CHAPTER XVIII #5
Is Hirovale implying that Keane should command his men to move on the humans? That he should sacrifice the humans of La Cour and Airea in order to bend the cities to his rule? Do him and Sianoa really think him capable of such a thing?
“My brother has said the same thing,” Keane replies quietly, “that the two cities will only fall from within. Which makes me curious as to why they would risk leaving their strongholds to reclaim Etter. Their power resides only from remaining behind their walls.”
“Anger, vengeance…” Hirovale holds his gaze steady, “the Discerni from Dankworth are not happy. They have made their way to the capitol.”
“No, they’re not,” Keane narrows his eyes in agreement, hand tightening on his glass. “And if that desire for revenge still stands when we travel into Livyatan, then I can only suspect they will make their move once we cross the border.”
I turn sharply to Keane.
This is the first I’ve heard of the suspicion, though I can’t deny that it isn’t a valid one.
Both La Cour and Airea would want to take advantage of the King leaving Disce, of him being far, far away from their borders.
Etter isn’t ready to withstand the combined forces from the north.
It still relies too heavily on the large armies that wait nearby, armies that would rally to its defense without their First in Command to lead them.
Ancients, those people did not deserve to fall back under Woodlands thumb.
“But Troy can placate that, right?” I ask Keane quietly, drawing his brown eyes to mine.
I know without a doubt that the village would try to put up its best fight, but the best defense would be for an attack to not happen at all. Troy would need to halt another rising altogether to save Etter from potential disaster.
The King’s features harden at my question, his intense gaze holding mine.
“Troy will no longer placate anything,” he shakes his head without hesitation, “he will be
expected to lead the attack.”
“I’m sorry… what?”
“My brother’s value in Woodlands rests in the fact that his court still believes he is a Leading Lord who agrees with their traditions,” Keane watches me steadily, “while he has thwarted two retaliations already, I cannot and do not expect a third. The men from Dankworth nearly succeeded in rallying La Cour to their cause. The momentum in the capitol is building. It is only a matter of time before they decide to capitalize on it. I have ordered him to remain as the Lord they trust, and if that means he needs to lead an attack on Etter in which we’ll be given direct information on how they intend to do so, then he’ll be expected to do it. ”
Dear fucking Ancients.
“Then we push off travel to Livyatan…” I sit back with a heavy sigh, hating that the problem of Woodlands continues to loom so heavy, “and finally end the rule of La Cour.”
Actually, it never fucking left.
Hirovale shakes his head. “The travel to Livyatan cannot be put off any longer, Alex. I need the words.”
I turn to the Ancient with a heated glance, truly not caring what he needs.
“The words can wait, Hirovale.”
“They cannot,” his voice is stern, golden eyes never leaving mine. “Livyatan is moving quick at Rivian’s side. Her creature is awake.”
“And you know this how?” I ask quietly.
Hiro narrows his eyes on me. “I know this because I met one of their priests on the other side…”
A full shiver runs down my spine, the loss of lives it took to accomplish the task not lost on me. Hirovale’s shoulders press firmly against his chair, the look of seriousness consuming his features.
“And because that priest told me with a smile that he was the last of their sacrifices.”
“What kind of creature are we dealing with?” Keane inquires, his voice just as serious as Hirovale’s.
“The worst of the monsters of the old, Old World,” Hiro replies slowly, finally taking a small sip of his whiskey. “A creature of the water who can also walk land. Massive, bigger than the temples found in Alston, with three heads that can siphon the water out of any being with its direct gazes.”
Golem shifts on his feet as the room goes cold.
I frown. A creature as large as the Great Oak? Commanding the water and land with three heads? Something that can kill me with a single look?
Blessed Ancients, how are we to fight against something like that?
“That sounds…” I drift off quietly.
“Impossible?” Hirovale replies with a small scowl.
“Fantastical,” I murmur under my breath.
“Fantastical, Alex?” The Ancient catches my gaze with his own in disbelief, “the Princes’ braids were not enough for you?”
While those snakes and the idea of a more powerful creature rattle me to my core, I can’t deny the pure intrigue that wants to mix in with my newfound fear.
“I’m not na?ve to think the monster is anything but that,” I scowl back at the Ancient, willing my curiosity away, “I’m just noting that it sounds like something made up, like a story in a book you use to scare children.
It sounds like a fantasy monster that belongs to the reader, not something real of this Old World. ”
“This creature is real and belongs to no one but Rivian,” Hirovale leans his elbows on the table with a hard glance.
“It follows no orders but her own. It is very real and no longer a creature of fantasy. That monster is powerful, as is the Prince at my sister’s side.
The two of them continue to strengthen themselves and Livyatan as we speak, just as they do for the creature.
It may take a fortnight or two for the monster to adjust, but we cannot wait any longer.
The more we stall, the more time we give them to build, to rally their own cause and gain more power. ”
“Why would we knowingly walk into that?” I shake my head at him, the prospect of traveling to Livyatan becoming more and more dangerous with every turning day.
“Because the creature is weak right now,” Hirovale replies with determination, “because I’m hoping she’ll parade him around in a show of strength at your arrival.”
My eyes go wide. “And you what? Believe that if we go there now you can kill it?”
“We will kill it,” Hirovale nods firmly, his golden eyes flaring back on mine, “but don’t forget the original intention of the travel, Queen. I still need to get my hands on her words. As soon as possible, before she remembers where she stored them.”
“Isham has already told me that he needs my assistance to find the prophecy,” I counter, shaking my head. “They are unable to locate the words on their own.”
“For now.”
I take a swift drink in thought. Isham and Yiannis wanted to steal me away the moment we traveled home from Red Falls.
He implored me twice in Bardot to make the travel, though no urgency fell from his voice.
Were the words as important to him and his Ancient as they are to Hirovale?
Or has he let go of the hope for me to travel to his Kingdom and is now setting to the task of finding the Ancient’s prophecy himself?
Hiro shakes his head. “I do not want to leave any of that to chance, Alex. If the Prince gets his hands on the words before we do there will be no chance of reading them.”
“No…” I agree quietly, because I had already planned on doing the same to Isham. If he still needed me to find the words, I knew without a doubt that I would never let the Leviathan set eyes on them once I had them in my hold.
“That would be a hard task,” Hirovale grimaces, “you think you’ll be able to hide them from him?”
“Hide them, destroy them,” I nod evenly, “I’m certainly hoping to.”
“Once you enter his lands, Alex, the Prince will not let you out of his sight,” Hirovale replies coolly. He wants the prophecy just as much as we do.
“But neither will you and Keane,” I remind him out loud.
The Ancient shifts in his seat, eyes holding mine for a long moment before he finally turns his golden gaze on the King.
“There is another way…” he says quietly, eyeing Keane with small sympathy.
Keane stills in his seat.
“No,” his voice is hard, “that will not happen.”
“It may need to,” Hirovale continues, steadying his fingers on his glass before he lifts the whiskey to his lips. “I need the words as soon as possible. I cannot afford to have this deterred any longer.”
My eyes dart quickly from Keane to Hiro, noticing the Ancient’s silent resignation pitted against the King’s new anger. Keane is trying his best to hide his features behind the look of Discerni indifference, but his full body has tensed, muscles straining under his shirt as he takes a heavy breath.
“What’s going on?” my voice is a bare whisper.
Neither of the men answer me.
“Hiro,” I eye the Ancient with a small glare, “what’s not going to happen? What are you suggesting?”
“Woodlands needs to be handled, Alex,” Hirovale drops his glass on the table after a long pause, eyes slowly finding mine again, “as does Livyatan…”
Keane’s hand on my knee gives it a sharp squeeze.
“I’m suggesting that there is an option forward,” he says slowly, “an option that allows the King to remain here and deal with the problem to the east while you and I move on our quest to the west.”
My full body goes rigid, trembles threatening to rock me against my chair as I stare at Hirovale in disbelief, again. I think I begin laughing. No, I’m definitely laughing at the Ancient, not even able to fathom that Hirovale considers this to be an actual option.
“Enough of this jest, Hiro,” I shake my head and take a heavy swig of whiskey, “we will handle Woodlands first. Together.”
There’s no fucking way I’m traveling to Livyatan without Keane.
The two men sit in silence, eyes landing on me as I look between them in complete astonishment. Keane still has a look of pure anger flaming behind his own eyes, but his body is losing its tension, as if he’s actually considering the proposal.
No. Fuck, no.