a burnt orange giving way into winter’s looming darkness.
After I’d woken from a rather long and deep nap, we’d all decided that Rhyan would take Meera first to our new location. We were simply waiting for the exact moment to go. Once he had Meera settled, and took some time to restore his energy, he’d return for me. Not the best plan in the world, but the only one we had. Neither of us liked being separated, but we knew that if the soturi did find me, I had a far better chance of fighting them off on my own than Meera did.
I stood outside the cave with her as we waited for Rhyan to complete his final sweep inside. Meera was dressed like a soturion now. With her hood up, she blended perfectly with the pine trees. It was the first time we’d been alone since our fight.
We stared at each other, not speaking.
Finally, I said, “I’m sorry about earlier.”
She looked away. “You should be.”
“Meer.”
She took my hand, wind blowing through her braid. “You’re wrong about me.”
“I know! That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m trying to make up with you.”
Huffing out a breath, she looked back at me. “I hear you. I just … don’t believe you.”
I squeezed her hand back. “You’re not weak, Meera. You know I know that. You’ve shown your strength and your resilience in ways I’ve never had to. You would have …” The backs of my eyes burned as I considered that this future had been taken from her, taken from all of us. “You would have been a great High Lady and Arkasva.”
A sad smile crossed her face, obvious doubt shadowing her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I just … I got used to protecting you.”
“And I need to protect you, too. If you’ll let me.”
“You do,” I said, my voice shaking. And I could feel it then. Something had broken between us a long time ago. I wasn’t even sure when. And it wasn’t fixed, not by this fight, not by this conversation. But this felt like a start. Meera was becoming more determined, like the Meera who should have been wearing the laurel. Maybe when we unlocked her memories, figured out which Guardian she was, she’d become even more powerful than she was now.
Her eyes scanned the horizon, tracking the wind moving against the pine trees surrounding our clearing. “I hate leaving you. Promise you’ll be careful,” she said.
“I promise. It’s only for a little bit. I’ll be fine. I know how to fight.”
Rhyan stepped outside then, all of his belongings in a bag strapped across his shoulders. His soturion belt held his dagger and two swords. A third sword was strapped to his back. He pulled up the hood of his soturion cloak, the scar across his left eye darkening. “Are you ready to go?” he asked Meera.
“Ready.” She hugged me tighter, and then stepped back.
Coming to my side, Rhyan took my hand, his eyes roving over me with studious precision. I wore my soturion cloak with my hood up, and my armor hidden beneath. We’d both begun wearing our armor beneath our cloaks since we’d left Bamaria to further conceal our identities. My belt held my dagger, sword, several small knives, and now also my stave.
“Partner.” He took my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to kiss him as his hand ran down my side, past my hip. His fingers grazed across my weapons, reverently touching the hilts, before running down the leather scabbard that held my stave. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can. I’m not expecting trouble. But don’t hesitate with these. If you need to defend yourself—strike first, think later.”
The muscles in Rhyan’s jaw worked as he reached for my hip, fingers digging into my flesh, like he needed one more touch. His chest rose and fell as he squeezed, like he couldn’t bear to let go. His gaze held mine, his breath deepening. Then he released me.
“And stay with him.” Rhyan walked over to the beast, offering a stroke to his beak. “ Tovayah ,” he said softly. “ Tovayah. Keep her safe. ”
The gryphon’s eyes landed on me, then rolled back, but he didn’t move from his position. Rhyan caressed my hand again, before tugging me closer and kissing the corner of my mouth. He breathed into my neck, inhaling before whispering in my ear, “I’ll come back for you, to this exact spot.” His voice lowered, his good eyebrow lifted. “So be a good girl, and be right here when I return.” There was obvious desire in his hooded eyes. But they were laced with anxiety. He stepped back, eyes lingering on me before he held his arms out for Meera.
“Both of you be careful,” I said.
“See you over there, Lyr,” Meera said.
I tried to communicate with her silently, reminding her that she might need to catch Rhyan when they landed. She gave me a nod.
He spoke quietly, and she screwed her eyes shut, her hands gripping tightly at his sleeves. Emerald eyes latched onto mine one last time, holding me captive. And then they were gone.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. The last time Rhyan had traveled with Meera and left me, Morgana had betrayed us. We were now too far east to see the Allurian Pass. There was nothing but snowcapped mountains on the horizon. But I stared through them, wondering if Morgana was still there, wondering what she was doing, if she regretted her decision. But mostly, after everything, I wondered if she was all right.
Probably foolish to think about. For all I knew, she and Aemon were already making their way to the capital. To go after Jules. Or more pieces of the Valalumir.
Aemon had said he’d always known who he was, and had always been aware of his link to Moriel. It made me ill to think of what else he knew, what secrets he’d uncovered, and hoarded. I wish I had an idea of where we stood in his games, or just how far behind we were in learning what we needed to fight back.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. But I couldn’t relax. The dwelling began to feel eerily quiet, and I realized it was the first time I’d been truly alone in this country, alone in its wilderness. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms.
The gryphon whined, pulling my attention back to him. He shifted his weight and pushed his head against my hand, jerking it to the side. I reached for his chin, but he pushed my hand away again, stepping closer and presenting his forehead.
“This is what you want?” I stroked the top of his head. He made a happy growling sound that vibrated through his body. Seemingly satisfied, he stood up, and shook out his feathers, blowing gusts of snow that had accumulated on his fur onto me.
“Really? I give into your demands for head rubs and this is how you repay me?”
But then a strange feeling crawled up my spine.
The gryphon stilled, his wings pulled back to his body, his posture defensive again. He snapped his head back and forth, observing as I silently slid my hand to my hip, and wrapped my fingers around my sword hilt. I held my breath, my ears straining.
A branch snapped.
The gryphon snarled.
A moment passed, and then another.
I felt it before I heard it. A faint rumbling against the ground. The dry, crunchy snow was covered in a thin layer of ice that began to crackle as something slithered across it with a hiss.
Nahashim.
The same one I’d heard the other night. If I ran inside the cave, it would follow, and I’d be trapped. It was the reason Rhyan wanted me to wait outside—to ensure I had a way to escape, to avoid being cornered.
I withdrew my sword. The snake was growing louder, getting closer. I unsheathed my dagger with my left hand, widening my feet, my knees bent. And with weapons in both hands, I waited.
A small shadow danced behind a tree, before the nahashim slithered forward, its black scales shining in the remaining light. The snake stretched, revealing its full height, its head just reaching my waist.
I lunged, my dagger poised to strike.
But I missed the snake as it dodged.
Advancing again, I tried to lure it into a false sense of security by lowering my blades. Its black eyes watched curiously as its body undulated. I took another step forward, and again I struck. My blade hit the tree, snapping a piece of bark.
I stepped around the tree’s trunk, away from the cave. The snake stilled. I lunged. And missed.
Again, the snake slithered back, taunting me.
With a roar, the gryphon rose up on its hind legs. Its front legs kicked in annoyance, its sharpened talons slicing through the air.
“Shhh,” I said, my heart pounding. “It’s okay. Tovayah. Just one small nahashim.” But the gryphon wouldn’t settle. “Shhh,” I tried again. Fuck. All I needed now was for the gryphon to make enough noise to alert Imperator Hart’s soturi that I was here. “ Tovayah ,” I said, my voice low, attempting to mimic Rhyan’s. The gryphon’s talons hit the ground and I turned back to the snake.
Its mouth snapped, revealing fangs dripping with venom. My arm tingled, remembering the feeling of being stabbed by its fang the last time, as well as the coming paralysis. But with a deep breath, I charged forward, dagger lifted. At once, the nahashim retreated, its shining scales gliding back across the snow.
Another branch broke. And then another.
I stilled.
Tiny vibrations shook the loosened patches of ice on the ground, and without warning, the nahashim spun on its coiled tail, advancing. I thrust my sword, the point aimed at its throat. But it rolled just out of reach. Hisses hummed against the ground, the sound now coming from every direction.
A second nahashim slithered forward, and then a third, and a fourth. Within a few seconds there were dozens around me, all small, but still venomous and just as dangerous. Especially in these numbers.
Carefully, I stepped back, my heart pounding. Their scaly bodies undulated as they continued to advance, their hisses growing louder and louder until they became low, feral growls. I tightened my grip on my weapon as the snakes bared their fangs. I was trapped.
Frantically I tried to decide my next move. But a violent roar erupted and I ducked just as the gryphon leapt over my head. Snow and ice exploded as its paws slammed before me. With a screeching roar, it attacked the nahashim, the powerful muscles in its legs rippling. His talons sliced easily through the bodies of those nearest, tossing them aside.
Some snakes started to retreat, but most were gliding purposefully toward the gryphon, venom dripping from their open mouths.
I rushed forward, using their distraction to my advantage, my sword slicing through the bellies of each snake I could reach. Their bodies fell in pieces, twitching and jerking, before they stilled beside a snowbank. The gryphon roared, turning so suddenly, his tail knocked me aside. He steadied himself just long enough to face me. But beyond him, I could see more nahashim coming—the larger ones, the kind that could incapacitate, and carry me back to the Imperator.
With another whine, the gryphon nudged his head against my hand, flattening his belly at my feet. I stared as his tail twitched in agitation, and he emitted a squawk that ended in a roar.
I was about to yell at the gryphon to get up, to fight before he was bitten. But then he snarled, his tail moving frantically. I realized what I had to do.
Grabbing hold of his fur, I climbed onto his back. I’d barely gotten a grip when he rose up on his paws, his front talons kicking out as his wings flapped, blowing my hair into my face as he took off. We were moving so fast, running straight for the mass of snakes and trees. We lifted off the ground and I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart plummeting.
I started sliding off, shocked at his speed. I wasn’t used to flying this fast, nor riding bareback. Fuck—I wasn’t used to riding gryphons at all! They were nothing like seraphim. His wings flapped, and he flew even faster, the ground falling farther away from me.
“Shit! Shit!” I was losing my grip, slipping as he continued his vertical ascent. But then his body righted, lying flat, and I collapsed against his fur, my entire body shaking with cold and fear as we soared above the trees.
I had to tell Rhyan what happened, tell him not to come back.
Icy wind bit at my nose and cheeks, licking at my fingers as I tried to wrangle the vadati stone from inside my armor. But I couldn’t maneuver around the metal and maintain hold of the gryphon. Tightening my grip with one hand, I loosened my belt, letting the folds of my soturion cloak fly free. Then I reached beneath my tunic, ripping the chain from my neck.
“Rhyan!” I screamed into the stone. “RHYAN!”
“Lyr?” he answered immediately. “What’s wrong?” The wind was so powerful, I could barely hear him.
“Don’t come back!” I yelled.
“What? Why?” The stone brightened with more blue light. “Lyr? Where are you? What happened?”
“Nahashim! They attacked at the cave.”
“Fuck,” he said. “Are you hurt?”
“No!”
“Okay then I’m—”
“No!” I yelled. “Don’t. I’m safe. Flying.”
“You’re … you’re flying? On the gryphon?”
“Yes, yes,” I said, trying not to show my panic. “Now, help me. Tell me what to do.”
The gryphon screeched and any body heat I’d managed to maintain was sucked from me as something flew into my peripheral vision. I screamed. A nahashim was flying beside us. The Godsdamned snake had grown wings.
Fuck! These things really could do whatever it took to find their prey. It was several yards behind us, but it was catching up, far too quickly despite its tiny body moving against the wind.
“Lyr? LYR! What happened?” The stone lit up with a fresh blue light in my hand. “Are you okay?”
“Lyr!” Meera’s voice. “Lyr, answer! Now!”
“The nahashim,” I said, panting. I could barely breathe. “It can fly!”
There was a string of unintelligible curses on Rhyan’s end, and the gryphon picked up speed. I was having trouble focusing on my surroundings. The trees below me were just a blur of dark green pine topped with snow. But everything was quickly fading into the darkness as the sun continued to fall below the horizon. I had no idea how to direct the gryphon, or where to go.
“What do I do?” I yelled.
“Get closer to the gryphon’s head,” Rhyan ordered. “Go. NOW!”
Snowy wind began to blast against my face, but I did as he ordered, my thighs squeezing over the gryphon’s thick spine as I inched forward. “Okay,” I yelled. “Now what?”
The nahashim’s wings looked so thin and wiry, barely more than snake skin. But it was flapping with so much ferocity, it was going to be beside us in no time.
“Lyr,” Rhyan said. “I need to know where you are. I need descriptions of your surroundings. Landmarks. Details. Anything specific. Anything you can tell me.”
“I can’t. It’s all blurry. Trees. Mountains. I don’t know. I don’t even know which way we’re flying. Everything looks the same.”
“You didn’t go far from the cave. Do you see a flat mountaintop? Look for a peak shaped like a blunt triangle. You shouldn’t be far from it.”
“Rhyan, I can’t see anything,” I gritted. “We’re moving too fast. It’s too dark.” My cloak was beginning to strangle me as it flapped, the cloth twisting around me in the wind.
“Tell the gryphon ‘ sandar. ’”
Slow. I looked back at the nahashim. It was going to catch us if we slowed down. But I didn’t know what else to do.
“ Sandar ,” I yelled. “ Sandar. ”
“Did he slow?”
“NO!”
“Try again. Rub the back of his head!” Rhyan urged.
Breathing through my mouth, my chest heaving, I did. “ Sandar! ” At first, nothing happened. But then the gryphon’s wings swept down the length of his body, like sails on either side of me, and they stilled. The gryphon squawked and we angled upward. “Shit!” We were going higher, further from the trees, up to where the air was so much colder. But he was flying slower.
Slow enough for the nahashim to reach us. Something the gryphon seemed aware of as it suddenly panicked and flapped its wings. He angled down again, picking up speed. My heart dropped and I yelled.
“Lyr, breathe. Breathe. I need you to look. I need you to find the mountaintop. Flat. Triangular. It’s huge. You’ll see it, I promise, even in the dark.”
I took a shaky breath and searched the grounds. But I saw nothing.
“Lyr, do you see it?” Rhyan asked.
“Not yet.” I scanned over the blur of trees, forcing myself to focus, to make sense of the shadowy images rushing beneath it.
“Fuck. Lyr, do you see anything? Any identifiers? Come on. I need you to tell me something—anything you see so I can come to you.”
I looked, desperately, on the verge of tears. And then in the distance, moving closer, I spotted a flatland above the pine, a mountain fitting Rhyan’s description.
“I see the triangle!” I yelled.
“Good! Hold the stone to the gryphon’s head, and hang on. Okay? I’m coming to get you.”
I didn’t question his orders. I held the stone up, faintly hearing Rhyan’s voice shouting commands in High Lumerian.
The gryphon turned, and I patted its head again, watching as the nahashim picked up speed, hissing in the wind just behind us.
The mountaintop seemed to grow larger as we approached, and the gryphon’s body angled, soaring higher, its body slowing. I peered down, and could just make out the shadowy figure of a soturion in a green cloak.
Rhyan. He was on top of the mountain.
More shouts came from the stone, and we dropped suddenly. I screamed, my heart in my throat. We were falling. But it was just the way gryphons descended.
Way too fucking fast.
I leaned forward, holding on as the peak came closer and closer. My breath came short as I tried to convince myself that we weren’t going to crash. That we were going to be okay. We had to be okay.
But when I looked down again, Rhyan was gone.
Before I could scream, something slammed against my back. A warm hand gripped my waist, locking me against an armored chest, and the scent of pine and musk filled my senses.
Rhyan had jumped onto the gryphon.
“I’m here, Lyr. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he said urgently, pulling me even tighter against him. “You did good.” He sounded out of breath, his chest heaving against my back. “You did real good! Fucking proud of you, partner. Now hang on.”
I sank back against him in relief, my muscles suddenly useless like jelly.
He directed the gryphon past the peak, soaring over a stretch of suntrees, before we began our descent.
“Almost there,” Rhyan said. “We’re going to meet Meera at the cave.”
My heart lodged itself in my throat as we began to fall again, but Rhyan kept a steady hold on me.
“Partner,” he said, still breathless against my ear. “You’re okay now. Hard part’s over.” One hand reached for the gryphon’s head, and we slowed, just enough for the descent to feel bearable.
The gryphon snarled as we touched the ground, snow exploding like dust around us as more flakes fell in thick, steady clumps.
Rhyan dismounted at once, extending a hand to me as I followed him with far less grace. My boots hit the ground at an awkward angle and I stumbled into Rhyan’s arms. He immediately pulled me against him.
“Shhh. Shhhh,” he said. “Steady.”
My chest heaved, my breath coming in rapid spurts. “I need to tell you something,” I said shakily, as my boots sank into the snow. I pulled back, just enough to meet his gaze. “I really don’t like flying gryphon-back.”
Rhyan’s jaw dropped in mock-astonishment. “Lyr!” he scolded, then lowered his voice, “Not in front of the gryphon! You’ll hurt his feelings.”
Then the nahashim fell. Its body landed in a tightened coil, barely a few feet away from us.
Rhyan snarled, instantly serious, as he withdrew his sword. “Get in the cave. Wait with Meera.”
The black snake unfurled itself, hissing wildly, baring its fangs. The wings it had just grown disintegrated to ashes in the snow.
Rhyan slashed, his sword singing as it pierced the cold air. The snake danced, slithering and sliding its body away. Rhyan advanced.
“Don’t!” I yelled. “That’s what it did to me, before it led me into a nest and I was surrounded.”
“Lyr, it saw us. It’s going to report to my father. We can’t just let it go.”
“We can if it’s a trap!” I yelled. “Let’s go inside, we’ll ward the cave. When it’s clear, we’ll move again.”
But Rhyan stilled, his gaze focused as his stance turned predatory. Fresh cold energy from his aura swirled around me as the snake continued to slither away.
“Rhyan, come on. I don’t like this. Something’s wrong. You know it. Nahashim don’t retreat,” I said.
“They’re not supposed to grow wings either,” he muttered.
I shook my head. “Why grow wings to follow us here if not to—”
He gave me a sharp look, his jaw tensed.
“I—” He frowned. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Just …” His eyes moved rapidly back and forth. “Wait here.” He sounded distracted. “I need to scan the perimeter beyond the cave.”
“Rhyan!”
But he squeezed my shoulder. “Lyr, listen to me. I’ll be just a minute. I can handle myself. Go inside, and check on Meera.” His jaw clenched. “I need to do this, and I need you safe and out of sight. Go.” He stepped back, his cloak blending into the trees, making him difficult to see as he walked into the shadows.
A sense of unease gripped me. Why had none of the other snakes taken on the ability to fly?
Because they weren’t meant to.
They’d been the trap. The snake hadn’t been sent to retrieve us. It had been tasked with finding our location so it could report its findings, so whoever it answered to could come find us. And it had only stopped attacking because whoever had sent it was close.
“Rhyan!” I yelled into the vadati. “Rhyan, come back right now!”
Blue light filled the crystal. “Lyr, it’s okay. I’ll be back soon. I’m—shit!”
“Rhyan? Rhyan, what happened?”
The stone went white.
“Rhyan, answer me. Rhyan!” Fuck. I took off, running in the direction he’d gone in, leaping over snow piles and fallen branches.
He said he was checking the perimeter, so I started turning, trying to find a path that circled around the cave. But as I continued to search, there was no sign of him.
I didn’t want to yell his name in case whoever had sent the snakes were near. So instead, I yelled, “Partner? Partner!”
I ran farther, faster, weaving in and out of the trees, my eyes wide and searching.
“Partner?” I yelled.
Then blue light filled the vadati. “Lyriana!” Rhyan’s voice shouted.
“Rhyan! Gods! Are you okay?” I moved forward, pushing through the branches to find him. It was so dark, I could barely see where I was going. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine. Stay exactly where you are. Do not move. I will come to you.”
I paused, biting my lip as I searched for any sign of him in the gaps between the trees. My stomach started to sink, thinking of the nahashim. But within seconds, I could hear the sound of boots crunching in the snow.
Rhyan’s familiar form came into view, emerging from behind a cluster of pines. He walked forward at a quickened pace. Not injured. Not captured.
I raced forward, relief rushing over me. “Gods. You scared me!”
“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here.” He remained still, letting me reach him and throw myself into his embrace. For a second, he seemed stunned, his body stiff and unyielding against mine. But then slowly, his arms wrapped around me, his hands patting my back.
“We need to go,” I said. “The snake is reporting to someone nearby.”
“You figured it out,” he said.
Something was wrong. His voice was his, but the way he was speaking felt odd to me. He sounded so formal, completely devoid of his usual spark. I couldn’t detect any of the usual care he infused into almost every word he spoke to me. Stranger still, he remained stiff, not actually hugging me back. He was awkwardly patting my shoulders, while I was holding onto him as if my life depended on it. On the gryphon, he’d pressed me against him like he was trying to meld our bodies into one. And now, he seemed like he couldn’t keep enough distance between us.
I took a deep breath and it hit me. His scent was all wrong. Clean. Pine. But … unfamiliar.
I pulled away, staring up into his eyes, checking over his face for any sign of injury. But it was still so dark, I couldn’t see him clearly.
“Rhyan? Is everything okay?”
His eyes met mine in the moonlight, but … I felt like I was seeing a stranger. Rhyan’s eyes were empty of recognition. I couldn’t explain it. They were just as emerald as they always were, but they weren’t his . They lacked his warmth. His spark. His love.
Which made no sense. I was being silly. It was just dark, and I was still unsettled from my flight, and yet—
The scar that ran through his left eyebrow down to his cheek—the scar his father had given to him, the scar that I had traced a hundred times—was gone. The skin there was perfectly smooth and pristine. And I realized he looked younger. Softer. Like the Rhyan I’d met over three years ago. I remembered suddenly seeing him for the first time in Urtavia on my birthday this year. I’d noted all the ways he’d changed since the summer we’d kissed. How he’d looked older, wearier, tougher. And scarred. Now, it was as if none of that had ever happened. As if he’d gone back in time.
“Your scar.” I reached for his face, my fingers tracing the place where it had been. He flinched. “It’s gone.”
“LYR!” Rhyan screamed. But his mouth hadn’t moved, his voice was coming from behind me.
I turned my head.
“That’s not me! Lyr! Run!”
I faced the Rhyan in front of me again and jumped back, seeing his armor for the first time. Strapped across his chest was his old Glemarian chest plate adorned with the sigil of Ka Hart. The sigil that marked our kashonim was gone. And he was wearing it outside his cloak, the way it was supposed to be worn. Not the way we’d been wearing ours since we’d been on the run.
My mouth opened to yell, but Rhyan lunged for me, his hand around my neck, a stave pointed at my chest. Black rope coiled, springing forward and wrapping around me. Binding me. My chest seized. It was just like when Tristan had bound me. The panic I’d felt rushed back. I’d trusted him at the time, loved him, and he’d hurt me.
But … but Rhyan didn’t have a stave. He wasn’t a mage. And no matter what, under no circumstances would Rhyan ever hurt or do anything like this to me.
“Don’t touch her!” he screamed.
“Don’t touch her,” came a taunting voice with a thick Glemarian accent. One I’d heard before. “By the Gods, Rhyan. So many demands.”
Dario emerged from the shadows of the trees, pulling Rhyan forward. The real Rhyan. The Rhyan who still had his scar, who still wore the armor that showed our kashonim, peeking out from his opened cloak. He’d been bound in rope, his neck red as he struggled to break free.
I shook my head. “What is this?”
Staring back at the scarless “Rhyan” before me, he waved the point of the stave up and down his body. The golden-brown curls on top of his head straightened, lengthening into dark auburn locks. His green soturion cloak and black leathers were replaced with the blue robes of a mage. A stranger stood before me, one who possessed a kind of cruel sternness to his beauty. His eyes were dark, his skin pale in the way of most northerners. Looking me up and down, his eyebrows drew together over a large, gryphon-like nose.
Something began to niggle in the back of my mind—a description Rhyan had given me of one of his best friends. One who looked like a gryphon.
“Who … who are you?” I asked.
“I see Rhyan hasn’t told you about me. Who am I, or the special skills I possess with glamour.” He glanced at Rhyan, wind bristling through the dark auburn of his hair, his eyebrows still knitted together. “I think I’m rather insulted.” He returned his gaze to me and bowed, too low, the gesture mocking. “Allow me to introduce myself to you, my lady. That is your correct title now, yes? Lady? Not Your Grace.”
“Yes,” I seethed.
He dipped his chin. “I am an old friend of Rhyan’s. Lord Aiden DeKassas, at your service,” he said. “I am the official apprentice to Glemaria’s Master of Spies. And you are both wanted for questioning. It is my duty to bring you before His Highness, Imperator Hart, High Lord of Glemaria.”