Alliance (14 page)

Selene shuddered as a gust of wind whirled around the cave, plucking at her hair. She’d worn it loose about her shoulders, probably no need to tie it back if she wasn’t riding, and it flew into her eyes and her mouth. “I am so sick of this wind!” She pulled a band out of her pocket and quickly pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. “One moment it’s calm, with blue skies, the next it’s like this. It has to be the witch’s doing, don’t you think?”

Nykin shrugged. “I can’t think of any other reason. I guess she wants to make it as hard as possible for the dragons to fly.”

“Just as well we’re grounded, then.” Selene scowled and paced the length of the cave. “Although I hate just sitting around, waiting for something to happen.” She moved back to join Nykin when they heard the familiar sound of dragon wings approaching. “I mean surely they’re going to attempt an attack soon. Why else would Seran bring half his army and set up camp on our doorstep?”

“The witch may still be recovering from her first attack, Nykin.”
Fimor swept into the cave and settled in front of them on the ground, a few small rocks skittering as he landed.
“But if she’s tampering with the weather, then that would suggest she is back to full strength. There must be some other reason.”

Nykin filled Selene in on what Fimor had told him, and she agreed. “Can the dragons sense her magic from here?” he asked as he walked over to Fimor and gestured for Selene to join him.

Fimor shifted his wing slightly, making room for both Nykin and Selene to sit with their backs leaned up against his side.
“Yes, Nykin, we can feel her. It’s like a dark cloud hovering outside the walls, but not as strong as when we were out near the border.”

Nykin shuddered. She would surely test her magic against the elves’ barrier soon, then, and after that it would only be a matter of time before she broke through. The magic surrounding Alel had been a lot stronger, and the witch there had persisted with her attempts until she had finally succeeded. Nykin couldn’t see this witch being any different—she wasn’t going to give up after the first try.

Selene let her head rest back against Fimor’s scales, and Nykin copied her. “Would you leave, Fimor? If Seran breaks through the barrier and gets into the palace, will you and the rest of the dragons flee Torsere?”

The thought had crossed Nykin’s mind too, but he’d been trying to ignore it. If they chose to break the bond between dragon and rider, then there would be no reason they couldn’t go. It would be far safer that way, considering both the witch and Seran were after them, but that didn’t stop Nykin’s chest from hurting at the prospect of losing his bond with Fimor.

“We will not leave, Nykin. We are bound to protect the people of Torsere.”

Nykin turned his head to meet Fimor’s gaze, but his dragon was facing away toward the open sky.

“But neither do we relish the idea of being held prisoner by Seran and his witch. That would not end well for any of us.”

When Selene nudged him, Nykin told her what Fimor had said, and they both sat there in silence. Nykin rolled Fimor’s words over in his mind, along with all the things he’d left unsaid. Nykin wouldn’t want Fimor, or any of the dragons, to end up in Seran’s hands, either. He knew Selene and the others would feel exactly the same way.

“Nykin?”
Fimor prodded him in the thigh with his tail.
“There’s no point speculating on what might happen. Tell me about what’s happening with the elves.”

So Nykin relaxed back against his side and filled Fimor in on the goings-on down at the palace, with Selene chipping in where she could. It appeared Lerran kept her very much in the loop.

“S
O
THAT
’
S
why it took the rest of his army so long to arrive.” Ryneq stopped his pacing long enough to look out the window of the war room. It didn’t have the same panoramic view as either his quarters or the great hall, but from this height he could easily make out the vast spread of Seran’s army, and its newest additions.

Catapults.

They were being reassembled now, from the looks of things. The huge arm being raised into position, ready to be aimed at the palace. Ryneq turned to face the others at the table behind him. “I suppose it was to be expected. Even if they breach Glaevahl’s barrier, they still have to get through our walls.”

“And they’ve held for over two hundred years, Sire. It will be no easy task.” Nysad had a map of the palace and the surrounding mountains and flatlands spread out before him, a grim look on his face. “Although they’ve never had to withstand a magical attack such as this before, have they?”

“My history is a little rusty,” Ryneq said as he pulled out a chair and sank into it. “But I don’t think this is the first attempt to breach our walls, either by magical or conventional means. The dragons themselves would know better than I.” He glanced over at Eldin, where he sat with the elves present. “Although I suspect it might be the first combined attack, and that will be the difference.”

Glaevahl closed the book in front of him and pressed his hands together before resting them on the table. “The other difference, Your Majesty, from what we can gather”—he nodded down at the book, which Ryneq recognized as one from his own library—“is that not only is this witch using old magic, she almost certainly has access to dragon’s blood. According to the records kept by your predecessors, even a small amount of blood taken from a living dragon can increase a spell’s potency.”

“May the Gods have mercy on us,” Ryneq muttered as he rested his head in his hands.

“If we assume the witch in Alel was also in possession of it,” Glaevahl added, “it would explain how she managed to breach our barrier, and also why she collapsed afterward. A spell that powerful would require a huge amount of energy from the caster.”

“Might it also explain how she can use her magic over such great distances too?” Lerran asked, and Ryneq deflated further when Glaevahl nodded.

Ryneq stayed with his head in his hands and sighed as he tried to think of some way to get them out of this. “In your opinion, Glaevahl, assuming she attacks the magical barrier protecting Torsere….” He looked up to see everyone’s gaze on him, and the weight of responsibility sat heavily on his shoulders. The elves had risked their lives by coming here to help them, and Ryneq refused to give up no matter how hopeless the situation “How long will she need to recover in between attacks?” If it held out for three attempts, as Glaevahl predicted, Ryneq needed to know roughly how long that gave them.

“If you’ll excuse us for a moment, Your Highness?” Glaevahl turned to face the other elves seated alongside him, and when Ryneq gestured for him to go ahead, they proceeded to talk rapidly among themselves. Their voices were hushed, but it made little difference as Ryneq wouldn’t have been able to understand them anyway. He watched fascinated as Glaevahl spoke in calm, measured tones, while Faelon answered with his whole body—gesticulating wildly as he rushed to get his point across. Lerran sat back, listening mostly, and only added his opinion when Glaevahl asked him directly.

This was the first time Ryneq had seen Faelon without Avelor by his side. They’d been joined at the hip ever since their arrival in Torsere, which Ryneq understood wholeheartedly after Faelon’s brush with death in Alel. Looking at him now, though, Ryneq would never have known anything had happened if he hadn’t witnessed it firsthand.

While the elves continued their discussion, Ryneq glanced back out the window and noted with a sense of satisfaction and pride the way his guards stood to attention along the outer and inner walls. He couldn’t make out their faces from here, but the way they all remained in their assigned places—no shirking their duties to chat with their fellow guards—was easy to spot.

He leaned closer to Nysad, keeping his voice lowered so as not to disturb the elves. “How are our defenses looking?”

“We have a rotating guard on the inner and outer walls at all times, Sire. Since there’s no longer a need for patrols, we have a full complement of soldiers. The elven guards with us are archers, and they have positioned themselves at intervals along the wall, along with our own archers.”

“Good.” Ryneq clapped Nysad on the shoulder. Only a small fraction of the soldiers in the Torserian Army were solely archers, but most of his soldiers knew how to handle a bow. It could prove vital when it came to defending against the upcoming attack.

Now that they were essentially trapped within the palace walls, there were other pressing matters that Ryneq needed to deal with. He’d been solely focused on defending Torsere and hadn’t had the chance to meet with his palace advisors since he’d been back, but that would have to be rectified as soon as this meeting was over. “Do you know the state of our food supplies?” he asked, not surprised when Nysad shook his head.

“Not really, Sire. The villagers brought as much as they could carry, but I doubt that will last them more than a week. I know Braydek brought in some of the livestock from the flatlands, but I’m not certain of numbers. Shall I send for him after?”

Ryneq nodded. “Yes, I think that would be wise.” If they needed to start rationing their supplies, better to start sooner than later. Thankfully the pumps and wells that supplied the palace and lower towns with water were all inside the palace walls. But food was another matter.

Glaevahl cleared his throat and caught Ryneq’s attention. He looked over at the elves to see them all sitting quietly and facing his way.

“Forgive me, Sire, the matter was easier to discuss in our own language.”

“Understandable,” Ryneq said and waited for him to elaborate.

“We’ve made many assumptions regarding this witch, based on our experiences with the one in Alel and the information from the books.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “But if she is as powerful as the last, then we would expect her to need no longer than a day to recover in between attacks. Maybe less, considering our barrier isn’t as strong as the one in Alel.”

“So when she makes her first attack, we have possibly as little as two days before the barrier fails.” Ryneq cursed under his breath. Maybe it was pointless to worry about rationing food after all.

The room lapsed into silence while that piece of information sank in. Ryneq’s gaze landed on Eldin. He’d been quiet for the meeting so far, but now leaned forward in his seat as though he had something to say. Ryneq raised an eyebrow in question.

“If the witch uses her magic to try and break through the barrier, then she needs to recover before she can try again, yes?” The elves nodded, and Eldin carried on, looking more confident in his idea. “Then does that mean she’s vulnerable to attack? Can she cast any spells during that recovery period?”

Everyone sat up straight at that, and Ryneq felt a frisson of hope flare deep in his chest.

“I would expect there to be a period where her magical capability is extremely limited, but it won’t last long and will improve exponentially with time until she regains her full power.” Glaevahl answered. “But, yes, there will be a small window of opportunity when she can’t use any magic, although we have no way of knowing how long that will last.”

“Long enough for us to mount an attack from the sky.” Eldin clenched his fists, his excitement at the prospect catching.

“What about our archers? Can we fire through the barrier?” Nysad asked, looking between Ryneq and the elves.

“Yes, the magic prevents anything other than elves from coming through, but there are no restrictions on what may leave. Your arrows will be free to find their targets.”

Ryneq stood and walked over to the window again. The sudden burst of nervous excitement filling the room set him on edge. Seran’s army still sprawled across the flatlands beyond the walls, but the sight looked a little less foreboding with this new sliver of hope.

“We need to be ready to move as soon as they mount the first attack.” Ryneq retook his seat with renewed purpose. “Eldin, as soon as we finish here, return to the Eyrie and prepare your riders to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Now….” He looked at each of them around the table in turn. “I will inform the kitchens to bring lunch to us here because I really don’t want to leave this room until we have a plan in place.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the table, and for the first time in the last few days, Ryneq talked of ways to attack instead of defend.

S
EVERAL
HOURS
later, only Nysad and Ryneq remained in the room—Eldin had left to inform his riders of their new plan of action, and the elves had gone to check on the barrier and relieve their fellow elven guards.

Ryneq poured himself goblet of wine and gestured for Nysad to do the same. Even though it was only midafternoon, he felt exhausted. But despite it all, he felt more settled than he had in a long while. At last they had a plan that involved taking the fight to their enemy, and Ryneq itched for the battle to start. The thought of the witch turning her dark magic against Torsere still terrified him, but as long as the barrier held, they would be safe. And then they could attack.

None of them were under the illusion that they’d take Seran by surprise. He would know of the witch’s recovery time and no doubt be on his guard. But without magic, the battlefield once again became somewhat equal.

Nysad set his goblet on the table and sighed. “There is something else we need to discuss, Sire.”

Ryneq looked up and saw the grim look on Nysad’s face. “You know who helped Danek escape?” Peros had interrupted them about an hour or so earlier, and Nysad had slipped out of the room to talk to him. Ryneq had been waiting for him to explain.

“Yes, Sire.”

He looked uncomfortable, more so than Ryneq had ever seen him, and all the good feelings from earlier vanished in an instant. He’d known Nysad a long time, and for him to be this reluctant to speak meant the news must be especially bad. “Just tell me what you know, Nysad.”