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Zander stares at me like he’s been slapped.
“Ulysede,” I whisper.
He swings his focus to Gesine and rage contorts his face. “Is this true?”
“I warned you that taking the stone on Hudem might not be the only way, did I not?” Her voice is a husky whisper. “That all paths may lead to opening it?”
“Including the path you chose?” He roars, and the torches along the wall flare to three times their size. “Your insistence that we come to Stonekeep, that there was … what did you call it—a token of the nymphs’ loyalty waiting for us?” His laugh is bitter. “Suddenly sharing caves with hundreds of saplings does not sound so foreboding.”
“I did not suspect it would lead to this. But it seems we have been wrong in many things. The nymphs successfully hid what they did not wish us to see.” Gesine’s shoulders sag with a sigh. “Prophecy will always find a way.”
Silence lingers in the cave as everyone absorbs the shock.
“You should have told me. You had no right to keep me in the dark about this.” Guilt battles with anger to overwhelm my emotions.
“I was only trying to protect you. You need to focus on your training, and on uniting with Telor—”
“Fuck Telor!” I burst. “He’s the least of our problems now.”
Zander sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And yet he is our most immediate one. His men are arriving.”
“Already?” I thought we’d have another day.
“The first riders have been spotted.” He surveys the statues. “Wherever this Lucretia is, she will have to wait. Tell no one of this discovery, or what is coming.” He meets each of our eyes in turn. “No one.”
“So, that’s what a thousand soldiers look like?” From my vantage point within Ulysede’s tunnel entrance, the men are little more than specks in the distance as they set up camp. Smoke curls in the air where cook fires burn.
The Ybarisans stand in formation to the left of our gate. They’re more at ease now that Kienen has returned to them. If they’re curious to see what’s on the other side of this tunnel, none seem interested to mix with the Islorians to scratch that itch.
“I imagine they rode hard to get here and are now perplexed by what they see.” A tiny smile curls Zander’s lips. He always likes having the advantage.
But how can he care about that? How can he care about anything else right now? I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do.
I’ve opened the nymphaeum door.
Over and over, that reality has slammed into me since we left Lucretia’s crypt, and each time, a wave of panic follows. Is it true? Have I given Malachi and Sofie what they wanted? Are so many more people going to die because of me? Not Princess Romeria … I can’t blame her for this one.
I swallow against these thoughts. A queen can’t crumble, not here in front of everyone. Maybe tonight, behind the safety of my bedroom door, I can let the full weight of this crush me. If there is even time to sleep. “How long do we have?” My voice sounds hollow.
Zander looks up at the waning sun. “If I know Telor, he will approach tonight, with an ultimatum to surrender by morning. Where it leads from there, I cannot say. We may be in battle at dawn.”
I’ve already seen my share of death since I arrived in Islor, and the last thing I want is to witness war, let alone be a part of one.
“My men will return as soon as the sun drops past the horizon,” Radomir calls out from within the depths of the tunnel. “What should I expect when I cross that threshold to see them?”
“The first time the blood curse takes hold of us, it is overwhelming,” Zander warns. “I assume it will be the same for you. When it is time, we will have our caster provide some aid to you, in case your transition is more difficult than expected and you turn on us. You may speak to your men then, share the news of our alliance.”
“And send them to fetch my legionary,” Abarrane demands. “I want him back before daybreak.”
God … Abarrane. What will she do when she finds out what I’ve done?
Radomir nods, his hand smoothing over his cheek, as if trying to memorize this face before it’s taken from him again.
Zander peers at the sealed letter in his hand, at the black wax seal, the silver flecking it like stars in a night sky. We argued for an hour about how much to tell Atticus before we put ink to paper. “I fear we are putting too much faith in my brother to do the right thing.”
“If he doesn’t, that’s on him.”
“If he doesn’t, we will all pay the price. Gesine!” Zander bellows, making me jump.
