Page 284 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Metal clanged over the rock Maverick had leaned against. Before she could see what it was, the tail blast of wind from his wings blew over her as he left. She wasn’t satisfied that he was leaving so soon, but as she beheld what he’d left behind…

Zaiana’s center of gravity shifted.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

Faythe

Reylan wasn’t best pleased with Faythe when she returned from the Mortus Mountains and explained what they’d done to collapse it.

“I’m not mad you left,” he’d said. “I’m disappointed I was left out of some great action.”

They reconvened in the drawing room of High Farrow’s castle again, which would become a regular routine with all the planning they had to do.

“Now I have over a hundred darklings occupying Galmire during a war when our resources for the people are already spread thin,” Nik exasperated.

“They have few survival skills yet,” Zaiana defended. “These are children with no parental upbringing.”

Faythe added, “We don’t close our borders on innocents.”

“This isn’t your kingdom to decide that,” Nik said.

That hurt to hear, though it was the truth.

“Then what you decide to do with them is your choice,” Faythe conceded.

Tauria placed a hand on his where they sat side by side. “If they were fae children seeking refuge, what would you say then?”

Nik’s lips pursed, realizing his bias. “We wouldn’t turn them away.”

Tauria said, “How can we expect to achieve peace at the end of this if we don’t break the cycle of seeing the dark fae as enemies? They were born into a war not of their choosing.”

Reylan stood behind where Faythe sat. He paced and mulled over the map that covered the table, his mind on various battle movements and where to station their legions.

“According to the plans you found in Valgard, they plan to attack High Farrow at four key angles. Through the Stone Passes, the mountain fringe, through Galmire, and our spies have reported their armadas are already moving to close in from the west. Their numbers are beyond us almost four-to-one. With that force, I think they’ve waited all this time, all but herding us into one kingdom to make it a swift annihilation and conquer. Our numbers are shaken from the Battle of Rhyenelle. We don’t have control of Olmstone’s armies, which could have granted us more favorable odds.”

“Do we know if Chief Zainaid is still in power?” Tarly asked.

“Our scouts say he is. But Marvellas and Dakodas have been sighted there, and they report most of the kingdom’s main defenses have been taken over by dark fae leaders,” Reylan informed them.

Tarly exchanged a look with Tauria, who must know this chief. He said, “If we can get completely secure information to the chief, I believe he can help us. He’s on our side. When I fled Olmstone and my father was captured, the chief stepped in, pretending he wanted the throne all along, and they let him, needing someone to keep the kingdom in order. I’ve met with him since.”

That opened a new advantage that sparked hope through the gloom of the dire odds they faced.

“Our communication into Olmstone must be completely secure then. We might have one opportunity to catch them unawares with forces blocking theirs from the north and south.” Reylan leaned over her shoulder, moving various figures with different meanings around the border between High Farrow and Olmstone. He asked, “Do you have an indication of Olmstone army numbers?”

“Before everything happened, around twenty thousand souls. But I fear many might have been taken… If they’re looking for fae to Transition to dark fae, best start with those with mastered combat experience.”

The grim probability settled an ominous tension.

Faythe said, “We might not have their numbers, but we have me and two ruins.”

Reylan’s tension built within her. He wouldn’t like any suggestion that put her at risk, but this was her purpose.

“We’ve accounted for that.” Izaiah took over with a wary glance at Reylan.

Izaiah pushed a small golden ball across the table, settling it over the castle. Two gray rocks joined it. Faythe leaned in and squinted at them.

“Is that supposed to be me and the ruins?”

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