72. Lilias
Lilias
THE ALLIED KINGDOMS
Elrick insisted we take a full day to recover from our journey, and so it’s only now, as the sun sinks over the mountains and the heat of the day begins to ebb, that we meet in the room at the top of the old hunting lodge.
All the windows are open, letting in a soft breeze and murmurs from a dozen conversations in the courtyard below.
The walls are lined with sleeping rolls; Elrick’s men-at-arms must still be staying here, in the room that once belonged to our father.
Elrick and Anura sit at the table, with Owain standing behind them.
Gerard leans against the wall by the door, somehow looking even more exhausted than he did when we were escaping through the mountains.
Petrys stands next to Zarek, ignoring Gerard with a prickly intensity that makes me feel like the two of them are about to come to blows. Or maybe to start kissing again.
Elrick clears his throat. “Please,” he says, “take a seat.”
There is a row of chairs in front of the desk. I take one, and so does Zarek. Petrys hesitates before taking a third chair. Elrick glances at Gerard, who shakes his head and stays right where he is.
“Lilias,” my brother says, meeting my gaze before turning to my husband, “Zarek. Petrys. We’ve received this. It came to the Council of Mayors, and they passed it on to our messenger.”
Elrick bends over the table and unfurls a roll of parchment. I recognize several of the seals, but I’m not close enough to decipher the script.
“That’s the king of Lisal’s seal,” Zarek says, frowning at the parchment. “And that’s from Aning,” he says, pointing to another blob of wax. “And Wesing. Hells, that’s Creoria.”
Zarek turns to Elrick. “They’re calling a conference of the Seven Allied Kingdoms?”
“Yes,” Elrick nods. He looks grim. “They’re calling a conference in Lisal.”
“Lisal is Malrik’s next target,” Zarek says. “That’s not exactly a secret. He announced it to his entire ballroom.”
“That’s probably why Lisal is hosting the conference,” Petrys replies. “Gathering all the kingdoms together so Vsenrog doesn’t pick them off one by one.”
“Well, it’s about fucking time,” Gerard announces.
Petrys makes a noise in the back of his throat as Gerard walks over to the table.
“Maybe now those bastards will actually do something about Vsenrog,” Gerard continues. “After all, what’s the point of the Seven Allied Kingdoms if they aren’t going to actually act like fucking allies?”
“Vsenrog will also be there,” Petrys says, his voice low and dangerous. “Whether they were invited or not.”
Gerard laughs. “So? They’ll be outnumbered.”
“They’ll have the weapon,” Zarek says.
The room falls silent. Elrick leans back in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“He’s right,” Elrick says. “I’m sure Vsenrog will be there, and I’m sure they’ll bring their damned weapon. Marion was invited to attend the conference, but why? Do the other kingdoms actually want to help us, or are they trying to sell us off to gain favor with Malrik?”
“Like Prince Laurance,” Zarek says, in a low voice.
“So what?” Gerard snaps. “Are you saying you want to stay here? Hide out and hope Vsenrog just goes away?”
“I thought you didn’t want to be in Lisal when Vsenrog’s army invaded?” Zarek replies.
“That was before I knew they were calling a conference of the Seven Allied Kingdoms,” Gerard says. “Malrik would have to be insane to invade during a conference and piss off all the kingdoms at once. And you’re the one who said we needed allies!”
Everyone starts talking at once. I wrap my fingers around the carved wooden armrests of my chair and try not to think about the look on my brother’s face in the stables of Ethiria, when the guards started to examine the stalls.
Just before Zarek stood up and sacrificed himself so Elrick and Anura could escape.
The idea that first came to me when we rode away from the gates of Vsenrog with our heads down and our hoods up whispers through my mind again.
I know where we should go. And it’s not Lisal.
“He’s right,” Petrys says.
His voice is so calm, so cold, that it cuts through the din like a blade. I turn to stare at him as the room falls silent once more.
“Gerard is right,” Petrys says. “You do need allies. You can’t hide here forever.”
“Why not?” I snap. “Isn’t that what Dungal is doing?”
“But your royal family is still alive,” Petrys replies. “And Malrik knows it. As long as Elrick survives, there’s a whisper of hope for Marion. There’s a reason for all the farmers and ranchers in this valley to fight against Vsenrog.”
“Shit,” Elrick mutters.
“They would fight even without Elrick,” I say.
“You’re probably right,” Petrys says, with a shrug. “Still. You can’t keep this place hidden for long. Not if Malrik is trying to find it. And he will be trying to find it.”
From behind my brother, Owain barks a laugh. It’s a cold, humorless sound.
“Great,” Owain says. “March into Lisal before Vsenrog’s armies invade or wait here for those armies to find us? We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t, aren’t we?”
Petrys and Zarek exchange a glance. Petrys turns away, then back to Elrick.
“I have—contacts,” Petrys says slowly. “In Lisal. They may be able to help you.”
Gerard snorts. “Your soldier friends?”
Petrys glares at him. Zarek clears his throat.
“Petrys has spent his life working to undermine the Kingdom of Vsenrog,” Zarek says in a soft voice. “And I’ve helped him in every way I can.”
Elrick’s mouth falls open again. Gerard’s eyes widen. Petrys pulls himself up in his chair.
“I have a wide network of associates across the Seven Allied Kingdoms,” Petrys says. “Some of them are centered in Lisal. I can’t promise anything, of course, but I do know several powerful people who have a vested interest in watching Vsenrog burn.”
“Shit,” Gerard says, under his breath. “You’re a godsdamned spy.”
Petrys ignores him and turns back to Elrick.
“King Malrik took me from my home when I was little more than a child,” Petrys says. “Two years later, he burned Dungal to the ground. Hopefully you’ll understand why I never felt a surplus of loyalty for the Kingdom of Vsenrog.”
“Of course,” Elrick says.
“You may have more allies than you think,” Petrys continues. “Many people want to see the end of Malrik’s reign, especially now that he’s unleashed this weapon.”
Elrick and Anura turn to each other, their eyes meeting for a heartbeat. The glance that passes between them seems to carry an entire conversation. Finally, they turn back to Petrys.
“Thank you,” Anura says, looking first to Petrys, then to Zarek. “We’re grateful for any help you can provide. Both of you.”
Gerard coughs loudly. “One more thing,” he says. “Zarek. Are you going to tell them about your magic bullshit, or am I?”
Magic? Zarek glances down at the table, then back up at me. He looks almost like he’s in pain.
“Magic,” Elrick says. “Like Malrik’s weapon?”
“No,” Zarek says.
“Yup,” Gerard says.
The two men stare at each other.
“Just like the fucking weapon,” Gerard says, in a cold, low voice that’s almost a growl.
Zarek sighs. “It’s not the same.”
“Okay,” Elrick says, and I can tell that he’s trying to hold on to his temper. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”
Zarek sighs again, then turns to my brother.
“Malrik’s weapon is an elf named Varitan,” Zarek says. “He has—magic. When he uses it, he can rip a hole in the ground. A hole that’s big enough to swallow an army.”
“Gods above,” Elrick mutters.
“The cloud,” Anura whispers. “When we were escaping Ethiria, we saw a cloud rising over the castle.”
Zarek nods. “That was dust. Debris from the place where the ground split. Malrik used the weapon against Ethiria’s servants and workers, all the castle staff their prince put in military outfits. Varitan did his magic, ripped the earth apart, and they just—fell.”
“Like the Kingdom of the Fall,” I blurt.
Everyone turns to stare at me.
“The elves of the Kingdom of the Fall were locked underground,” I continue, “after losing their war with the Kingdom of the Summer, right? Until a magical weapon from the dragons let them out.”
“Shit,” Zarek hisses. “That’s where I’ve heard of it. That’s what’s on the other side of Vederill Pass. Dragons and the Kingdom of the Fall. That’s where the elves escaped from their underground prison.”
I swallow hard. Elrick and Anura stare at me with wide eyes. Zarek shakes his head, and Petrys looks like he’s about to be sick.
“That’s where we should go,” I announce. My voice comes out high and tight, like it’s being pinched. “We should cross Vederill Pass.”
Elrick shakes his head. Gerard laughs, like an explosion in his mouth.
“Why?” Anura asks.
“Because this kind of magic has been used before,” I say. “And that means someone over there knows how it works. They might even know how it can be stopped.”
Elrick pinches the bridge of his nose. Anura gives me a sad little smile.
“That’s where Varitan is going,” Zarek says in a somber voice.
“I found his plans, his contracts with Malrik. He’s crossing Vederill Pass once Malrik’s done with him.
Honestly, he might only be working with Malrik so he can get enough soldiers to cross Vederill Pass.
And I think I know what he’s looking for. ” Zarek takes a breath. “His son.”
Petrys mutters a string of curses under his breath.
“That’s all the more reason for us to go,” I say. “Before Varitan gets there. What if we can find what he’s looking for? What if we can stop him?”
“Shit,” Gerard mutters. “Princess, listen to yourself.”
I turn to him and frown. Gerard meets my gaze. He looks older, in the fading light. Older and somehow sadder.
“That magic bullshit,” Gerard says, waving his hand in the vague direction of Vsenrog. “That’s not our problem.”
“What?” I ask.
Gerard sighs, then looks at Elrick. “You and your brother, you’re all that’s left of the Kingdom of Marion.
And this dipshit here,” he waves his hand at Petrys.
“He’s got a point. Malrik will come looking for you.
If you stay here, you’re endangering everyone who’s trying to rebuild their lives in this valley. ”
Elrick winces, but he doesn’t disagree. My hands twist together at my waist.
“If Marion is going to have even one chance in the nine hells of surviving this damn war, then you need the Allied Kingdoms,” Gerard continues.
“All the kingdoms that are left. Wherever you might find them. What you do not need to do is to charge off across Vederill Pass, looking for something that might not even exist, trying to be godsdamned heroes.”
The room falls silent. Distant laughter drifts up through the open window. Laughter from the people Malrik’s armies would slaughter if they knew Elrick and I were here.
“He’s right,” Zarek finally says. His voice is as soft as the dusk claiming the sky outside the window.
He turns to me, and the expression on his face is so sad that I have to squeeze my fingers together to keep from reaching for him.
“Even if we could find what happened to the Kingdom of the Fall,” he says, “there’s no reason to think that knowledge would be freely given, or that it would help us.
Hells, Varitan’s son might be even worse than Varitan. And—”
He takes a breath, then glances at Gerard. Gerard nods at him, almost like he’s granting Zarek permission. Zarek gives me a sad half-smile that looks almost like an apology, then turns back to Elrick and gives him a strangely formal little bow.
“Prince Elrick,” Zarek says. “The weapon. Varitan’s magic. I might be able to stop it.”