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I catch sight of my soldiers. They’re doing sword drills in the training grounds. I see Kaithar amongst them; he isn’t hard to spot. I control our landing, dropping onto the balls of my feet.
In a heartbeat, we’re just outside the entrance to the training square. I gently set Finley on her feet. “Sorry, Finley. I’m going to have to ask you to wait once more. This won’t take long.”
She straightens her jacket and gives me a wry look. “You didn’t tell me you could fly.”
“I’m still getting used to this body,” I lament. In truth, being able to move like a god with her in my arms is exhilarating and addictive.
“You’re lucky I’m not the squeamish type.”
I chuckle, genuinely delighted by her company.
It’s been so long since my mood has been this light. Even my discovery of the undead creature can’t put a dampener on it.
Finley Solisar makes me feelalive.
Did my father really know what effect she would have on me when he sent her to me?
I take her hand into mine and squeeze. She gives me a look that’s part exasperation, part astonishment.
I leave her standing by the wall. Forcing myself to move at a normal pace, I walk into the square, where the sound of men grunting and swords clanging assaults my hyper-acute hearing.
Good thing I have the dark glasses on. The sun’s glare is just a little too much.
“Keep going,” a deep voice bellows. “I want you to practice that maneuver a hundred times over. Until it feels as natural to you as breathing.”
Kaithar is already striding across the square. In spite of the cold, he’s wearing only a light shirt. His forehead is damp with sweat.
I hang back in the shadows, not wanting to create a disruption.
“You’re back already, Van?” He reaches my side. His expression tells me he knows something serious is going on, but he can’t resist the opportunity to give me a ribbing. “I thought you’d take the opportunity to spend at least one night in a well-insulated Khaturian tent with your newly betrothed. Under the stars, the snow and mountains all around… how bloody romantic.”
“We’re still going. I just returned to inform you of a little gift that’s been left for you in the woods.”
“I already don’t like it. You get to cruise off on a little jaunt into the mountains, leaving me to clean up the mess?”
“How do you know it’s a mess?”
“I just do. I’ve got Vikurian instincts. Spill it, Your Highness.”
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “In the lycan trap at the first perimeter, there’s an undead creature. Former imperial military, by the looks of what’s left of his uniform. Poor sod. The man’s long dead and departed from his body, so don’t you get any compunctions about destroying the husk. I left it animated because I want you to take a squad and study the accursed thing. Figure out the quickest and most efficient way to kill it. Then prepare for more to appear.”
Kaithar curses in Vikurian. “There’s no such thing as the undead.”
“There is now. IfIcan exist, then so can that.”
Kaithar’s expression hardens. “I’ll prepare a squad. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that this is happening now. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is linked to someone in the capital.”
“There are always going to be people that want to get rid of me,” I say quietly. “Let’s bide our time—for now, we gather intelligence and bolster our defenses. But if it escalates, Iwillact.”
“T’would be easy enough for you to go to the capital alone,” Kaithar whispers conspiratorially. “Find out who’s behind it. Kill them. With your speed and strength, it wouldn’t be difficult.”
“Patience, brother. It’s best to understand before rushing in. There might be one, or many. They might be concentrated in the capital or spread around Rahava. Best to exercise caution. I’ll take action when the time is right.”
If Aralya is alive and my reckless and impatient actions caused anything to happen to her, Finley would never forgive me.
“We’ll be back on the morn. Quietly prepare our defenses. And if I return with a Khaturian mage or two, don’t be surprised.”
“You would use magic to defend us?” A dark shadow crosses Kaithar’s face. He remembers all too well how they fought us. Bolts of flame and arrows of ice. Poisonous miasmas and mind-tricks; men descending into madness from unseen horrors, twisting in their minds. “They wouldn’t be welcomed by the troops.”
