Chapter 39
Draven
Almost as soon as we’d returned from Frost Grave Pass, I met with Eryx to relay the Skaldwings’ warning. Phoenixes and messengers were dispatched to nearly every corner of the realm—some bearing pleas for aid, others carrying orders for our outposts to brace for an attack or to march if called.
Winter was stretched too thin, frayed by fear and the long shadow of war. And now I was asking my people to rally again, when so many of them had nothing left to give.
If the Skaldwing Thane was right about what was coming, we needed allies if we had even the faintest hope of surviving.
And with Nevara still unconscious…
I would have given anything for one of her cryptic predictions now. Anything to know which strike to brace for, which knife was already at our throats… and which waited in the shadows behind us. Anything, just to hear my best friend’s voice again.
Instead, when I entered the war room, I found Eryx was not alone.
Soren stood beside him, shoulders tight, posture wrong enough to set every instinct in me on edge. A cold spike of fear knifed through my chest.
“Nevara?” Her name came out sharper than intended, betraying the dread I’d tried to suppress.
Soren shook his head immediately. “No. It’s not her.”
Relief flooded my veins, at least, before I registered the rest of his expression.
“But something else is wrong,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. “Very wrong.”
Of course it was. The world never stopped breaking long enough for us to catch our breaths.
“Explain,” I said, my jaw tightening as frost crept outward from my boots.
Soren took a shaky breath, eyes drifting to the small fire in the hearth. “The flames. They’re… quiet.”
A cold, heavy weight settled in my gut. I followed his gaze to the flickering logs.
“Quiet how?” I asked carefully.
From where I stood, I could hear the pop and crackle of wood, smell the cedar smoke curling upward—but that wasn’t what he was referring to.
Everly had already explained Soren’s gift. How far it could reach. How it could slip through borders and walls, carrying whispers that might have been our advantage.
He met my eyes, studying me for several heartbeats before nodding once.
“They aren’t speaking to me anymore,” he said quietly. “At first, I thought it was exhaustion. That Amias was right about how far I was straining my mana on so little sleep. But now… it feels like someone dampened every ember in the realm. Like the sparks die the moment I reach for them.”
Eryx frowned, hard. His arms crossed tighter, shoulders going rigid beneath his battered armor. Suspicion flickered like black ice glinting in low light.
“So you can spy through hearths and watchfires,” he said, his voice edged with frustration. “And this is only now being shared.”
He glanced at me then, disappointment in his hardened gaze.
“I only just found out recently,” I said by way of explanation. “But Redthorne here is not a threat to Winter or anyone in this room.”
A muscle in Eryx’s jaw tightened—he clearly disagreed, but he held his tongue and inclined his head before turning back to Soren. “How long has this been happening?”
Soren gripped the edge of the table. “For the past several days. I kept reasoning it away… but it’s only gotten worse. And then today… Today it has proven to be impossible.”
Frost-damned hells… Anger flared beneath my skin. If his flames had truly gone silent, then what did that mean for the phoenixes, or the messengers? Had every other warning, every other plea we sent out disappeared into the void as well?
Eryx pulled out a parchment from his cloak. “There’s more.”
Something other than grim resignation pulled at his features, a hesitancy mixed with the slightest edge of censure.
“What is it?” I demanded.
“The kill on sight order—”
I held up a hand to stop him, frustration flaring within me. I refused to picture the warriors who had helped us defeat the Korythid or the young female whose quiet bravery had been too reminiscent of my wife. The law was more important than ever now that we knew war was imminent.
“I already told you that it stands.”
Soren’s features were carefully neutral, but Eryx raised his eyebrows.
“Understood. Here is the latest report.” He slid the parchment pointedly closer.
I picked it up, eyes scanning the reports.
Several suspected spies had been taken out. At least a dozen confirmed attempts at kidnapping or looting a village. A male Skaldwing found standing over a slain Winter family.
But three incidents stood out.
A group of adolescents were flying overhead when the soldiers eliminated them. The report noted that they had made no move to defend themselves.
A Lupine couple was found camping along the border. They had fought back, but only after being provoked. They had killed two of the soldiers before they were taken out.
Then the last one. A Mirrorbane had chased a group of nomadic Thornharts through the Frost Grave Pass, where the soldiers stationed at the outpost had found and eliminated them. Males, females… and children.
A muscle worked in my jaw. I had been responsible for the deaths of children before, of innocents. I wasn’t naive enough to believe that everyone who crossed the borders was guilty of a serious offense.
But Everly was still a target.
I glanced down the list again, the overwhelming reports of Unseelie who had undoubtedly deserved their executions. Without knowing who was sent to spy, to murder, to take children for slaves or to kidnap my shards-damned wife, we could not afford to be soft on them now.
Weighing the risks against the inherent stain against my already fractured soul, I would choose Everly’s safety every time.
“I see.” I pushed the parchment back toward Eryx, meeting his conflicted gaze once more. “Keep me apprised of any updates.”
There were no right choices here. One way or another, we were headed toward a certain war. All that mattered was that my wife survived the carnage that was coming our way.