CHAPTER 6
KADE
Two Hundred Years Ago — Goreon Kingdom
RHETT CARRIES HIS WEEPING mother into our house while Riot holds the door.
The entire Central outfit files in through the foyer, forty Hunters filling our space beyond capacity.
“If anyone needs suturing, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Grace says, striding for the doorway to hide the tears pooling on her lashes.
Riot follows her.
“Mother Hollie,” I say, kneeling next to the couch as she sobs into her hands. “I am sorry. Lou meant something to all of us, and we mourn with you. Know that you’re not alone.”
She looks up from her hands, her strawberry hair matching the blotching in her face. “Thank you. And you have nothing to be sorry for, Kade.”
I swallow. “Forever may he rest.”
She nods, tears running before her voice quivers out, “Forever may he rest.”
“We’ll travel to Mortifer tomorrow to bury Lou.”
She shakes her head. “He wouldn’t want you to waste the time with what’s in front of you.”
I huff a laugh. “Gods, isn’t that the truth—”
A forced smile cracks her dried lips.
“Rest, Mother Hollie. We’re going to Mortifer,” I assure her as she leans into Rhett’s side, and he holds her as soft cries tumble out of her again.
Rhett’s sad eyes meet mine, and I tap a fist against his knee.
After two orchestrated attacks, a captured Hunter, and the death of one of our own to be entombed in Mortifer Fortress, we need to convene everyone.
All of the Hunters left in Goreon will travel to Mortifer.
Because this is war now.
I push up from my knees and head for the kitchen, leaning into the doorframe.
“My office,” I tell Riot and Grace, and they follow me in silence down the dim hallway and into my den.
I cross the midnight blue area rug to the fireplace, wood-paneled walls encasing the room in a hickory warmth. Once the door thuds shut, Riot’s mouth spills a slew of burning curses that might set fire to the logs I’m stacking.
“We share the same sentiment,” I confess, snatching the canister from the mantle and blasting fire into the hearth.
“I can’t fucking believe this. Let’s just take the castle in the morning.”
“We’re not doing that,” I tell Riot as Grace flops into my armchair, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Riot snorts. “This is why you’re the Captain.”
I tuck the note that was nailed to Lou’s tavern door into my journal, signed by the king of Goreon. There’s no doubt who has Sam, but we won’t be following the instruction written on that parchment: “Consider him lost.”
Yeah fucking right.
Riot slumps into the armchair next to Grace and scrubs at his face.
I glance down at myself, blood crusting on my exposed forearms, my clothing soaked. This is why we have leather chairs. Much easier to clean.
I inspect the deep, seeping slice across my wrist. They sent talent into that bar tonight.
“They knew how to fight again,” I say, glancing over at Riot.
He leans forward. “Yeah. They did. How many was that?”
“Forty-six,” I say, my magic sparks in response, droplets pattering against my veins.
“How many more do you think they have?”
“An army,” I say.
“Yeah, well, so do we,” Riot growls.
I grab the suturing kit from my desk to work on my arm.
Riot’s rounded shoulders droop forward as he sinks further into the armchair. “Anything from Sam?”
I shake my head, taking the third seat, and thread the needle. “I can’t feel his magic.”
Grace curls around herself, my enormous chair swallowing her.
Riot exhales, his bloodied boots gleaming as he stretches his legs out. “Shit.”
“Why did they take him?” Grace whispers, staring into the flames.
“I can think of two reasons. And you’re not going to like either of them, Grace,” I say, stabbing at myself with the needle.
Her shining green eyes meet mine, begging for an answer.
My lips press into a thin line. “I think they intend to study their enemy and force our hand to attack.”
If the Goreon king is aware we’re at half strength, that makes his play even more strategic.
Grace’s face darkens. “We’re getting him back. I’m not letting my brother rot in that castle.”
Riot stands, striding for the bar behind my desk. “I need a drink. All that fighting ruined my buzz.”
He pours out three shots and brings them over, along with the bottle.
“To Lou,” he says, handing me one, and I pause on the suturing.
“To Lou, forever may he rest,” I say, clinking my glass with theirs.
Grace scowls at my half-sutured, filthy arm. “Hunter,” she scolds, batting my hand away from the needle and lowering to her knees between my legs to work on my wound.
“Thank you, my love.”
She peers up at me. “We need a plan. I want into that castle as soon as possible.”
I sweep the bangs out of her eyes. “Aye.”
Looking above her to Riot, I address my Central station leader. “I’ll send the Hunter call to travel to Mortifer. We’ll convene every Hunter left in Goreon and prepare for war.”
My magic spins with approval.
Riot’s eyes blaze. “At half strength, in the dead of winter, with rage boiling over a captured Hunter—” He slams another shot. “Perfect timing, Kade.”
A laugh huffs from my chest as Grace ties off the suture in my arm. “We don’t have a fucking choice.”
Riot grins. “You mistake me. I love the plan; it’s perfectly insane.”
Yes, it is.
The Hunter within simmers with the call of duty. “We leave in the morning. Make sure Central is ready to move out.”
“Aye, Captain,” Riot says, standing and yanking open the door.
He pauses in the doorway, eyes landing on Grace. “Swords at our backs.”
Grace spins on her knees to Riot. “Hearts at our fronts,” she responds, voice shaking.
He smiles sweetly at her. “We’ll get Sam out of there, Grace.”
She nods, and Riot disappears behind the closing door.
I exhale a heavy breath, and Grace turns back to me, climbing into my lap.
I wrap my arms around my wife as her head finds home on my shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s time,” she whispers.
I squeeze her tighter. “It’s our moment in history, and I can’t wait to share it with you. But I’m sorry this is how it’s happening.”
She nods against my neck, and my palm encases her thigh as she lifts her head.
“Forever may we reign,” Grace whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek.
I swipe it away. “Forever may we reign.”
She peers at my face. “You need rest.”
My body droops at her words. Our magic takes a toll on our physical selves. Our power hands us the ability to wield and perform beyond what our physical body is capable of, leaving an aftermath that feels like I ran up a mountain and back down it in a single day. But sleep heals and resets us.
I scoop Grace into my arms, standing with ease. “Do I?”
“Yes,” she says, kissing me as I stride for the door.
I carry Grace upstairs, and we wash and settle in bed, falling asleep entangled together but not before I send my magic’s call across Goreon, summoning everyone to Mortifer.
If war is what the king wants, war is what we’ll give him.
And then I offer a prayer to the gods to guide us to the other side of it and give us our Hunter back.
Blowing out a breath, I stare at my breakfast and know I should eat, but the weight of our future spasms inside me, and my appetite is somewhere beneath the mayhem.
I’ve been reaching out my magic to Sam all night, but there’s no response. They must be keeping him unconscious.
At least he’s not dead.
I just need Sam to hold on for a couple days. And I know he can; he’s stubborn and strong.
“Papa is going to lose his shit,” Grace whispers beside me, her meal also untouched.
Gods.
Master Hull is a fierce man and the eldest Hunter. He resides in Mortifer Fortress, overseeing our libraries, our training facilities, our weapons, and our dead.
And the king has his son.
I’m going to get my ass handed to me today.
“We need to move out,” I say, standing and leaving my breakfast behind.
“Aye,” Riot says, lumbering into the living room. “Hunters! Round up!” he yells.
We bundle into coats and emerge into the dreary winter morning, all of Central gathering in the small courtyard of our manor.
Rhett and five Hunters march down the steps; Lou’s body is wrapped and suspended on a cot between them. Mother Hollie is the last out of the house in mourning black, and we wait for her to descend the creaking stairs.
Lou leads the way, our procession following his body to Mortifer.
Hunters from all over Goreon—Northern, Eastern, and Western outfits—are all traveling today to join us. We’ve spread out over Goreon Kingdom the last several decades, protecting towns as far as we dare to reach from our fortress.
Eagerness pulls me toward this war like a beast to blood. Instinct I can’t ignore yanks a cord taut within me, tethering me like a vessel to an anchor at the bottom of a vicious ocean. There is no other path but one.
One destination. One mission. One result.
And I will plunge into whatever depths are required to take out my enemy and save my Hunter.
We march away from Southend toward the eastern mountain range, snaking back trails and plunging our way through thick forests and deep snow. Grace’s breath heaves beside me as we trudge through winter’s misery.
After hours of hiking and frozen feet in our boots, majestic mountains rise before us when we emerge from the dense forest. Slabs of rough rock and glistening stone reach into the clouds, disappearing from view, like the gods dripped the mountains from their fingertips.
The height of this range makes crossing over it next to impossible. We’ve never attempted it.
We trail across the plain to the edge of the closest mountain, and I watch Lou and his bearers disappear into it.
The rest of Central follows, and then Grace scurries through the crevice in the thick stone wall, Riot bringing up the rear behind me, and we vanish into the mountain range at the edge of Goreon territory.