Aylard sat back, his hand trembling slightly against the table. “This Kolis seems to have little love for the Ascended since he’s willing to destroy them.”
“He’s willing to feed upon them to restore his strength,” I corrected. “That doesn’t mean he has no want or need of them otherwise.”
His shoulders tensed. “But, so far, he has not attacked any Atlantians or wolven. At least, as far as we know,” he stated, drawing Murin’s gaze.
Casteel’s head tilted. “And?”
“He may not be a threat to us,” Aylard said. I really hoped he wasn’t going where I thought he was. “But if he is?” he continued. “And he is this powerful now? Perhaps…”
“Perhaps?” I waited. “What?”
His lips thinned. “Perhaps we attempt to negotiate.”
Gods.
He went exactly where I thought he would.
“Negotiate for what?” Murin asked, his brow furrowed so deeply his eyebrows almost merged.
“Peace?” I asked.
“Peace is better than destruction,” Aylard stated.
Reaver drew his long head back as he eyed the Elemental, smoke wafting from his nostrils.
“Like it was for the Atlantians when they retreated beyond the Skotos after the War of Two Kings?” I questioned. His nostrils flared, and I willed Reaver not to burn the man alive. “Since it doesn’t appear as if you listened to why I fear we’re approaching Kolis with too much rationale, let me explain it more clearly. The last time the Kingdom of Atlantia retreated, it was to escape the vamprys and a demis. This time, it will be from a likely insane,truePrimal ofDeathwho will easily be able to cross the Skotos and use his will against the only land and people you appear to value.”
A muscle throbbed in Aylard’s jaw. Lizeth did nothing to hide her smirk. “I understood you the first time,” Aylard said.
“Then why would you think negotiating for peace would be an intelligent option?” Eather hummed in my chest. “Or is it just a suggestion borne of cowardice?”
Aylard’s eyes widened as he drew back, his spine straightening. He started to stand. “I am no cowar—”
“If your Queen says you are,” Casteel spoke, his voice impossibly soft, “then you are.” His fingers tapped the arm of his chair slowly as icy energy seeped into the chamber. “And I would suggest you sit down. Now.”
Aylard sat slowly, his eyes fixed on Casteel. “I…apologize if I gave you that impression.”
I lifted a brow as Reaver huffed.
“But it seems there is no real plan beyond taking our armies to Pensdurth,” the general went on. “To fight against the true Primal of Death who, by your own admission, is unstoppable.”
“I never said he was unstoppable.”
Sven cleared his throat. “While I rarely agree with anything that comes out of Aylard’s mouth, it seems you’re both suggesting the same thing.”
I blinked, disbelief coursing through me and clearly his son, who stared at his father’s back like his mind was suddenly addled. “We are not suggesting the same thing.”
The soft tap of Casteel’s fingers thudded as Sven smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re suggesting we approach this a bit irrationally,” he said, and I frowned. “And Aylard’s option is as irrational as they come.”
Aylard’s jaw worked as he sat back.
“The question is, what isyournot-quite-rational option?” Sven asked.
The tension in my neck ratcheted up as I briefly closed my eyes, seeing the bone dagger in the chest. I felt Kieran’s stare on me and heard the continued soft tap of Casteel’s fingers. “Kolis wants the eather in me—the essence of life and death.”
Casteel’s fingers stilled.
My heart sped up as I kept my gaze focused ahead. “He must take my blood—all of it—for that to happen.”
