“My son!” wept one of the women, clutching her chest.
The Kalorians peered around at the empty fields and hills behind them, and then murmured to one another. One of them held a palm up to them, as if telling them to wait. Both women were crying in earnest, their fear apparent.
Moments later the gates opened just enough to show a Kalorian lord with a severe, long face. He stared at them, a lip curled in repulsion at their appearance, and then his eyes narrowed at the sight of the man’s hands.
“Come closer . . . now stop. Hold up your hands.”
Three pairs of dirty, shaking hands came slowly up for the man to see the lines on their nails.
“Ah.” He relaxed a small fraction. “Lochlan Lashed. Why have you come?”
“Please, sir,” said the man. “We heard you have many Lashed among you, that you’re a friend of the magical folk, that you’re going to change the laws around here.” The man swallowed hard, still trying to catch his breath. The Kalorian said nothing, so the Lochlan kept going. “They want you gone—”
“Who?”
“The townspeople in the north. They want to stop all our Lashed from joining you. They’ve got our Lashed ones locked up in the town hall at Craw Coorie and they’re planning to burn it tonight! They want to wage a battle to root you out.”
“My son is in there!” one of the women cried. She clasped her hands together, begging. “Please save them—I’ll do anything! I will be at your service for life.”
The Kalorian’s lips pursed into a tight bud of ire. “How many Lashed?”
“More than fifty,” said the quietest woman.
“And townsmen?”
The three of them looked at one another and the man spoke. “Hundreds. And more are coming from nearby villages, dragging their Lashed as well. They’re trying to make their own army. This has been boiling since the new queen opened the Lashed camps.”
At this, the man laughed drily. “It was only a matter of time. We will squash this uprising like a fat berry and leave its rotting flesh for all to see.”
“And the Lashed?” the woman asked desperately. “Can you save them?”
“Come through the gate and stand against the wall. If you move, you will be shot. I will fetch our general and you will tell him exactly where this town is located.”
“Bless you, sir!” said the women, sending their praises as the three of them rushed to the wall, still lined with Kaloriansoldiers watching the spectacle with interest.
“Long live Prince Vito!” shouted the Lochlan man. The three of them clung together by the wall, rejoicing.
The sun had fully set, sending an ominous quiet over the town of Craw Coorie. Three messengers had been sent to start the war. She prayed Vito would take the bait. It was unnerving to know there were hundreds of soldiers and townspeople in her midst, ready to fight, all hidden within the town, and yet not a single sound could be heard. Aerity sat in a complete stranger’s cozy main room with Vixie, Wyneth, Paxton, Mrs. Rathbrook, and a hulking Furball.
Aerity chewed her thumbnail as her mind turned over scenario after scenario. What if Vito didn’t believe the three Lashed? What if he simply didn’t care that Lochlan Lashed were supposedly being killed? What if he was too busy searching for Aerity inside the castle and refused to have his men leave royal lands until they found her? What if they’d found the hidden passageways?
“Aer, you’re breathing funny again,” Vixie said gently.
Aerity sat up and took a deep breath. She wanted this war to be over with. She listened so hard that the quiet actually thrummed deep in her ears. “It’s killing me not to know how much longer we’ve got, or if they’re even planning to attack.” She stood and went to the window where Paxton was watching through a crack in the shutters with his arms crossed. Together, they did the only thing they could do. Wait.
Chapter
48
A Lochlan soldier on horseback had sat in the woods north of royal lands, staring through a spyglass for hours. His eyes hurt from squinting at the details in the dark of night with only the moon and stars for light. Something was going on in royal lands . . . he couldn’t see it but he could hear it. Commotion. Movement. Voices. They were preparing. He wanted to charge away that instant to tell the Lochlan and Ascomannian soldiers waiting along the bay, but his orders were not to move until he saw the royal gates open.
It was deep in the night before that finally happened. Kalorians on horseback spilled out. With a pounding heart, the soldier turned his steed and shot northeastward. He rodefaster than he’d ever gone, trees rushing past in a whir of dark movement. It took almost an hour before he came to the first soldier, also on horseback.
“They are coming!” he shouted. The other nodded and turned, riding toward the bay to warn the first line of troops.
Up the strip the soldier went, alerting other messenger soldiers until the news spread like moving fingers through the woods, up to the bay, and along Loch River and Crescent Stream to the waiting troops. He rode, finally reaching Craw Coorie where he fell from his horse and grasped a cup of water from Lieutenant Gillfin’s outstretched hand.
“You did well,” the lieutenant told him. “Rest. It could be hours before they reach the rivers, and that’s if the Ascomannians let them make it that far.”
