Alliance (35 page)

Nykin had never been in any of the rooms of the first floor. The guest rooms and the royal chambers were on the second and third floors, and Nykin had spent all his time either there or out and about. The room stretched out in front of them, a long rectangular table taking pride of place in the center, with elves and riders around it—some seated, others talking in small groups.

Nykin spotted Queen Ahlyria and her husband, Nihathyl, speaking with two of the elven elders Nykin recognized from Cerylea’s wedding. As soon as Ahlyria spotted them, she excused herself and walked over to meet them.

“Nykin, Selene.” She gave Selene a soft smile of understanding and reached out to lay a hand on her arm. “Lerran is a fine soldier. He can take care of himself.”

Selene stiffened a little, then relaxed when it became obvious the queen wasn’t opposed to her relationship with Lerran and only chose to reassure her. “I hope so.”

It didn’t come as a great surprise that Ahlyria knew about Selene and Lerran—neither of them had been subtle. Nykin was just relieved she appeared to be all right with one of her royal guards being involved with a Torserian dragon rider.

“Food will be served shortly,” Ahlyria continued, leading them both over to sit at the table. “I know your riders are tired, and the hour is nearer morning than midnight,” she started, and Nykin didn’t think he’d ever get used to the riders being called “his.” “But I believe there are certain things we need to discuss before we retire.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Cerylea sat between Morkryn and Ahlyria. Nykin took the seat next to her with Selene on his other side. Jaken sat opposite them, and he offered Nykin an encouraging smile.

“Ahlyria, please, especially in these troubled times. I care not for titles and ceremony when lives are in danger.”

Nykin blushed but ignored it as best he could. He needed to be the strong leader his riders could follow, not stumble over his words and lose his nerve. He sat a little straighter in his seat and took a deep breath. “Thank you for your hospitality, Ahlyria. I’m sure everyone here is just as exhausted, but we understand the need to do this now. Shall we begin?” Nykin looked around the table, surprised to see almost everyone had now taken their seats.

The dragon riders sat interspersed with the elves, and it struck Nykin how easily they all fit together. For just a moment he expected to turn and see Ryneq’s scowling face—never truly comfortable with it all—and Nykin felt the crushing weight in his chest when he met Selene’s gaze instead.

“Everything all right?” she whispered, and Nykin nodded quickly as Ahlyria stood and addressed the table.

“Riders of Torsere, welcome to Alel.” Ahlyria smiled as she looked around the table, but it didn’t last long. “However, the circumstances that brought you here were not of my choosing.” She glanced to the side, and Nykin recognized Cahlith sitting there. “The witch who has allied herself with King Seran needs to be stopped, and we intend to see that she is. She has taken lives that were not yet meant to end, and for that she must pay.”

A hush fell around the table, the deaths of Eldin, Vashek, and Glaevahl still fresh and raw.

“I know about the dragon’s blood you have with you, and the elders here have been combing the old books to find something to help you against the witch. She has found a way to harvest elf magic now. Glaevahl told me this through the link stone before he died, and I believe this is how the witch… killed him.” Ahlyria faltered a little, and Nihathyl grasped her hand in support. “She will be much stronger with both that and the dragon’s blood when it is ready, but I believe we found a way to destroy her.” Ahlyria smiled grimly as she turned to Cahlith. “Cahlith, if you will please explain.”

Nykin felt his exhaustion slip away as he leaned forward in his seat, eager to hear what the elves had discovered. He knew from Ryneq that the elves were in constant contact with Alel during their time in Torsere. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the elders had already been working on a way to kill the witch.

The elves’ plan sounded simple enough—amulets for all of them to protect against the witch’s power, and one to draw her magic out and render her powerless. They hadn’t discussed the finer details of the plan, but a volunteer would be needed to carry the stone to drain her power. Nykin had no doubts about who that would be.

They still had just over four days until the dragon’s blood would be ready, though. And Nykin prayed they wouldn’t be too late.

By the time the meeting finished, and everyone had eaten, it was almost dawn.

“Nykin, Selene, I’ve put you in the rooms you had last time,” Ahlyria said as they both stood to leave. “The others also have rooms along the second floor. I know you’ve brought nothing with you, so I’ve taken the liberty of providing you with a few things. That goes for all your riders, Nykin.”

Nykin bowed his head in respect. “Thank you. Your generosity is very much appreciated.”

Ahlyria sighed and placed a hand on Nykin’s arm. “It is the least I can do. Our realms are joined now, our alliance strengthened through love and loss. I would expect nothing less of King Ryneq, were our positions reversed.” She stepped back into Nihathyl’s embrace. “Good night, Nykin, Selene. Sleep well. I fear the next few days will be long ones.”

Nykin caught up to the rest of the riders before they were escorted to their rooms by the waiting elves. “I won’t keep you long. The day has lasted long enough already.” Nykin sighed, looking around at them all, until his gaze landed on Jaken. Jaken nodded ever so slightly, urging Nykin to carry on, and it gave him the boost he desperately needed. “I would much rather Eldin be here in my place, giving you this talk, but he isn’t. I swear upon my life, I will do my best to honor the faith Eldin placed in me. When the time comes, I will lead you to Torsere to take back what Seran has stolen. And we will make sure the witch dies for what she did.”

Silence followed, and for one awful moment, Nykin thought he’d messed up, but then one by one, the riders came forward and clasped his arm in silent acknowledgement. Jaken and Selene were the last two remaining.

“You did good.” Jaken wrapped an arm around Nykin’s shoulder and pulled him in. “We all needed to hear that.”

Selene nodded in agreement. They all walked together up the stairs and along the passageway. Jaken’s room was in the opposite direction, so he bid them both good night and left Selene and Nykin alone.

They reached Nykin’s door first, the ornate carving as beautiful as ever. He ran a hand over the delicate wood, the excitement he’d felt on his previous visit replaced with longing. The last time he’d been in Alel, he’d experienced it all with Ryneq by his side, and he felt his absence more than ever as he stood in front of the familiar door.

He turned to face Selene, taken by surprise when she suddenly threw her arms around him. “I hope they’re all right, Nykin.” She buried her face in his chest, and he hugged her close.

“Me too.” He wanted so much to say that they’d get them back and everything would be fine, but he couldn’t. He held her a little tighter instead. “Good night, Selene.”

“Night.” She mumbled it into his shoulder before easing back with a small smile and heading to her own room.

Nykin watched her go, putting off opening his door until Selene rounded the corner and moved out of sight. With a heavy sigh, Nykin pulled on the door and went inside. Naturally it looked exactly the same as when they’d left. The huge bed, beautifully made up, would be inviting if it didn’t hold memories that made his breath catch.

But he was tired to the point where he just needed to sleep before he fell down; he’d face everything else in the morning. Well, later in the morning. With his boots kicked off, and his uniform folded over the chair next to the bed, Nykin slipped under the covers and closed his eyes, praying that those in Torsere were being allowed to do the same.

T
HE
BODIES
of the fallen Torserian Guard had all been moved when Ryneq found himself shoved through the doors to the palace. The floor of the passageway still held evidence of their deaths, though—dried blood splattered across the stone. Ryneq refused to look away as he passed. Each mark fueled his resolve to stay alive and ensure Seran and the witch answered for what they’d done.

Lerran began to stir as they descended the steps leading to the cells. His head lolled back and forth, the guard carrying him taking no care whatsoever. He opened one eye, focused in on Ryneq walking behind him, and Ryneq quickly shook his head. It would be better for Lerran if they thought him unconscious for a little while longer. Lerran shut his eye immediately and remained lax and pliant over the guard’s shoulder.

Angry voices drifted out from the cells as they neared them, and Ryneq felt a wave of relief as he recognized one of them.

Nysad.

He’d assumed the worst as soon as the witch told them of the false surrender. He didn’t imagine Nysad would give up without a fight or that he’d ever believe Ryneq had willingly given up. To know that the captain of his guard was still alive gave Ryneq at least some hope that they might yet survive this.

“He needs the palace physician or he’ll die!” Nysad shouted. The sound echoed along the cell walls, and Ryneq tensed.

Who would die?

“Why bring him all the way down here if you’re just going to let him die anyway?”

“I told you, King Seran will be here soon enough. There’s nothing I can do.” The soldier sounded truly sorry he couldn’t help, and from the answering sigh from Nysad, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

The Rodethian guard carrying Lerran shouted out as they approached. “Got another two for you. Where d’you want ’em?”

“Over there.” The rattling of keys followed by the creak of a cell door being opened were the only warning Ryneq got before the guards grabbed him and shoved him forward into the cell next to Nysad. They dumped Lerran on the ground next to him—where he remained unmoving—and then locked the door.

“There, Your Highness.” The guard who’d carried Lerran rubbed his arm as he spoke. “How d’you like your new rooms?” He grinned, turning to look at the other guards. “Better get used to them. I hear Seran’s getting cozy in the king’s quarters as we speak.” They all laughed then, and Ryneq schooled his features into something hopefully resembling nonchalance.

The thought of Seran anywhere near his parents’ rooms made him seethe inside, but he’d fall on his own sword before he let these guards know that. He ignored their obvious amusement as they continued to try to get a rise out of him and focused on the cell next door.

Nysad nodded in greeting but kept silent. Ryneq wouldn’t talk to Nysad with the guards still listening in, but he wanted to see whom he shared his cell with. Nysad leaned a little to the side, affording Ryneq a partial view of the body lying next to him. Only the side of the man’s face was visible from this angle, but Ryneq knew straightaway whom it belonged to.

Even with most of it covered in dried blood, Ryneq would recognize Peros anywhere
—
he’d been a member of Ryneq’s personal guard for a long time. His initial relief at seeing him alive didn’t last long, though. No one else occupied the cell with Nysad, so that meant Peros was the one near death. Ryneq couldn’t see enough of him to ascertain his injuries, but he trusted Nysad to know if they were fatal or not.

Finally the guards who’d brought them down there left, shouting and laughing without a backward glance to the cells. Only two Rodethians remained, but they looked more bored than anything, and certainly paid little attention to their prisoners.

“I knew it wasn’t you.” Nysad looked at the floor as he spoke. “I knew there was no way you’d surrender like that. But it caused enough confusion for them to gain the upper hand.”

Ryneq nodded in understanding. “How bad is he?” he whispered, trying not to attract attention.

Nysad glanced down at Peros beside him. “Bad. He got stabbed in the thigh, cut his head when he fell back against the wall, I think. It didn’t seem too serious when they first brought him in, but he’s lost a lot of blood since.” He sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. “If he doesn’t see Djilak soon, I’m not sure he’ll survive.”

“What about you?” Ryneq noticed a jagged rip in the arm of Nysad’s uniform, and he gestured to it with a nod. “Are you hurt?”

Nysad shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Ryneq didn’t press. If Nysad didn’t think it worth mentioning, then Ryneq wouldn’t make an issue of it. There wasn’t much he could do about it anyway. As soon as the guards were occupied, he reached out and prodded Lerran with the toe of his boot. “Lerran? How do you feel?”

Lerran grunted and shifted ever so slightly so he could open his eyes without the guards seeing. “Weak but getting better. Whatever that spell was, it was some of the darkest magic I’ve ever felt. I don’t know why it affected me like that, either.”

Lerran closed his eyes for a moment, and Ryneq watched as he took several deep breaths, the color slowly returning to his skin. “What of Vashek and Eldin?”