Jularra tried to relax, and forced lightness into her tone.
“Now, can I show you my plans for Yubik?”
Korden circled around, still pacing.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” he mumbled.
Jularra bit her tongue, permitting his final outburst.
After another lap, Korden returned to the table with slow, deliberate steps. Jularra took that as her cue to continue.
“As I said, I plan on sending a group ahead of mine, to scout and prepare for my arrival in Messyleio. Since they’re leaving sooner, they’ll have time to follow Moraine Trail down around the tip of Yubik, then work their way back up through Fordail before passing into Hignriten.”
Korden was all business—brief and brusque. “Why not just have them cut through our old holdings there?” he asked.
“I thought of that,” she said. “I don’t want to upset our relationship with Yubik if they’re caught. They’ll have enough time to go around.”
“Can’t you all just travel by an energy pass?”
“No. Not enough of the Ridgerazers have recovered yet.”
Korden shifted. “So, how are you going to get there?”
“My group and I will be taking Catahba Road to the Crystal Expanse.”
“And if you’re caught?”
“I’m planning on that, actually,” Jularra said. “I’m assuming we will be met by the Yubik fairly quickly after crossing the border. But my group will be traveling openly. Once we’re stopped, I’ll say that I’m on my way to Messyleio and had hoped for a brief audience to give my regards.”
“So, if you survive the road. If you aren’t killed when crossing the border. If you’re granted an audience… what will you tell them the audience is for?”
“Oh, I’ll just come up with some fluffy shit they want to hear—that I’m so glad we’ve been able to maintain our friendship for so long, perhaps. Or that I hope their people are doing well. Offer some new terms of trade that I’ll come up with sometime between now and then. Anything. Whatever.”
Korden muttered inaudibly.
“Once we’re granted permission to continue, we’ll come off the glacier here, shoot through Pestle Pass where the Worcone Wood is the thinnest, and then follow the Drunken Gullies to the border of Hignriten, before making our way to Messyleio.”
“And after that?” he prodded.
“That’s what we are least prepared for. Hopefully the group that gets there ahead of me will have uncovered something to act on, but the objective will be to locate Leona, and glean anything I can on how to defeat the Voidwarden, or at least nullify its hold over us.”
“And you want me to stay behind.”
Jularra twisted and threw her arms up.
“What do you want me to say? Is there someone else you think could do the responsibility justice?” She spat fury with each syllable. “This has nothing to do with anything other than you being the right person! Why must you insist on putting fucking color on a canvas where only black and white lives? I need someone to protect the city while I’m gone. I need the best person for that. You are that person. Is there any other damned thing that you need explained about this?”
“No,” he said.
“Then get out!”
Thirteen
Jularra sniffed and filled her lungs with the damp breeze of the late Acorilan autumn. Crunchy leaves blew through the yard, adding to the commotion of the gathering guard. The season’s complex scents typically transported Jularra to a state of wonder and inspiration, but that was muddled by worry about the coming journey.
She stood next to her horse and fidgeted with the saddle girth. She and Korden normally ran through last minute details before a departure. Instead, Korden surveyed their preparations from a deliberate distance. Jularra lingered awkwardly, occasionally looking over with poorly hidden glances.
Burdened only with impatience to begin the journey, Vischuno and Wona trotted into the group’s staging area. They were doubled over in laughter, almost toppling off their horses.
“Her sword went flying behind me,” Vischuno was saying to Wona. “She kept trying to run around me to get it… lurching in one direction, and then sprinting to the other. I stayed just enough in her way, you see. Waiting for her to get too close.”
Jularra welcomed the distraction and looked up, trying not to resent their good moods.
“She got so frustrated!” Vischuno continued. “With every failed attempt to get by me, she’d reach up and slap me with her gauntlet. It stung a good bit, but I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“She would’ve gotten around you if she’d wanted to,” Wona cried through laughter. “She’s a Spire! She was toying with you!”
Vischuno sat up straighter in his saddle. “No! I was toying with her!” he barked.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”
Wona hopped down. “Your Majesty, Visch here will make for a powerful fighting companion, as long as we don’t run into anything that slaps!”
Vischuno scooped his three arms up, each displaying a middle finger. Wona choked with laughter.
Jularra smiled, then went back to picking at her saddle.
“Queen Jularra? Is everything all right?”
“Of course,” she replied immediately. “Are you both ready?”
“'Zah!” Vischuno bellowed. Wona nodded and took a bite of an apple.
“Good. Are the Bedrock and Spire ready?”
“Yes, ma’am, just about” answered Vischuno. “The barracks chief was rooting out the stragglers.”
They both watched her expectantly. She nodded and forced approval into her voice.
“Good. I want to be on the road before the sun crests the mountains.”
Before she could change her mind, Jularra turned away from her two soldiers and marched over to Korden. Her pace was moderate, her steps solid, though her thoughts were anything but; her confidence in her plan was tempered by regret at the memory of her and Korden’s last heated exchange.
Korden stood rigidly as she climbed the few steps up to him and stood at his side. She turned and joined him in looking out at the assembling men and women.
“Any news on the advance group?” Jularra asked.
“None,” he answered without inflection.
“Good,” she snapped back. “They shouldn’t be communicating until they arrive in Messyleio.”
“Your initial supply horses are ready, and your group is just about assembled,” Korden advised. His tone
