Chapter 22
Trap
Damien
Convincing Thane to wait for Eloise’s return before making any strategic moves isn’t particularly difficult. What choice does he have, given our circumstances? If we attack New Stygarde with the men we currently have, we will lose. There’s no other way to spin it.
Days pass. We train, but morale is low. Everyone knows our odds. Everyone hears rumors of how their homes have been ransacked by silver coats. Everyone wants to do something.
In the war room, we stare at the map of Tenebris. “What if we were able to sneak an explosive into the camp?” Thane asks.
“Before we left New Stygarde, we learned Nevina set up a magical boundary around the castle, along with a military boundary. A talented warrior might get lucky and sneak in, but if they trigger her spell, they’ll have a hard time getting out again.
If they’re caught, our entire operation will be in jeopardy.
No explosive at our disposal is strong enough to take out enough men to make it worth our own. ”
We both turn as the door flies open and Tempest rushes in, covered in blood. A bad feeling lands in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re hurt. Damien, fetch the healer!” Thane takes her into his arms.
“I don’t need a healer,” she says, throwing him off. “My wounds have already healed. Most of this is from the stag.”
“The stag? I thought you were obtaining meat for the kitchen, not wearing it,” I say, relieved she’s not hurt.
She groans, balling her hands into fists. “I took Stuart with me to meet the ship delivering our provisions. When we returned, we opened one of the crates in the safe room, like we always do, just to make sure our shipment hadn’t been tampered with.”
“Wise. It wouldn’t be beyond reason for the enemy to hide in one of the crates.”
“Exactly. Unfortunately, we proved the need for our protocols.” The look she gives us is devastated.
“No…” Thane says.
She turns toward me. “We aren’t trusting around here and always test the shipments in a secure location below the Maiden’s Voyage.
I open them with a long crowbar and shift immediately, while Stuart guards me from the opposite side, daggers ready.
If we hadn’t been on our toes, one of us could have been killed.
As it was, Stuart was left with an incredible mess to clean up, and the entire shipment had to be destroyed. ”
Thane closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face. “No food for the men.”
“How much do we have in store?” I ask.
“Enough for a week at least, if we ration,” Tempest says.
“Is it possible to send a contingent into the forest to hunt?”
She shakes her head. “The entire city is crawling with New Stygarde soldiers. Thank the goddess we’ve already received our supply of weapons from Mount Damocles, or I’m sure those shipments would be a liability as well.
Brahm is convinced you have to be here. He knows I have a soft spot for you.
They’ve searched everywhere else. Even the witches of Dimhollow allowed them to look for you in their village once you were long gone and they’d hidden your mother and sister.
Banias has been searching for us, Thane and me.
If he finds us, he’ll question us, and his methods will not be merciful. ”
I pace the room and then grab my sword and sheath and head for the door.
“Damien, where are you going?”
“To follow my wife’s advice and try to make a friend,” I mumble.
“What?”
“An idea. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. If Eloise returns while I’m gone, tell her to wait here for me.”
“Damien?” Tempest reaches for me. But I shift and surf the shadows before I change my mind.
I arrive at the Rivertoad caravan at moonset and snake my shadow form under the wagons and between the narrow canvas walls of the tent. I wait and I watch. Rivertoads come and go, singing and dancing and eating Maggie’s food. Hours pass before I see Jaqual.
No one would mark him as a king. He blends in with the others, his clothing tailored but made of scraps of leather, sewn together as if nothing could go to waste, with those cheap strings of multicolored beads in his hair, around his neck, around his wrists.
And the eye, waiting, watching, on top of his shirt.
He doesn’t favor any single group of his people.
It fascinates me. No noble class. No social hierarchy.
He mills from table to table, talking with everyone, singing when asked to, dancing when the mood strikes him.
And I notice something else, something I noticed the first time we were here. He does not drink the ale.
His eyes remain as sharp as his weapons.
He is the first to notice me when I form inside the tent.
And when he approaches me, his hand is on his blade.
The music stops, and every Rivertoad in the place turns to stare.
“I thought we’d said everything there was to say to each other, Prince Damien, or have you decided to trade that lovely bride of yours after all? ”
I refuse to take the bait. Offering a shallow smile, I meet the man’s eyes and speak to him as an equal.
My voice is low, steady, and respectful as I say, “King Jaqual, please excuse the interruption. I’ve come to seek your counsel on an important political matter.
I know our people have not always shared the best of relations, but I hope to change that. Will you meet with me?”
His sneer fades into a teasing smile, until he sees I’m serious and matches my expression. He trails three fingers through the air, and the band starts up again. “Follow me.”
We walk to one of the wagons near the middle of the western-facing spoke, and he shows me inside. It’s a moderate wagon with a purple and red interior. At first, I assume it’s a random one he uses for meetings, but his scent is everywhere. “Do you live here?”
He glares at me. “Not up to your standards?”
I raise my brows. “I was simply surprised you’d show me where you live. My standards these days top out at wherever my brother isn’t trying to kill me, which makes this wagon better than any castle. Would you like to sell it to me?”
My attempt at humor is wasted on him. He crosses his arms. “In fact, your brother’s men have nosed around my camp quite a few times, looking for you.
I allowed him to search the wagons once, but I refuse to be subjected to the constant monitoring he wants to impose.
His commander found my mercenaries could be incredibly uncooperative when their space wasn’t respected. ”
I snort. “I’m learning never to underestimate you, Jaqual.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “You didn’t come here to flatter me, Damien.”
“No.” I take a deep breath and think of Eloise. “I don’t think you ever wanted my wife.”
His gaze locks on mine, and he goes absolutely still. His violet eyes turn hungry, and I realize my mistake too late. He moves in close, backing me against the cabinets along the far wall of the wagon. “Then have you come to offer yourself?”
I clear my throat as his hand closes around it. I swallow against his palm. “What I meant was that you wanted the dragon, not the woman.”
He does not back off. His nose comes closer to mine. “Do you want the woman, Damien?” he asks softly.
“I do,” I answer.
He backs up a step, a look of disappointment on his sharp features, and spreads his hands.
“Secret’s out. I have no use for Eloise, other than advancing my political agenda.
” He picks an apple from a fruit bowl on the small counter, tosses it into the air, and catches it.
“To be fair, it was never a secret. Any Rivertoad could tell you I have no interest in women at all.”
Once again, I’ve allowed my jealousy to get in the way of common sense and diplomacy. Have I learned nothing from my time in Night Haven and Eloise’s relationship with Marcel, Everald, and George? Am I a slave to my mating instincts like some adolescent boy who can’t control his temper?
“I owe you an apology,” I say with utmost sincerity.
He snorts and eats a slice of apple off his knife. “Don’t bother yourself, Damien. I didn’t take your rejection to heart.”
“No. Not that. I’m afraid you were right about my father, about the old biases that existed between us.
I wanted to believe that how my family—how the kingdom, really—treated your people was deserved.
And I think the way I jumped to the conclusion that your intentions for my wife were no better than King Entrydal’s had everything to do with those biases. I see now that I was wrong.”
“What did King Entrydal do to Eloise?”
I draw a deep breath. He wouldn’t know the details, although I’m surprised there are no rumors of her time in captivity. “He abducted her, tortured her, almost killed her,” I admit. “I was able to get her out, only because I had help from the witches of Dimhollow.”
He gives a low whistle. “He is a bastard, that one.”
“So, you see, I am not one to trust the intentions of any man when it comes to my wife. And what I said was true about her. She makes her own choices and is more powerful than any of us. But all that doesn’t excuse my reaction. I should have acknowledged what you were trying to achieve as a king.”
“You should know that king is a poor name for what I am. Rivertoads don’t have castles, and we don’t have royalty.
The name for what I am among my people is calla die.
In our language, it means “Wise One,” and it is an elected position.
Never mind that anyone who was actually wise would avoid the role at all costs. ”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” I say with a laugh. Despite everything, I like Jaqual. “What a mess this kingdom has become.”
“Is this why you came?” he asks more forcefully. “To apologize and nothing more?”
“No. Although it would be reason enough. I came again to ask for your support. I need your help to overthrow my brother and his dark elf queen.”
“And to put you on the throne,” he says through his teeth. “Don’t forget your true goal.”
I swallow. Here we go. “Not necessarily.”
He leans forward from where he’s perched on the edge of his bed and places the half-eaten apple carefully in his fruit bowl. “Tell me more.”
“What if I agreed to an election? All citizens of Stygarde would vote for who should lead it. If I am elected, I become king and vow to rule more justly than my family before me. If you, or anyone else, are elected, I will step down peacefully and allow you to rule.”
He squints at me. “You would allow me, a grimy Rivertoad, to rule from your father’s throne and sleep in your mother’s bed.”
“Yes,” I say quickly, knowing I would. “What good is coveting a palace or a throne if I’m not alive to enjoy it?”
He scoffs, the amulet around his neck winking. “You’re lying. There’s no way in hell a Hymir would voluntarily give up the throne.”
I gesture at the amulet. “You know if I’m telling the truth.”
He shakes his head. “You may believe it now, but when the war is won and you are standing on a bloody battlefield, you will change your mind. You will justify it by saying you can’t allow a Rivertoad to rule the kingdom. You’ll betray my people as generations of your kind have before you.”
“What could I give you to prove my intentions?” I squeeze my eyes closed. “Aside from my wife.”
“But you see, Damien. She is, and has always been, the only thing that will bind you to your word. I knew it the moment you held the tip of your sword to my neck and I smelled your mating scent. I will treat her well. She will live among us, and I will return her once you’ve kept your promise. It is the only way.”
“It is an impossibility. She is the dragon. We will need her to fight with us. She can’t do so if you have her in a cage.”
He draws back, looking offended. “I mentioned no cage.”
“Then how will you keep her?” He gives me a tired look. “You trust her word. If she promises to stay, you’ll believe her.”
“Finally, the resurrected prince is catching on.” He clutches the eye around his neck. “This gift of mine allows me to see the heart of people, and I know she will keep her promises.”
“But not me?”
“I don’t trust what it tells me about you.”
I scoff. “I won’t ask her to stay with you.”
He picks up the apple again and slices off another piece. “Then good luck to you. I hear Brahm and Nevina are becoming more aggressive with their pursuit. At this rate, there won’t be a cottage in this kingdom left unburned.” He takes the slice between his teeth.
My stomach sinks. We’re running out of time. “How long until he burns your wagons, Jaqual?”
He scoffs. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“The citizens of Covellton told us that’s what they believed about the Borderlands.
They did everything the king and queen asked, and still, their homes were destroyed.
Do you know what they couldn’t do? Do you know what no shade in this kingdom can do?
They couldn’t become dark elves. Make no mistake, Jaqual, once my brother knows you are no further use to him, he’ll wipe every wagon from the face of Tenebris. ”
Jaqual says nothing, but I don’t miss the way his complexion pales. I slip out the door and surf the darkness back toward Aendor.