Then a wall of fur and flesh barreled into Huang Boa. It was Tejón, and his head had strange growths sticking out. He kept charging until he smashed the sword master into the side of Quinn’s store, the wood cracking in places, his growths puncturing the ratkin’s body. I wanted to warn the bear. The Sword Master wasn’t done, and he most likely had some other trick up his sleeve. But Pachi flashed into view, her Flamewalking ability taking her close enough to stand at the shoulder of the bear.
Then her whole body erupted with light.
I squinted, vaguely aware of the warmth spreading down my belly and thighs, and watched the brilliance emanating from Pachi’s body coalesce into a beam that pulsed out, blasting a hole through Huang Boa’s body and burning away Tejón’s stony crown as it did so.
There wasn’t enough of the Sword Master left to lift a hand, let alone fight back, so I smiled, slumping to the ground.
What an amazing creature. And she was mine?
I smiled even as the town of Taelman’s Pond disappeared before my eyes. Then the pain and the heat of injury and fear were no more.
6: “History is a cyclic poem written by time.”
— The Blasphemous Bard
ALYSAND
The town of Taelman’s Pond—what was left of it, at least—was happy despite its many losses. Food was brought out of cellars, livestock were slaughtered, and a feast was underway.
No doubt, these people would be eating for a few days straight. Nothing cures the heart more than a full belly and the laughter of loved ones. I laughed at my own wandering mind. The words of my mother, for once, flitting about inside me and not Corbrae.
Since I’d learned of the old man’s death, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His lessons, the beatings he’d given me, the men we’d killed together. It was as if knowing he was murdered had brought him back to life within me.
I had no plans of feasting, though. My days of excess were over. In fact, I’d never truly known them. But after hearing of all those who I’d lost in Gilsby, after losing Delilah, I just couldn’t stomach as much as I used to. So instead, I cracked into the apple the boy had brought me. It had pop, as fresh as they come, and I savored the taste as I chewed.
“Told you they were good,” Abra said behind me.
The kid seemed to be everywhere underfoot. Under my feet, at least. The boy had taken a liking to me, and I had a suspicion it had something to do with my pistols.
“And you were right,” I admitted, then stood up and began my walk back to Quinn’s shop.
Yet another meeting was being held on the porch of the weapon’s store, still standing despite the loss of so many other buildings. The Sirrushi wyverns had returned after a few hours of intense hunting, and most were camped outside of town amidst the wreckage of the enemy’s abandoned camp.
Harnoth had reported that the forest had been damaged in the army’s passing and short occupation, but that the trampled woodlands would quickly recover. They had even gone so far as to bless the area with their magic. Even I was too young to remember a time when the wyverns had used their magic on anything other than themselves, but many stories told that they were once as potent at stirring up nature to their will as the elves. The forest outside of Taelman’s Pond would soon be a place of deep magic, the maldrilles as eager to intertwine with magic as always.
When I sat on an upturned barrel, a few feet away from Harnoth’s somber face, everyone stopped talking and turned to me. I tipped my hat and said, as casually as I could, “Please, continue.”
Marshal Dandre cleared her throat then did as I asked. “If what we hear is true, we should make our move, and do it soon. There is little hope waiting around and defending. I say that we send Quinn to the Elders in the Lemish mountains, then assemble our forces and march on Drok Shapol. Even if we remain outnumbered, with the Sirrushi aiding us and the horse men as well, there is a chance we can succeed.”
“But how can we know for certain?” Corell said, his denial ironically sounding hopeful. “Maybe the trolls are simply performing a pilgrimage, or else migrating to new hunting grounds.”
Hardel spoke up then, the hardy ranger attempting to tame his booming voice and failing. “No, I am sorry, but that cannot be. Bastral said that the entire troll population, at least three hundred strong, were marching south along the coast. They have never done so before. No hunting grounds lie there, and every place they keep as holy lies only in the frigid north. No, they have joined the Rat King as well.”
Harnoth spoke next, and judging from everyone’s rapt attention, he hadn’t done so often. “The ranger is correct. The trolls haven’t been so far south in over three hundred years. They are no longer among our allies. Yet more of the old races remain despite their numbers lacking. We will summon whatever creatures of the deep that still remain sentient.”
Everyone nodded gravely, considering the situation. Then Dandre looked up at me, an idea dancing in her eyes. “What of the Queen? Alysand, surely if you return to the capital and ask for aid, you might succeed in summoning a few hundred royal soldiers. Then this new threat would be quashed out before it grew any further.”
Taking a deep breath to give them the impression I
