Chapter 25 Meryn
MERYN
Lord and Lady Grunfall have a long-abandoned country house right near the border between Nocturna and Astreona. It’s been ravaged by the never-ending war. But it’s far enough from the current major zones of conflict that it seems like a safe zone.
For… peace talks.
Thankfully, we were given a day to consider our next move. Not that I used the time for thinking—instead, I slept like the dead thanks to the effects of the intense magic Stark and I had wielded.
I haven’t had time to think about that, yet, either.
Stark and Siegrid agreed to accompany me to the meeting, and the three of us move at a steady lope toward the manor house. I focus on Anassa’s labored breathing beneath me and occasionally sneak glances at Stark and Cratos when I know Siegrid won’t notice.
These things keep me grounded. So does the birdsong.
Stark and I haven’t talked more about what happened out on the battlefield. That… connection between us. I can’t stop thinking about it. But we’ve all firmed up our mental walls now that the immediate threat is gone, so I can’t tell if it’s still on his mind.
The ruined Grunfall manor comes into view, and I notice it’s on a slight rise with sight lines in all directions. It would be difficult for anyone to approach undetected, whether Bonded or Siphon.
If this is to be an ambush, it’s not catching us by surprise.
I insisted on meeting outside, of course. If this whole thing turns out to be an elaborate trap, I refuse to be cornered inside the crumbling walls of this decrepit ruin.
Currently, I’m giving it seventy-thirty odds in favor of ending in blood.
If Ruby pisses me off, though, it’s shooting up, hundred-zero.
We draw up under the shadow of the manor’s tower. Siegrid dismounts first, Genicos falling into step behind her.
I glance at Stark again. He’s waiting for me. When I dismount, he follows. Then he’s at my side, hand resting on the dagger at his hip.
An elaborate courtyard spreads out before us. It was clearly once beautiful—an extended colonnade, a withered gazebo. A dried-up dip in the terrain hints at what was once likely a little pond.
Now, it’s all overgrown and disheveled. Weeds strangle the lingering plants. Crackle-dry ivy clings to the columns. There’s a stone bench near the empty pond that’s on its back, feet up in the air.
In the center of it all is a massive stone table. It’s been cleared of debris and dug out of the vines. And sitting at it is an eerily gorgeous woman I recognize.
Ruby is perched in a stone chair, her legs crossed at the ankles, her chin high.
Her black hair is loose around her shoulders, and the subtle waves of it complement the sharper lines of her face.
She’s out of armor, and her bright-colored clothes are perfectly tailored. She wears two gold hoops on each ear.
Behind her are two attendants, just as stony as the table before them. They’re more humbly dressed and don’t look at us at all as we enter the courtyard—a feat, considering the size of our wolves trailing behind us.
Ruby rises to greet us. We exchange curt nods before we take our positions. I sit across from her, while Stark and Siegrid remain standing directly behind me on either side.
I affect an air of calm as I turn to look Ruby directly in the eye. “Your terms?”
Ruby doesn’t blink at my brevity. “Astreona’s true enemy has never been Nocturna or its people, but Alistair Brightbane specifically.
He has used your throne to challenge King Lucien’s rule for five centuries.
Now that a new Sturmfrost Queen sits on the throne, King Lucien sees an opportunity to reforge a once-flourishing alliance and focus on our common enemy. We can make the ceasefire permanent.”
I carefully maintain my diplomatic mask. But internally, I’m letting out one long, disoriented groan. It’s borderline impossible to believe her.
The Siphons are literally bloodsucking monsters who feed on humans to survive. For centuries, they’ve been trying to take over our country so they can feast on Nocturnans.
Fresh prey, that’s all we are to them. And now she’s trying to claim that we could somehow be allies?
But then, the last six months have taught me that history is written by the people in charge, and the rest of us need to read between the lies.
So… I’ll keep listening.
I pinch my lips together and ask, “After years of terrorizing us, why would Astreona suddenly offer peace? What do you truly want in return?”
A small, knowing smile plays across Ruby’s lips. It looks like I’ve passed a test. “In exchange for an immediate ceasefire along all borders, you must agree to travel with me to the city of Brightbane to meet with King Lucien and formalize the alliance.”
Stark explodes, slamming his arm down on the table in front of us, both protective and threatening.
There’s a low growl in his voice as he bites out a sharp, “Fuck off.”
I’m torn between heated satisfaction and the knowledge that he probably shouldn’t threaten an ambassador.
Ruby’s gaze shifts to him and then returns to me lazily. “I suggest you call off your muscle and consider the precarious position of your kingdom.”
Anassa growls menacingly, and Ruby flinches, ever so slightly. The direwolf ends the growl with a mocking bark.
I smirk. “You should be aware that Anassa is the muscle here, and she does not like to be tested. She considers Siphon tongue a delicacy that she’s dying to try.”
“Queen Sturmfrost,” Ruby goes on, gathering herself, “it’s vital that you understand the position you find yourself in.
” She spreads her long, perfect fingers over the rough stone.
“You have lost the entire Phylax pack to Alistair, which has left your throat unprotected. As such, our fangs linger perilously close. No clever tactics—not even the power of your direwolves—will render your current military situation tenable. And forgetting the borders we share, we know a looming civil war brews within your own kingdom.”
I lean forward, pinning her down with my own searing stare. “However, you are the one who wants something from me. Do you intend to win my cooperation with threats, General Navarro?”
“No,” she says. “I hope to convince you by reminding you of reality. If you want a ceasefire and to give your citizens reprieve, you will travel to the city of Brightbane to discuss the alliance with our king. If you do not, we will assume you are not interested in our partnership. We will enter Nocturna anyway and hunt down Alistair through methods of our own designs, starting by clearing out the village of Weisenstat to ensure that it is not harboring the traitor or any who are loyal to him. You grow grain in this area, do you not? Can your people survive without it?”
“Huh, that sounds quite a bit like a fucking threat,” I reply icily.
She presses her full lips together. “I assure you it is not meant as one. We do not want to enter your sovereign nation without your permission. But if we cannot come to an agreement, we will.”
“Give me one good reason not to slice this bitch’s head off right now,” I hiss at Anassa through the bonds. “Seriously, I need you to be the voice of reason because I am about to lose it.”
Stark is burning with anger behind me, too, and it’s reaching me and intensifying my own.
“Her tactics are discourteous, but I sense sincerity from her,” Anassa says. “The offer seems genuine.”
“So, what, we travel to the far ends of our enemy nation at the beck and call of their king, leaving our country leaderless? All in the hopes that whatever awaits us there will be better than risking their wrath?” I pause, mulling this over. “I think I should use foresight.”
“That may be wise,” Anassa says. “As long as you remember the visions aren’t complete.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself fully enter our bond, tapping into my Strategos power. It’s easier this time, after using it so recently. Like a pathway I’ve trod before. But the visions come swiftly… and brutally.
If I don’t agree to go with Ruby…
Burning fields. The village in shambles.
Children wandering around soot-covered, barefoot, through the rubble. Crying for their parents. Crying for food.
Immediate destruction and misery.
And if I do agree to go…
The baking sun. A golden crown, not my own. Blood, in a slow drip down someone’s neck.
It doesn’t seem great, either, but it’s a whole lot less sinister.
My throat tightens as my eyes fly back open.
The misery of my people can be avoided.
“I can make a choice that staves off that future,” I say to Anassa. “But how do I know that it won’t result in something worse happening further into the future? Further than I can see?”
Anassa is silent for a moment. Eventually, she says, “You do not, and you never will. These are the decisions that you must make as the leader of your country. All you are able to do is make the best decision for the moment with as much information as you have, and then live with the consequences.”
I want to groan. “Great. As someone known for her totally unimpulsive decision-making, I’m very qualified for this job.”
Anassa huffs at my side. “This is why you humans require direwolves. We are not as irrational.”
“Yeah, I’m really glad I can get advice from someone who sniffs butts.”
She nips at my ankle, and I finally look back to Ruby. “Your position is clear. I’ll need to confer with my advisors before making such a momentous decision.”
Ruby bows her head in a slight acknowledgment. If she’s frustrated, she doesn’t reveal it. She sounds uncaring as she says, “The offer expires in twenty-four hours, after which hostilities will resume at full force.”
I rise from my seat. “Twenty-four hours,” I acknowledge.
Unexpectedly, Ruby’s expression shifts to almost… amusement. Immediate red flag. When she stands, I tense slightly.
“To help the queen consider our proposal, I have a gesture of goodwill to present,” Ruby says. She nods to one of her attendants, who disappears around the side of the manor house. My hands are in fists as he returns moments later with another figure trailing behind him.
My whole world tilts sideways.
For a second, it looks like the crumbling manor has finally given in to its own weight and toppled over. I feel like it has, like its stones have crushed all the air out of my lungs.
I can’t maintain composure. A small sound rips from me. Wounded. Lost.
The sound of a heartbroken little girl.
Standing before me is my father, who I know has been dead for eleven years.
He’s been turned into a Siphon.