Chapter 5 #2
“They didn’t seem particularly reasonable when they came charging into our camp, weapons drawn.” Raphael paced, chin resting in his hand. “We can’t count on their sensibility. We have to think of something else.”
Something else. But there was nothing. Tobias knew this, because he’d had this discussion a million times already, his thoughts arguing with one another night after night. Raphael may have been the Intellect, but he was late to the conversation. Tobias had stumbled across the truth days ago.
They were trapped.
Leila’s eyes brightened. “The Thalassic Sea. Have we enough coin to charter a ship? We can sail—”
“The sovereign has soldiers patrolling the coastline,” Raphael said. “All vessels are subject to mandatory inspections. Besides, we won’t find an army in the middle of the ocean.”
“Brontes has sellswords kept away somewhere,” She added. “If we find their barracks—”
“We can’t find their barracks without returning to the palace, which would be the end of us all. Plus, we haven’t the coin.”
Tobias cast a glare Raphael’s way. “We have nearly the full allowance from my entry into the Sovereign’s Tournament.”
“Which is a fraction of what we’d need to purchase a mercenary army, particularly one already claimed,” Raphael said. “Your allowance came from the sovereign. Imagine his resources.”
“We’re already near Ethyua’s border.” The gleam of Leila’s eyes dimmed, replaced with trepidation. “I know it’s a risk, but if I expose My title—”
“Out of the question.” Raphael resumed his pacing. “If the sovereign’s heralds have already reached the ally realms, soldiers will be acting on his orders. We’ll be killed as soon as we step foot on Ethyuan ground.”
“What about Kovahr?” Tobias said.
“You mean the realm with the most treacherous terrain of them all? We’d never survive the journey.” Raphael stopped short. “Now’s the time to think. We need a proper plan—one of sense and reason, not fanciful speculation—”
“Oh, will you please shut up?” Naomi spat.
The circle went quiet. Raphael froze, eyes set on Tobias’s surly sister, then shook the shock from his face. “Excuse me, but I’m simply offering my assistance.”
“Is that right?” She crossed her arms, scowling at Raphael from her spot on the ground. “Because it sounds a whole lot like you have us dead and buried already. I swear, you must be the most negative person I’ve ever met.”
Raphael’s jaw went slack. He spun toward Tobias. “Did she just call me negative?”
Tobias shrugged. “Appears so.”
Raphael turned to Naomi, lips pursed. “I’m being practical. This is a gravely dangerous mission. We can’t afford mistakes.”
“Well, if our ideas are so impractical, then by all means, share yours. Last I checked you only had one suggestion to spare, and it was an absolute dud.”
Voices sounded off—Naomi and Raphael bickering on either side of Tobias, dooming him to absorb the brunt of their ire.
Their squabble didn’t matter much to him, as he was too caught up in the strain of his muscles and the spiraling of his thoughts.
An army. Through what means? They hadn’t the expertise, the resources, and not nearly enough coin.
The black walls around him were closing in, forcing him to rake and claw at each brick, desperate to break free.
“I’m not the enemy here,” Raphael said. “I came to help. I’m our navigator.”
Naomi scoffed. “Ah, right you are. You begin navigating us, and days later, we’re attacked.”
“You were screaming!”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry my suffering inconvenienced you so.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know that!”
Tobias’s breath came out in short spurts, and though he fought to devise a plan, to simply think, he couldn’t.
He was trapped in that dark and winding tunnel as if the tournament had followed him from the palace fortress all the way to the middle of the woods.
The labyrinth wasn’t just an underground obstacle; it was a living, breathing entity, a parasite burrowing into his flesh and bleeding him dry.
An army. We need an army. But his mind had been stolen away, wrapped up in murder and death, in poisoned wine, poisonous spiders, and poisonous men.
The walls dropped, slamming into the pit of Tobias’s stomach.
He had the answer.
“And what about the attack yesterday?” Naomi said. “Tobias and Leila were left to defend us while you shuffled about like a duck.”
Raphael flung his hands in the air. “I’m not a fighter!”
“You competed in the Sovereign’s Tournament.”
“And I almost died!”
“Shocking no one.”
Tobias’s stomach turned. “Everyone, be quiet.”
“Exactly,” Naomi said. “That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time.”
“He’s talking to all of us, not just me—”
“I have an idea.”
Tobias’s words sent the group to silence—finally. Prying eyes panned his way.
“Well, what is it?” Raphael said.
Tobias’s throat tied into a knot, and between that and the boulder in his belly, he nearly couldn’t speak the words aloud. Sickness slinked through him, but he swallowed it down.
“You’re not going to like it.”