Finally, the scribe gently places his quill on the desk. He turns to me, his wizened face lined with wrinkles. “Your Grace,” he murmurs, dipping his chin.
“I need invitations to my wedding drawn up immediately,” I say, taking a seat across from him.
“Certainly, how many?” He dips his quill into his bottle of ink.
“Twenty, for now,” I say. “How soon can you be finished?”
The scribe methodically and slowly jots down notes on his paper. “The end of the day, I’m sure.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I need them sooner than that.”
“What is the rush?” He asks, raising his brows.
“The wedding is in six days.” I grimace.
“Six days?” His furry brows shoot up even higher in surprise. “Your Grace, the time –”
“I know,” I say forcefully. “Have them finished as soon as you can, make it a priority. When you’re finished, find me.”
I rise as he dips his chin in acknowledgement. I leave the old scribe to his work then. As the door closes, I hear the soft scratching of his pen against paper, moving quickly this time. I hurry down the stairs towards my ambassadors quarters to give them their instructions. They haven’t been sent to the neighboring kingdoms yet, I was waiting until I felt that Alnembra was prepared to open relations again. But now there’s no time to waste.
Suddenly, as I’m striding through the halls, I’m wrenched backwards. I whirl, snarling, but find Navi panting, her eyes wide. “Navi,” I say, anger disappearing at the sight of her. Worry swirls in my chest, I haven’t seen Navi look so fearful since the curse took hold. “What is it?”
“An army,” she pants. “Our scouts have spotted a Bloodbane army only a week’s march away.”
My blood runs cold. “An army?”
“Demons.” Navi shudders. “They said they looked like demons.”
Fury and fear lance through me. I have no doubt that Maaz somehow got her hands on creatures from the ether, perhaps through some sacrifice and ritual to Sadal Melik. “How many?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“At least fifty thousand,” Navi says, her voice soft.
“Fifty thousand?” I echo, my eyes wide.
“A host like that would decimate our armies,” Navi murmurs.
I narrow my eyes at the stone floor. “Shit.”
“Altair,” Navi says, drawing my gaze towards her. “They’re on the move.”
“Get our armies together immediately. I want all of our men stationed along the border and I want our scouts watching the enemy very carefully. If they so much as piss, I want to know about it,” I snap.
She bows sharply and jogs down the halls. I watch her disappear around the corner towards the barracks and rake a hand through my hair. I lean against a nearby wall, my gut coiling with fear. I had known that Maaz wouldn’t leave me and my people alone, but I didn’t expect her to find a formidable force so quickly. Alnembra’s army is only starting to recover from the thousand-year curse. Our forces are low, and many of them lack training.
I bite down hard on my lip and push away from the wall. With war on the horizon, a wedding may not be possible. If the demon horde marches into our borders within the week, there simply won’t be time for it. And I won’t invite my allies to Alnembra on the brink of devastation.
There’s an open window nearby and I climb onto the lip of it, staring down at the gardens three stories below. Without hesitating, I throw myself off of it. In mid-air I let Maaz’s magic flow through me and change me into my beastly form. I spread my wings wide and catch the wind just before I hit the stones below. Quickly, I soar towards Desmarais’ bay, where the Wind-Singer will still be anchored.
My shadow passes over Desmarais below, and my people glance upwards as I pass. I beat my powerful wings as the mast of the Wind-Singer comes into view. The deck is a flurry of activity, with Thal at the helm shouting orders. He looks up as my shadow darkens the deck, but he doesn’t pause his preparations. I land deftly, the ship rocking slightly under my sudden weight.
“Altair,” he says, tightening the moorings as I pad towards him.
“There’s an army of demons from the ether on the move towards our borders,” I say softly, not bothering to shift into my Fae form.
Thal pauses, his eyes widening slightly before he gets back to work. “What do you plan to do?”
“I want you to go to Mensa and Stellium, bring them the invitations. Don’t mention the threat of war, but I want them here in three days if possible,” I explain.
“And Canes?” Thal asks.
“I will go to Canes myself,” I say, looking east. “He has the largest land army on the continent. I’ll need it.”
Thal shakes his head. “If he accepts.”
I growl low, feathers ruffling. “He will accept.”
“Good luck, cousin.” Thal meets my gaze, pausing in his work.
I dip my chin towards him. “Same to you.”
Thal turns to his men. “Get your asses moving!” He shouts, shoving a sailor aside to take over.
I launch myself from the deck, rustling the white sails of the ship. I head east, towards Canes. The Wind-Singer falls behind as I fly, and soon Desmarais is gone as well. I soar over open fields and forests, apprehension nestling in my gut. The great city of Civisilva is on the horizon as the sun reaches its apex in the sky. Civisilva is the last city in Alnembra before the border we share with Canes. The second largest city in Alnembra, it was built on an ancient ruin from a long-lost civilization. The forest has still reclaimed it, and its people live in harmony with the trees jutting through their homes and buildings, vines climbing all over the walls.
Verity would love Civisilva. My heart pangs at the thought
