CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
They rode hard for nine days straight, ignoring all settlements and comforts in preference for speed, stopping only for short bouts of rest and food.
The week’s delay it took for Carlile’s letter to reach them, plus their week and a day’s journey, meant anything could have happened since their last receipt of information.
Blount and his army could be anywhere on their journey to Ephria’s capital.
They could arrive to find Loclight razed to the ground for all Deckard knew.
At the start, Vayden suggested continuing with their original plan. “We could still visit Minister Molloy,” he said, his Waulden accent thickening in his worry. “He might have an update for us.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” Deckard said. “We would waste days journeying there. The Alliance needs us in Loclight. Whether we save King Ephren’s life or not, we know Blount’s destination. We can end this by stopping him now.”
Deckard knew the pace at which an army could move. They weren’t fast, but if his calculations were correct, he imagined Blount could cross the border and arrive in Ephria City by the end of two weeks. It was more than enough time to beat their small band there.
The troop rode harder than they ever had before.
Their horses showed the strain each night, and Deckard worried they’d kill them if they kept up with their blistering pace.
But they had little choice. If they arrived too late, the hundred thousand souls living in the city could be lost to Blount’s mania.
And though he felt little allegiance to King Ephren anymore, he couldn’t let himself give up his past monarch’s life either.
With the little spare time they had in the evenings, the Warriors trained with intensity.
As if the pressure was refining them, Evylin and Ethenn showed marked improvement, tapping into their magic more quickly and fighting with more control than ever.
Ilain and Isla spent extra hours working with Deckard as well, ensuring his connection to Space was as strong as possible.
Huddled over the light of the fire, Deckard and Evylin studied Attachments of the Soul from cover to cover.
It was laborious but insightful, and he discovered that they’d only scratched the surface of their Bond’s capabilities.
While they discovered it would take decades to master their new connection, certain benefits, such as sharing fragments of one another’s powers, could be tapped into presently.
Beyond that, the book helped him overcome his struggle with the Space Relic.
Deckard realized Ilain was right; he simply needed to let go of his urge for control, trusting the magic and the Bond to help him channel it correctly.
While he continued to struggle with allowing the magic to consume him, the compulsion wasn’t nearly as strong.
None of their preparation eased their fears as they inched closer to Loclight each day.
On the morning of the thirty-fifth of Radia, they crested the hill that rose before the valley of Ephria City. The spring sun hung in the west, glittering across the ónette Sea upon their evening arrival. The troop pulled their horses to a stop, devastation running through their ranks.
They’d arrived too late.
Purple banners with a golden crown imposed over a double moon had replaced the old crook and sword of Ephren’s reign.
Hundreds of tents littered the farmland before the outskirts of the city.
Siege weapons and soldiers covered the terrae.
Warships cluttered the ocean. Smoke and the dust of rubble still clouded the city air.
They couldn’t even see the palace through the dark haze.
Evylin’s hand found Deckard’s. Blount had taken their home.
In awe, they all stared, incapable of action.
“How did he lay siege to an entire city in . . .” Rafferty cast a dazed glance at the group. “Well, how long do you think it took him?”
“Blount has Mages in his army and Relics in his possession,” Ilain said coldly. “Ephren has nothing. There was no defense against magic.”
Deckard could hardly comprehend the scene before him.
His home, his city—they’d been brought low by the power of a tyrannical Mage.
Lives had been lost, friends and comrades destroyed by one man’s lust for power.
And Blount’s tyranny was only beginning.
It would continue to spread across the land . . . unless someone stopped him.
“We’re here now,” Deckard said, breaking the silence. “The city has us.”
With one final scan of the distressing scene, Deckard turned his horse.
They couldn’t just sweep through an entire war camp, hoping their power was enough.
They’d fought innumerable Shades in the Keeps, but this was different.
There were nine of them against thousands, non-magical and Mage, all at once.
They’d have to sneak into the city, find Blount, and kill him to regain control.
The others followed Deckard back into the trees. “How do we stop him?” Thom asked.
“He’ll be in the palace,” Deckard said, “setting up his reign.”
“All right,” Thom dismounted beside him, “but you can’t just walk in.”
Deckard stepped up to the tree line, observing the city.
The stone walls showed minimal damage despite the weapons of war.
He wondered if Blount’s Mages had negated the need for such tactics, the weapons’ presence perhaps a mere show of force.
Though the road to the city gate was open, no one was entering or exiting.
“It seems Blount has shut down travel,” he noted.
“I bet he’d let us in,” Rafferty snarked.
“I imagine he would,” Vayden said. “But I don’t think surrendering is our best option.”
Brea pointed to the gate. “Is that the only entrance?”
“No,” Deckard said. “There are two more gates to the east and west leading to the farms and ranches.”
“Amid those houses?”
“Yes.” Deckard gestured to the two districts in turn. “Those are the lands allocated to the farmers and ranchers. They’re far less populated than the inner city.”
Brea nodded. “There’s nowhere to hide at either gate, is there?”
“No.”
“Sneaking in isn’t going to be easy,” she said. “But it could be done . . . by the right people.”
Deckard turned to her, expectant.
Brea held his gaze, stoicism on her face. “Rafferty, Ethenn, and I could slip through,” she said. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to have the stealth for the mission.”
“What good would that do us?” Rafferty asked. “I am incredibly fearsome, but I’m not sure the three of us alone are going to do much good against an army of Mages and Blount’s four Relics.”
“We could find another passage,” Brea said. “Or we could seek out the Alliance.”
“I have a question,” Ethenn interrupted suddenly.
They turned to him.
“What’s our aim here?” he asked. “Say we get inside and kill Blount. What’s next? The entire Waulden Army waits outside the gates, plus however many Mages he has at his side. Do you expect them to listen to us, to serve us?”
Ilain gave him a snide grin. “Dear, do try to remember,” her eyes sparkled proudly, “I am a goddess in their eyes. With the Relics in hand—and your generous assistance—I could wipe out each and every person who stands in our way.”
Ethenn met her gaze dubiously. “Really?”
“No matter what you think,” she said sharply, “I’m not a liar.”
Ignoring the pointed comment, he turned back to Deckard. “What is our plan after we defeat Blount? Unleashing Ilain’s wrath?”
“Hell hath no fury,” Rafferty mocked, “like Ilain Calder.”
Though Brea and Thom smirked, Deckard drew a hand along his jaw. Ethenn’s point was valid. Even if they took the palace and defeated Blount, they’d be left with an entire army to face and would already be exhausted from the battle against the now-King of Wauld.
Seeing his hesitation, Ilain stepped forward. “Trust me,” she said passionately. “Between my power and your Bond with Evylin, we can do this. We will have all eight Relics. No one can stand in our way.”
Deckard met Evylin’s gaze then, questioning her with a look. Could they do this? Were they strong enough?
“We have little choice,” Evylin replied to his unspoken plea. “Either we fight Blount here—now—or we let him take the kingdom and wait for a better opportunity that may never come. He has four Relics. He can hole up in the city for as long as he likes, and we can do nothing to stop that.”
“He knows we’re coming for him,” Isla agreed. “After years of working with Blount, I can tell you, he’s not going to give us an easy path. We either take him today, or we hand him the reign of both countries for untold years.”
“We don’t know all our options,” Deckard argued. “What if we rush into this battle and lose when we could have waited a day or two and come out the victors?”
“Blount is weakest now,” Brea said. “He can’t have finalized his takeover yet. While his men work to subdue the city, his force is divided. Once he establishes himself—likely within days due to the Mages working alongside him—it will be nearly impossible to unseat him.”
“Acting now gives us the best odds,” Thom said with a slow nod. “The city is in turmoil, forced to submit to a false leader. They’ll not only be gratified to see Blount defeated, but once they learn it was the Alliance who did it, they’ll welcome the new rule of Allund.”
Deckard lifted his chin. It was true. If the people learned the Alliance was their savior, they’d flock to them. It was the best opportunity to win the people’s goodwill at the outset of the new nation’s establishment.
And he hesitated to afford them such a chance.
“I don’t trust the Alliance,” Deckard admitted, finally putting words to the fears he’d harbored silently for so long.
Ilain, Isla, Vayden, and Brea looked at him uneasily. Their frustration, confusion, and hurt were plain. With that declaration, it was as though he’d rejected each of them individually. By stating his distrust of the organization, he was veritably announcing his distrust of them.