The Gromalian captain had obviously been incontact with the ships guarding Sorlithian waters, because those ships turned, granting us passage, and we prepared to dock, sails descending, ropes creaking, crew calling to one another in the language of the ship—one I was unlikely ever to understand.

Not long now.

A choking sensation tightened my throat, until I struggled for my next breath. So much rested on this meeting. On our ability to convince Rekja to go to war with us. Without him…

Even with some of the most powerful fae on the continent fighting on our side of the battlefield, they could only do so much against thousands and thousands of humans, many of them bloated with stolen power.

While many humans had received their power back when the barrier fell, too much of that power was still kept in oceartus stones, used for convenience in Regner’s capital, and held by his most loyal people.

We needed boots on the ground.

I turned to find Daharak and the others talking a few footspans away. I hadn’t even heard her approach.

“After we speak to Rekja, you should return to the rest of the fleet,” I said to Daharak. “Keep your trowth stone by your side, and if you don’t hear from us by nightfall tomorrow, move back south.”

Daharak’s mouth twisted. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s unlikely Rekja will cause any problems once he sees Thora,” Lorian said. “But if he does, you will need to meet with the others and continue with our plans.”

From Daharak’s expression, she didn’t like that thought either, but she gave us a stiff nod.

I hesitated, and then the words spilled from my lips. “Please look after my aunt.”

Her expression softened. “You know I will.”

I did. One of her pirates had already saved Telean’s life not long ago. My aunt would stay on the ship. We hadn’t spoken since the morning I’d woken up. Truthfully, I didn’t know when we would. For the most part, she’d locked herself away in her cabin. She was just as stubborn as I was.

Galon and a few of the other warders formed a barrier around our ship as we docked. Daharak was the first off the ship, sauntering down the ramp as if there weren’t fifty guards waiting for her.

“Take us to your king,” she said.

“Our king is busy,” one of them called. Several others laughed.

Daharak gave him a wide smile. “And yet a captain of your fleet already allowed us through.”

A heavily muscled guard stepped close, putting him just inches from me. “I suggest you get back on your ship—”

Lorian let out a low, vicious snarl. He was becoming a little…feral as time went on with no sign of my power.

The guard froze.

Daharak raised her hand, the silver coin gleaming in the sun. He reached for it, and she shook her head, tucking it away. “I don’t think so.”

The guard narrowed his eyes but sent a wary glance toward Lorian. “Let them pass.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

One of the other guards spat on the ground in front of us. But he stepped aside.

Sorlithia was much, much smaller than Thobirea. Small enough that Thora had suggested we walk from the dock to the city walls.

Where the Gromalian capital sprawled from the docks to the castle, Sorlithia was barely a large town in comparison.

Fortified walls encircled the town on all sides, rising high above the ground, designed for defense. Several guards strolled along those walls as I watched, eyes scanning anyone who approached. Every few footspans, crenellations rose like jagged teeth against the sky, providing cover and strategic points for archers and defenders. Towers, taller than the walls themselves, punctuated the perimeter at regular intervals, providing an even higher vantage point.

And yet, it didn’t feel like a military town. Those walls seemed ancient, covered in a patina of time, with creeping ivy and blowing wild flowers softening their imposing structure.