“Terrific,” I said.
And as the door clicked shut behind them, I flipped Mila onto her back and spent the rest of our time in Valyn in that room.
Chapter Forty
Malakai
“The horses aren’tfans of sand,” Dax said, falling onto his ass beside Barrett—on a slope of the very stuff the mares didn’t like.
Soulguider horses were used to the give of the sand beneath their hooves, but Mystique horses and many other clans’ hated it, just as they didn’t favor the icy terrain of Mindshaper Territory. Sure, they survived it during the war, but we all tolerated conditions then.
When we were traveling south from Valyn, through the Starsearcher jungles and toward the Soulguider border for the past week, Ombratta had been her usual, well-tempered self. The moment we stepped into the desert, all the horses had been riled.
I shook the small, intrusive grains from my boots and sat beside Barrett and Dax in the shade of a cypher tree for a quick break before continuing on to Lendelli.
“I hate sand, too,” I grumbled.
I peeked through the willowing branches toward where the mares gathered, unsettled under their own canopy as Cypherion and Vale took their turn to feed them.
Ophelia, Jezebel, and Erista were traveling with Sapphire and the khrysaor, but Tolek, Mila, and Lyria took a moment to spar, the fae observing shrewdly. As I watched, Lancaster muttered something that made Tolek scoff and Mila tip her head back with laughter. The sound wasn’t audible from here, but it rolled along my bones nonetheless.
As if feeling my stare, Mila looked over her shoulder, quirking a brow. I grinned at her, and damn did my chest inflate when she smiled back.
Celissia ducked beneath the branches, stepping in my line of sight. When I jumped, she laughed, flicking a glance toward Mila. “Enjoying the view?” she teased. I’d gotten to know Celissia better on the journey down from Valyn. Found her to be quick-witted, compassionate, and with a keen interest in taking all of Tolek’s money in every round of cards.
“Absolutely,” I swore.
The queen-to-be tossed Dax a canteen. The general lunged to the side to catch it, grunting. When he sat up again, he massaged his abdomen.
“That scar still bothering you?” I asked Dax.
“More than usual lately.”
Barrett’s jaw ticked as he watched the spot where Dax had been stabbed with Kakias’s dark magic with heated intensity, like he could see beneath his consort’s tunic.
I narrowed my eyes at the general, but Dax assured us, “Scars often hurt.”
“Not like that,” Celissia said, eying him carefully. “It makes me nervous that nothing I do is helping.” She clasped the pendant hanging around her neck and muttered under her breath. Dax watched her with a blank expression, shaking his head.
Barrett was unusually quiet through the entire exchange. He sat with his elbows propped on his knees, folding and unfolding a letter between his long fingers.
“From my uncle?” Celissia asked, following my stare to my half-brother. Elvek, one of the members of Barrett’s council, was apparently the queen-to-be’s uncle on her mother’s side and as distrustful of Celissia’s father, Nassik, as the rest of us.
Barrett’s head snapped up, shaking off the thoughtful daze he’d been in. “Yes, and Rebel.”
“Rebel?” I asked of the wolf.
“Since we left, Elvek’s been sending Rebel on regular patrols for a few days at a time.” His tone was calm, but Barrett’s knee bounced.
“And?” I said, eyeing the tick.
Dax answered, “Barrett’s concerned Rebel is going to be recognized as belonging to him.”
“Our people are unsettled,” the prince explained. “Those who support me are doing so quietly, but those who don’t are…” He groaned, leaning back against the cypher. “They’re stirring. Rebel has found up to four separate clusters of warriors gathering against my rule.”
He passed me the note, and I scanned it quickly. They were small groups, nothing concrete, but it was the spark that could ignite an internal war. Elvek sent Rebel out again a few nights ago, so they’d have another update within the next couple of days, and were hoping the issue was waning. Beyond that, Nassik had been reclusive, not stirring up trouble for the council.
“Elvek doesn’t sound concerned,” Celissia said. “Typical post-war propositioning.”
