Page 129 of A Game of Monsters

“Robin Icethorn. You’re alive.” Eroan’s eyes widened at the sight of me, blinking rapidly as if the illusion of my presence would dissipate.

I held my chin high, aware that the rustling at my back was Erix catching up. “I am.”

Eroan was the first to bow, a heartbreaking sob bursting beyond his pale lips. He practically folded in half, mumbling his thanks to Altar that I wasn’t dead. Lady Kelsey followed next, just as shocked.

Eroan proudly wore the Icethorn emblem as a pin on his jacket. Lady Kelsey was dressed in the fire reds and rich golds of the Cedarfall court she represented. There were more. A young woman who wore the emblem of the Elmdew court. My eyes went to the familiar man again, trying to discern why I felt as though I knew him. He was older than the rest, with thinning white hair, and bulbous sky-blue eyes enlarged behind round spectacles. His bloated fingers rose to rest upon the symbol over his heart. The symbol of the court he represented: Oakstorm.

I’d last seen him lurking in the back of the church before Cassial’s ambush. And now here he was, poisoning the very space I’d walked into.

“I cannot believe it,” Eroan gasped, hardly looking at me as if the vision before him was too painful to imagine. Questions painted his lips, drawing them in a line of tension. “How is this possible? Erix too–”

“I will explain when we have the time,” I replied, “but for now I need you to listen very closely.”

Eroan bowed again, gasping out another sob. “Time is not something we have, Robin. We were hours away from setting off our campaign to save Queen Cedarfall from enemy hands–”

“No,” I snapped, reaching him in strides, taking his frail arms in my hands and lifting him. “That cannot happen!”

Eroan bowed again as if my words scolded him.

“We have time for bowing and shock later,” I added, scanning the tent. “For now, youmustsend word to the front lines. Draw back, retreat. It’s important we do not engage with the Nephilim. A war must not proceed under any circumstances.”

“The war has already begun Robin Icethorn,” said the Oakstorm man.

He stepped around the table, hobbling slightly on a bad foot. It was then I noticed the details of the table, how the oaken top was carved into a familiar map of the realms. Wooden figures had been carved into the shapes of soldiers, some placed on the familiar borderline between the realms, whilst others looked to gather east, far away from this encampment. The only detail missing was the hidden Isles of Irobel.

“Under whose order?” I snapped, seething at the patronising tone he spoke to me with. “Surely not yours, Ailon Oakstorm?”

He blanched at the use of his name, then smiled sickly toward me.

“You are now the second ghost to walk into this tent, King Icethorn,” Ailon said, coughing into a stained hanky. He looked behind me, settling his dominating stare upon Erix, and resting it there. “Are we to expect any more to follow?”

I could read the distrust in his face. It was so distracting I almost missed what he’d said. But Erix didn’t.

A growl built in the pits of Erix’s throat. “Care to expand on that,uncle?”

“Lord Ailon Oakstorm will suffice,boy.” He sneered in Erix’s direction, disgustingly turning up the corner of his lip. “Let us not begin to use such titles when you have never bothered with them before. It would not seem appropriate, considering what has happened since we last saw one another.”

I quickly realised that Ailon was not here as a representee of his court, but a replacement to Queen Elinor Oakstorm. And he was loving every minute of flashing his authority before me, just like his brother once had.

Before he was killed.

“Ailon.” I had no energy for manners. “I trust Gyah Eldrae has arrived too, good. I need to speak with her. Someone fetch her–“

“Unfortunately, that will not be possible. You’ve just missed her.”

My ears hammered with the roar of blood, as though oceans crashed within my skull. I spared Erix a glance, sensing his shared desire to flee the tent in chase of her.

“When?” I snapped.

“It has only been an hour since she left.” Lady Kelsey clearly disliked Ailon, but she did her part to play demure around him.

“Then she can be recalled,” I said, frantically looking to Erix, hoping he was already sending out word to his gryvern to locate Gyah and bring her back.

“And leave Althea to die? No, Robin.”

“Cassial needs Althea. I hate to say this but she is far safer in his hands.”

Lady Kelsey’s lower lip trembled. “That is not a hope I can stand behind, Robin. I am sure you are already aware, my niece is currently being held by the Nephilim–”

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