Chapter 17
Seventeen
ASHLAND
Noise bounces off the stone walls. Every assertive mouth in attendance thinks it has the most important piece of information for planning the counterattack. Yet nobody can agree on the right course of action. The room stinks of stress and body odor as my commanders arrive fresh from battle.
“You said to wait, and now look where that’s gotten us!”
A sheathed long sword slams on the tabletop, rattling the stacks of papers and maps strewn across it.
“Already a thousand dead, and this whore just started,” someone in the back yells.
I unclasp my hands and rise from my place at the head of the onyx table. Walking the circumference of the table, I stop in front of the detailed map of our world nailed to the wall, staring at that little dot.
The little dot that exists, after all.
The dot who proves to be no better than those before her.
A killer.
I swallow and clear my throat. The room falls silent as my quiet rage rises to the surface. With controlled calm, I order, “Let the plan commence.”