Page 20 of Burn of the Everflame

“Well then, Vice General,” I said dryly, “my condolences on your loss.”

His face turned as scarlet as his eyes. “You broke the cease-fire!”

“We did no such thing,” Auralie cut in. “You may not recognize my daughter as Queen, but that creature does. We can no more call off its attacks than you can.”

“And it seems she does not like soldiers in her Queen’s chambers,” I added.

The Vice General looked at Alixe, who wisely did nothing more than arch a brow. He muttered something to another soldier, who took off running inside. Moments later, the remaining archers withdrew from the royal terrace. Sorae set down on her perch hard enough to send an avalanche of pebbles raining down the palace walls.

Cordellia edged toward me, looking around with uneasy eyes. “If the Crowns are here, shouldn’t their gryverns be, too?”

“Likely hiding nearby,” I said quietly. “The Crowns don’t like the gryverns to interact.”

I thought of what Diem had told me about Tybold, the Ignios gryvern, being Sorae’s long-lost love. Diem had made her a promise on our behalf to find a way to reunite them. If my theory about Diem taking a fifth Crown was correct, all it would take was a dead Ignios King.

And as it so happened, he and I had unfinished business.

I glanced up at Sorae, who stared off into the trees. Don’t worry, girl, I thought grimly. I’ll keep our promise.

Her eyes swung back to me, her head tilting slightly.

“The meeting will begin at midday,” Alixe said. She gestured inside. “If you’d like a chance to freshen up⁠—”

“No need,” Auralie said. “We’ll prepare our camp.” She pointed to a field north of the palace. “I understand there’s empty land this way, with a nearby stream?”

Alixe shot me a hard stare. The field in question was fortified with a magical barrier that even dragonfyre couldn’t pierce. It was a tool for training the Royal Guard—and a nightmare for housing royal enemies.

It was also a highly guarded secret. The only way Auralie could have known it existed was from me.

The problem was . . . I’d never told her.

I returned Alixe’s glare, giving no sign that I was as surprised by this as she was. A vein twitched along her temple. “Very well.”

“We’ll also be setting up our own patrols, both inside and outside the palace gates,” Auralie said. “Do I have your word they’ll be undisturbed?”

Alixe tensed. “That’s quite unnecessary. Under the terms of the cease-fire⁠—”

“I know the terms. I also know the Crowns.” Auralie smirked. “We’ll keep our own patrols.”

For the next few hours, the Guardians set up camp in their efficient, systematic way. We had no way of knowing how long negotiations might last, but the Crowns would not want to be separated from their realms for long, especially at wartime. The more settled in we appeared, the stronger a message it sent: We can afford to wait. Can you?

When the tents were up, the campfires were lit, and the first Guardian patrols had made their rounds, Alixe returned to escort us inside. Two cell leaders stayed behind at camp, and another stayed with the ships to keep them ready in case we needed to flee, so only Auralie, Cordellia, and myself set off to attend.

Teller came running behind us. “I want to hear what the Crowns have to say about Diem.”

“This meeting is for Guardians,” Auralie said. “You’ve made very clear you want no part of the rebellion.”

“Luther’s going,” he fired back. “He’s not a Guardian.”

“Yes, I am.”

I was as surprised as anyone to hear my admission. I’d been working alongside them for weeks, but always separate, always an other. And yet, I’d been fighting in secret for years—working against the Crowns, undermining their laws, intervening to save mortal and half-mortal lives. What did that make me, if not a rebel myself?

“Auralie,” Cordellia warned her, “if you walk in there as Diem’s mother, with her brother and her”—she waved a hand at me—“whatever he is, it will send the message that we’ve only come for her.”

“Is that so bad?” Auralie asked. “Imagine what they might offer us to leave her where she is.”

She said it so plainly, I started to think she might be willing to sacrifice Diem after all. And so did Teller—the ire in his glare was scorching.