Page 113 of War Hour

For all we know, Drytas has already launched a full-scale attack against one of the courts. Drytas could be standing behind his legion of Untrialed and guards alike, waiting as they fought their way into a court’s center city. How long would it take to send word once the attacks begin?

My stomach knots at the thought of Drytas walking through a path of destruction, his crimson cape dragging along behind him.

Pushing in the doors of the meeting room where the Crowns await their Heirs, I feel the tension stifling the room. No onespeaks when we enter, the Crowns watching us with bated breath.

Lady Ivianna stands, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. “Bash. Where is Bash?” She asks, a growing horrified expression crossing her face.

Sar steps forward, raising a hand like one would calm a frightened animal. “Bash is fine. He got stabbed in the wing and was taken immediately to a healer. He’s likely finding his way to you as we speak.”

Lady Ivianna relaxes slightly, sitting back in her seat, but her face doesn’t lose its pale sickly color.

Evander steps up to the table, clearing his throat. “Have any of you heard anything from your Trial cities in the hours since we’ve been gone?”

The Crowns look between themselves, each shaking their head before Lord Nicaise answers for them all verbally. “Nothing. Why? What happened in Valor?”

The Heirs relax, exchanging relieved looks. If the Crowns have not yet heard of anything brewing in their courts, it meant that there is still time. Drytas is not so far ahead of us as to ambush.

Visha nods, before adding, “Then hopefully we are not too late.”

Lord Bralas stands suddenly, chair screeching backward. “Too late for what, girl?” Bralas growls out in question.

Neith steps forward, just barely moving in front of Visha. Sending a glare at his father, Neith tells the Crowns what had happened in Valor—what they had seen to be true. What I had said to be true.

They don’t seem shocked by what happened. I can’t help but wonder if they had doubted my allegations less than I thought. If it’s the truth, it means they were willing to let Valor go onsuffering if it meant not disrupting the status quo of their own courts.

“What’s our plan of action?” Lord Nicaise asks, turning toward Lord Gennady.

Lord Bralas scoffs, looking at the table. “We? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m headed back to my court immediately.” He stands, pointing off in the distance. “If Drytas is targeting our courts, we should be there to defend them—to gather our people.”

Lord Gennady stands, voice level compared to Lord Bralas’s. “And what if each of us is not enough to defend against him? We are stronger together, so we must face him as such.”

Lord Bralas leans forward across the table, hackles raised. “How do you suggest we defend all five courts at the same time?”

Without a moment of hesitation, I murmur, “Six,” just loud enough to be heard.

The Crowns turn toward me with unsure expressions, as if in disbelief that I’d even spoken. Lord Rhen is the first to break the silence, leaning back slightly. “What was that?” he asks, tone grave.

I clear my throat, standing tall under the room’s gaze. “It’s six courts.”

Lord Bralas’s eye twitches as he stares at me, but I do not squirm under his gaze. I will no longer be bullied into submission.

When no one responds, I continue. “It’s just as likely that the Court of Self is under attack.”

Lord Bralas shakes his head. “We can barely figure out if we can defend our own courts, and you would have us defend him.” Bralas moves to the door. “We are wasting time discussing this. I am leaving for Wisdom. Now.”

“Wait, Bralas,” Lord Gennady insists. “If we each check on our courts and return here if we find nothing amiss, then we can reinforce whatever court is being attacked.”

“And riskmypeople?”

Leveling a glare in Lord Bralas’s direction, Lord Gennady adds, “You will not be saying that if it is your court that is under siege.”

This shuts Lord Bralas up.

“Trials, let it not be too late.”

Chapter 45

Chaos unfolds as the five courts scramble to gather their people and head for their own borders. Riders were sent ahead on the fastest horses to warn of what may be coming. The Crowns and Heirs follow in guarded carriages, in a procession of guards and court members alike.

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