Alliance (30 page)

“I don’t know.” Lerran frowned. “I can sense her magic, so she’s close.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and Ryneq caught a flash of purple light around the cuff on his wrist. “According to Nykin, Fimor can sense her too, and her magic is almost back to full strength. She took a lot from Faelon and Glaevahl. Maybe more than we first thought.”

“Then where is she?” Ryneq paced, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he itched to join the battle.

“Sire.” Lerran waited for Ryneq to look up before continuing. “Nykin said he’s sending two riders back to the Eyrie, their dragons have arrows in their wings.”

Ryneq tensed. “Good, tell him not to take any unnecessary risks. We need them to be able to fly.”

Lerran went quiet while he relayed the message, then choked out a laugh, attempting to cover it up by coughing. “He said ‘of course,’ Sire.”

Ryneq doubted very much that Nykin’s reply was that succinct, but he let it go with a smirk. They hadn’t heard anything banging against the main gates, so maybe the dragons had destroyed the battering ram before it got started. More of them had since returned to the Eyrie, but at least half his riders remained, cutting great swaths through the Lowland camp. Fires littered the ground, sweeping through the rows of tents, leaving blackened rags in their wake.

The loss of life would be great, particularly on Seran’s side, it seemed, but Ryneq didn’t allow himself to feel guilty. The tide might look as though it was turning in their favor, but that nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. “Something’s not right.” He turned to Lerran expecting him to disagree, because from all accounts things were going far better than they expected. But Lerran looked just as concerned as Ryneq felt.

“I agree. There is no sign of the king or his witch. Seran is greedy, and sadistic, but he’s not stupid. Now would be the time to—”

An explosion down near the front of the outer wall cut through the air, making Ryneq’s ears hurt and shocking everyone atop the wall into silence. The ground shook, and for a moment Ryneq assumed the witch had finally joined the battle.

Lerran seemed to read his mind because he shook his head, shouting, “It’s not the witch.”

Ryneq’s ears were ringing, and the whole thing reminded him of when the bridge over the Neest River had collapsed under their feet. Clouds of dust sprayed up into the air, blanketing part of the north wall and obscuring it from view.

One of the soldiers Peros had sent to the gate rode into the courtyard behind them, his horse panting and chomping at its bit. “Sir!” he shouted up to Peros, who immediately turned and ran down the steps to meet him.

Ryneq followed, with Lerran right behind him.

“They blasted through the north wall.” The guard reined in his horse as it tossed its head, but didn’t dismount. “There’s a hole about ten feet wide, and I’m not sure how long we can keep them out. They just keep coming.” He looked out of breath but not panicking, and Ryneq felt a rush of pride for the members of his guard.

“Son of a Rodethian whore!” Ryneq yelled, causing the guard’s horse to startle. Clearly Seran didn’t need the witch to break through their walls.

Peros barked orders for half the remaining men to go down to the north gate. He told the rest of them to watch the gates to the inner wall and be ready to close and barricade them if their own men had to retreat.

“Lerran,” Ryneq said, pulling him to the side. “Contact Nykin. Tell him to look out for anything like that along the rest of the wall, and destroy it. We can’t afford any more breaches.” If they’d done it once, then Ryneq expected them to have more of whatever they’d used to blow a hole in his wall.

“Sire.” Peros turned to salute him. “I have orders to escort you into the palace as soon as the outer wall is breached.”

This had been one part of the plan Ryneq had argued against. He didn’t want to run away and hide behind the palace walls while his men fought and died for their kingdom, but Nysad had insisted it was the only way. If Torsere fell, Seran would only deal with a king. So Ryneq had grudgingly agreed. But he was going to leave it until the last possible moment. “The wall still stands for now, Peros. If the guard retreats, then I will go.”

Peros looked uncomfortable with Ryneq clearly overriding his orders from Nysad. But since Ryneq was his king, Peros bowed his head.

“Of course, Sire.”

Ryneq headed back to the steps, intent on seeing the damage if the dust had cleared, with Peros close by his side. When they reached the top of the wall, Ryneq’s stomach dropped. The dust had settled enough for them to see, and the hole looked big from where they stood—it must seem huge for those trying to defend it. But his guards held their own. With help from the remaining dragon riders, they were managing to keep Seran’s men out for now.

Ryneq turned as he heard footsteps behind him.

Lerran ran up the last few steps and came to stand next to him and Peros. “It’s a good thing you have tunnels under the palace to hide the villagers.” He glanced at the small houses lining the streets below, and Ryneq nodded in agreement. “If only they could escape from the palace that way too.”

“I know.” Ryneq sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. His people were safe for the moment, but he couldn’t predict what Seran would do if he got his hands on the palace, and they couldn’t remain down there for too long. “My father had them sealed with good reason at the time. There’s only a couple of other ways out of the palace, but none that would fit all those—”
Oh Gods.
How could he have forgotten?
That
was the something that had been nagging at him this whole time. “Come on!” Ryneq was already halfway down the steps before Peros and Lerran moved.

“Your Highness?” Lerran called after him, running to catch up with Peros hot on his heels.

Ryneq tried to calm his breathing as his mind flipped through all the possibilities of what his revelation could mean. “There’s another tunnel.” He raced across the courtyard, shouting back over his shoulder and noticed Peros grab some of the guards as they passed.

Lerran understood straight away. “The witch? But how would she know?”

“Kalis knew.” Ryneq couldn’t believe he’d not thought about it sooner. The witch would have gotten everything she could out of Kalis. Whether Kalis knew she’d given away so much, Ryneq couldn’t be sure. He wanted to believe she’d been sorry in the end, but this was the one piece of information that could cost them everything.

They all skidded to a halt as the guards scrambled to open the main doors to the palace. Ryneq prayed he was wrong, but all his instincts were screaming at him. He should have trusted that odd feeling in his gut. He’d had it for days and done nothing about it. “Peros.” Ryneq grabbed him by the arm as they hurried through the palace doors. “Take as many men as you can and go to the kitchens.”

Peros looked confused. “Sire?”

“There’s a small recess in the far wall, behind the storage cupboards. You can’t see it unless you walk down there, but there’s a door.” He squeezed Peros’s shoulder, trying to convey the urgency of their situation. “It leads all the way down to the bottom of the mountain, and I think Seran and the witch are using it to get inside the palace.”

Peros’s eyes widened, and Ryneq didn’t miss the way his hand instinctively went for his sword.

“I need you to seal that door with anything you can get your hands on.”

“Yes, Sire.” He ordered ten of the guard to stay with Ryneq and led the others through the passageways toward the kitchens.

Ryneq took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. If his theory turned out to be correct, then they weren’t holding their own at all. The attack on the palace walls had been a diversion while Seran and the witch came up through the tunnel. It would take time for them to travel from the base of the mountain to the palace, but the attack had been going on for a while now, and Ryneq hoped they weren’t already too late. He’d never thought it would come to this, despite insisting that they be prepared, but he really had no other choice now. “Lerran, tell Nykin all riders must return to the Eyrie. You’re leaving for Alel.”

“What?” Lerran shook his head, but Ryneq turned away. He didn’t have time to argue. “If the witch gets inside the palace, then you will need our help more than ever!”

Ryneq ordered five of the guards up ahead to watch the Eyrie steps and kept the remaining five to watch their back. “Lerran, if the witch managed to siphon Faelon’s and Glaevahl’s energy once, then she will do it again. It’s not safe for you here.”

“But together we can fight her. The spell took us by surprise last time.”

Ryneq sighed in relief when he heard voices coming from the library and prayed all of them were in there. “Lerran.” He paused before going inside. “As much as I would appreciate some magic on my side, I will not have the dragon riders within the witch’s range if she gets inside the palace. I’m going to send them away, and this will be your one chance to go with them.”

“I understand, Your Highness.” Lerran’s voice was steady, resigned.

Ryneq clapped him on the shoulder and walked into the room. He hadn’t been lying. He would love to keep the elves here with him rather than face the witch with no magic at all, but this wasn’t their war, and they had done enough. He wouldn’t ask them to risk their lives more than they already had.

Thankfully, all the elves were in the library. Glaevahl looked much better already, seated on one of the huge chairs, speaking with two of the elven guard. But Faelon lay out on the sofa, eyes barely open, and looking only slightly less pale than before. Avelor had a cup pressed to Faelon’s lips, a dark green liquid swirling inside, and the rest of the elven soldiers stood watching.

They weren’t as fully recovered as Ryneq had expected, given Glaevahl’s assurances, but he had no option but to move them. “You need to leave, now.”

Avelor’s head snapped up, his gaze flicking between Lerran and Ryneq. “Why? What’s happened?”

“We think the witch is using an access tunnel to get into the palace,” Ryneq said, listening all the time for sounds of fighting. He didn’t know if he’d hear them all the way from the kitchens, but nevertheless, the absence of noise was still reassuring. “I want you to seal off the Eyrie steps after you leave.”

Avelor looked back down at Faelon. Ryneq saw the mix of emotions as Avelor wavered between wanting to stay and fight and wanting to take care of Faelon. If they stayed here, then Faelon would be as good as dead. It came as no surprise when Avelor nodded and stood to face them, meeting Ryneq’s gaze. “We will return with a way to fight the witch’s magic, Your Highness. In five days when the dragon’s blood is ready, we will return.”

Ryneq clasped the arm Avelor held out to him. “We will be waiting.” He hoped it was the truth.

The elven guard helped Glaevahl and Faelon to their feet. It took three of them to support Faelon, and he looked ready to pass out at any moment. The others grabbed the bags filled with books and the precious vials of dragon’s blood and followed Ryneq and his men to the door. They were halfway to the outer doors when the ground shook, and the muted sounds of an explosion echoed behind them.

“Hurry!” Ryneq yelled, ushering the elves in front of him and toward the doors. He turned to the five Torserian Guards waiting outside the room. “You need to hold off whatever comes down this passageway until the entrance to the Eyrie is sealed and the elves are gone.” They saluted as one and took defensive positions.

Ryneq ran after the elves and reached them as they carried Faelon through the double doors that led to the steps. “Go straight to the landing caves. Avelor knows the way. The riders will be waiting.”

The elves carrying Glaevahl and Faelon didn’t hesitate, maneuvering them carefully but quickly and starting the climb up. The five Torserian Guards waiting on the steps moved out of their way and ran back through the doors to help the others defend the passageway.

Avelor paused, turning back to share a look with Lerran. “Let magic keep you safe.”

Lerran’s words from earlier took on new meaning as Ryneq realized what was happening. Lerran began to whisper in Elvish, his eyes glowing purple.

“Lerran, no!” Ryneq stepped forward, intent on stopping him.

“It’s too late.” Lerran held out his hand, telling Ryneq to stay back as the steps began to disappear in front of them.

One by one the stone steps dissolved into rubble, blending into the mountainside as if they’d never been there in the first place. When Avelor and the others were well inside the entrance, Lerran raised his hands, and the opening disappeared under a sudden landslide of rocks and stones.

“It will hold while they get away, but the witch will be able to reverse it eventually.” Lerran stumbled a little as he stepped back, and Ryneq wondered just how much that spell had taken out of him.

“You should have left with the others.” Ryneq watched in disbelief as the dust cleared, leaving no evidence of the huge opening that had been there before. “But I’m glad you didn’t. Thank you.”

The sounds of fighting were getting closer. Even through the thick wooden doors, the shouts and ringing of metal on metal could easily be heard.

Lerran raised an eyebrow and glanced down at Ryneq’s sword. “Let’s go put that blade to some good use.” He pulled two long, wicked-looking knives from a sheath on his back and grinned. “Ready?”

Ryneq drew his sword and hoped Faelon’s magic was as strong as before. He reached for the door, a grim smile on his face. “May the Gods be merciful.”

If he’d known what lay behind the door, he would never have opened it.