Page 93 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Until then, all I could do was wait and fret.
The sun shone high in the air, no sign of the clouds which had gathered above the city. No human sounds followed, only the birds chirping and the branches groaning in a mighty forest.The tops of the trees I could see through the crack didn’t carry as much snow as those surrounding the city.
My stomach turned leaden. What if those fields of flowers were at the edge of the crater and I just hadn’t seen them?
I’d be closer to escaping, yes, but without knowing how to escape this scar in the ground, I had no chance of scaling the tall crater walls.
I could have ended up in a wilderness plagued by fierce, magical creatures who’d love nothing more than to feast on my Protectorate ass, bony as it was right now.
The Commander had warned me the outskirts of the crater were dangerous.
I was not, at least for now.
If my powers had returned, my quest could have been infinitely easier. I could regenerate my energy, find shelter easier, and protect myself. I would be unstoppable.
Right now, I was defenseless.
Which was bearable–if frightening–until I made it out of this crater and back to Aquila. But what would happen once I reached the Protectorate stronghold?
Silas had spun his lies frommythrone. Though it pained me to my core, Aquila might be hostile to me. Not in essence. Not in whispered prayers at night or murmurs in the streets. I refused to believe every civilian and member of my Clan had believed Silas, a man who’d never lifted one soft finger for them.
Still, I doubted.
I’d never imagined I’d have to claw my way out of a crater and reclaim my throne. I needed to be ready for the worst.
Silas might have hired mercenaries. I’d never seen the strange man who had stood by his side in the palaver portal.
It wasn’t like he could command the Protectorate army–the crown was missing.
Another obstacle I had to face. But if I found the crown, the army would be at my command. We weren’t as fierce as the famed Blood Brotherhood warriors, but our magic was pliable. Crafty. We could turn scraps into success.
If I found the crown, my Clan would be saved.
And I wouldn’t face Silas alone.
Orion was on my side.
Orion, who’d risked his life to send me a message to get me back to Aquila.
Who’d taught me how to throw my first punch and who’d decided alongside me that hand to hand combat wasn’t my forte; I could increase my grip, but my wrists were still fragile.
Even at eighteen, Orion had been strong enough to carry my little five year-old self on his shoulders as we’d raced through Grandpa Constantine’s gardens. Now he’d support me again, helping me back home.
Home…the word stung.
Home was now devoid of my father, my cousins, and the life I knew.
Yet here I was, my hip numb from the hard wood, smelling like sheep, and running back to that exact world–and away from the Commander, who’d been the only one to actually take a stand against Silas.
For me.
For a brief moment, safety had a voice, and it had sounded like the Commander’s.
And I left him.
Without a word, without a look.
A threat like the one he gave so calmly was dangerous. Clan-war-involve-the-Clan-Council dangerous. Yet he still did it, for someone who’d only grimaced at him and brandished a broken bottle his way.
