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Punching his shoulder, she shoved him off balance.
His butt hit the dirt. “Fuck, Triple.”
With a grin, she stood and glanced at Westvane. “How’s our timeline?”
“Holding,” Westvane said, tossing her the water skin. “For now. But we need to move.”
Probably a good idea.
Priestly and the queen weren’t stupid. The pair might be behind a step now, but wouldn’t be for long. The time warp packed one hell of a wallop. The energy it emitted wouldn’t go unnoticed — or be ignored.
“All right, then,” she murmured, onboard with moving fast. “What’s the play? How do we get into Ipsalar undetected?”
“Wedon’t.”
Truly frowned at Westvane. “What do you mean?”
“We’re not going with him.”
Alarm bells clanged inside her head. “Hang on a —”
“Slayer,” her ex-boss growled.
“It’s the right play, Montrose,” Westvane said, holding the gargoyle’s gaze. “We go our separate ways here — you, into Ipsalar, Truly and I back to Earth Realm.”
“But…” Her protest arrived on a rasp, sounding weak. “I can’t leave him here. Alone. I can’t —”
“The Wendigo is loose, Truly. The longer it is, the more damage it will do. Humans will die if we don’t return soon.” Setting his hand on top of her shoulder, Westvane squeezed.
His gentle touch surprised her. Unbalanced her. Made her reshuffle her mental deck.
Intentional on his part? Maybe, but she didn’t think so.
He wasn’t trying to manipulate her. Strange as it seemed, Westvane meant to reassure, to calm and soothe. A huge deviation from the normal rough-and-tumble. At least, for him. One she appreciated, and if it wasn’t so important, she would’ve given him what he asked without argument.
“You don’t understand,” she said, palming his wrist to prolong the connection.
Dipping his head, he brought his face closer to hers. “Explain it to me.”
“I need to meet Brim and get into the archives. There are things I need to know. Things she might —”
“What things?” Montrose asked, nudging her.
“Azalea mentioned a prophesy, something about thechosenone, next ruler of Azlandia. The one meant to lead this land into a new era. One of equality, prosperity, and —”
“That’s you, Truly,” Westvane said, frowning.
“I don’t think so.”
“Princess —”
“Maybe in Earth Realm, but not here. I can’t explain how I know. It’s instinct, total gut reaction, but I’m notthe chosen one. Nor am I meant to be, not for the people of Azlandia.” Opening her senses wide, Truly sank deep into her own knowing. A place that felt foreign, yet true and right. Seeing the confusion on her friends’ faces, she tried to explain what she couldn’t yet prove. “I may have been slow arriving at the party, but I know who and what I am now. As a Door Master, my role is defined. It’s never been in question. But this?”
Flicking her hand toward the high walls of Ipsalar, she shook her head. “This is something else. A vital piece of the puzzle we may need down the line. Information Lyonesse is guarding. A secret she fears, something so important, so dangerous to her it has the potential to —”
“Start an uprising. The people will rebel. Raise an army and go to war against her,” Westvane said, finishing her thought.
“I’ll get it.” Rolling his shoulders, Montrose stared at The White City. “Go home, Triple. I’ll get the information you need.”
