“The magicals in the capital only saw a fraction of what I did in the name of the Crown.” The general looked into the upper branches of the stunted trees dotting the mountainside as they climbed after L’zar. “I led more war parties than I can count into the Outers right after Ba’rael took the throne. We cleared out the valleys and farmland first. Took the livestock, then the forests, then the mines. Everywhere we went, everywhere she sent us, O’gúleesh had been living their lives relatively peacefully for ages. We all knew that, and we moved them out without a second thought.”
Foltr grunted and thwacked his staff against a tree trunk. “It’s all in the past, hinya.”
“Sure, until the past looked me right in the eyes five minutes ago and had no idea who I am.” Maleshi shook her head. “That troll was one of the few who fought back. Very few did, and she was one of even fewer I didn’t cut down for standing up to the Crown to protect what was theirs.”
Cheyenne swallowed. “Shit.”
A bitter laugh escaped the general. “Yeah. That tribe is all the way out here because of me. Who knows, maybe they’ve been here the whole time, but probably not. If this blight is moving as quickly as we think, I’m sure they’ve relocated more than once.”
“Ambar’ogúl will heal itself,” Corian muttered. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“After how many lives are taken, vae shra’ni? Huh?” Maleshi hissed. “I should’ve stopped her when I realized what she was doing. I could’ve taken her back then before she started stealing more magic than even she can handle.”
At the head of the line, L’zar stopped short and spun to face them, propping one foot on a boulder set into the hillside. “Then you would have started this war way before its time. Maleshi Hi’et would have fallen from her high horse as our greatest warlord, the factions would have turned against each other and you, and nothing would have changed. What would have happened then, hmm? I would’ve had to stand up and take a throne I never wanted, and I’m not even sure L’zar Verdys as the Crown of Ambar’ogúl would have been any better than Ba’rael the Spider. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t suit you, General. Keep moving.”
Without waiting for a reply, he spun back and trudged farther up the hillside.
Maleshi stared after him for a long moment before shaking her head and moving on.
“I hate to say it,” Cheyenne muttered, “but he might be right.”
The general laughed bitterly. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“I’ve heard enough to know that when you left, it gave everyone here the hope they needed. That it was possible to escape from all this. That at the very least, you weren’t dead, and in the best-case scenario, you might come back.”
“Best-case scenario. Ha. That turned out to be me branding myself as a traitor to the Crown and taking up arms against her at his side.” Maleshi nodded toward L’zar. “And it took this ragtag group shoving their way through my front door to get me moving again.”
Foltr grunted. “Don’t include me in the band of misfits, Blade of the Unseen Eye.”
“Of course not.” Maleshi glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled thinly.
“Sometimes, we have to live through the worst-case scenario to pull ourselves out of complacency. It’s ugly and effective, isn’t it?” The raug chuckled as he thumped his staff into the leaf-strewn mountainside. “I heard you made a comfortable bed of lies for yourself in our sister world.”
“Yes, thank you.” Shaking her head, Maleshi scoffed. “I was quite comfortable. Maybe someday I’ll return to it.”
Foltr’s sharp laugh echoed through the trees. “But not today.”
“No. Today, I’m following a mad drow into the jaws of the Sorren Gán.”
Ember gulped. “Jaws?”
“A figure of speech. Mostly.”
Chapter Eighteen
“So, I have a question.” Ember swiped her hair out of her eyes, floating easily over the increasingly difficult terrain. The rest of the party was breathing heavily as they finished the last of their climb over a fallen mound of boulders L’zar had refused to take them around.
Cheyenne wiped sweat from her forehead and readjusted the straps of her backpack. “Might as well go for it, Em.”
“I’m thinking. It was, what, mid-morning when we left the city? We had that ridiculously long train ride or whatever it was, and now it feels like we’ve been hiking through these mountains for just as long.”
Maleshi let out a winded laugh. “None of those are questions.”
“No, I know. But it makes me wonder how long the days are here.”
“Still not a question.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Don’t tell me General Hi’et can’t infer the question anyway.”
“Oh, I can infer plenty. For one, this fae over here has the time and energy to contemplate elongated daylight in Ambar’ogúl while the rest of us are focused on marching with our actual feet on the ground.”
Ember scowled at the back of the nightstalker woman’s head. “Hey, believe me, if I could march with you, I would in a heartbeat.”
“I know.” Maleshi shifted her pack on her shoulders and nodded. “I’m messing with you. The days are longer over here, and that’s the best answer I can give. Not much of an issue coming into this world, but I tell you what. When I went Earthside, it took me months to get used to the days cut short by at least a third.”
“A third?”
“At least. It might even be half.”
“Stop.” L’zar’s order cut sharply through the woods around them, and the group instantly halted. He peered through the sparse trees as they gave way to more rocks and eventually cliffs in the distance.
Cheyenne looked around and waited for the explanation. “Something on your mind, L’zar?”
“You couldn’t handle half of what’s on my mind,” he spat, turning around, not to look at her, but to scan the way they’d come and the mountainside below them.
“Right, because you have
