“
W
hat are we still doing out here, Falonar?” Rothvar asked. “We’ve done a flyover of Doun and the landen villages that answer to the Queen there. We’ve checked the settlement—” that answer to the Queen there. We’ve checked the
Kohlvar growled an opinion about so many men going there without Yaslana—especially since
he
was the one who had been required to offer assurances about the men who were with him.
“—and the women are tucked in just fine. Plenty of food, plenty of wood,” Rothvar continued.
Tucked in, Falonar thought as he turned to face Rothvar. Some of those women should have been providing domestic service for the northern camps instead of keeping their skills—and their bodies—to themselves. Not one of them wore dark Jewels or came from a female caste that carried any prestige and required being handled with care. He’d allow the children to remain in the Doun eyries and work out a rotation for the women. A few would remain to care for the children while the others provided the service they should. If their performance was satisfactory, they would be allowed to visit their children and rest during their moontime days before returning to the camps.
Some might think that was harsh treatment, since these women hadn’t been required to cuddle anyone but themselves, but the new arrangement would benefit the warriors, and in the end, what benefited the warriors benefited all Eyriens—including the aristo Ladies who would soon have a reason to settle in Ebon Rih.
“Do you have a problem with following orders?” Falonar asked coldly.
“Nope,” Hallevar said. “But we could have spread out and taken a good long look at this part of the valley from the Keep to the southernmost edge in half the time.”
“If we’re spread out, then each man is a single target,” Falonar said.
“We weren’t flying in a fighting formation,” Zaranar said. “Routine check of this part of the valley, you said. Nothing different from what we do every week.”
“Except only a handful of men usually go out for these flyovers,” Rothvar said. “And we’re more than a handful of men.”
“Funny how all the men assigned to this flyover are the ones who signed on to work for Lucivar,” Hallevar said. “Wasn’t any reason for me to be out here today. Or Tamnar, Endar, or Kohlvar.”
Zaranar and Rothvar had already descended to their full strength, and they were already protected by at least one shield. Within moments, the other men would do the same. No dark Jewels among them, but if a fight started, they would focus on bringing him down, not on surviving—would focus on buying enough time for whoever was sent from the fight to warn the Queens and the Keep.
He couldn’t afford that fight. Backing down left a sour taste in his mouth, but this morning proved one thing: He wasn’t going to be able to trust any of these men once he became the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih. That was a hard disappointment, especially the loss of a weapons maker of Kohlvar’s skill.
But he would deal with that another day.
“I followed my instructions, and that included who was assigned to this flyover,” Falonar said. “If you have a problem with those instructions, take it up with Yaslana.”
“We’ll do that,” Rothvar said.
They moved out in two fighting formations, flying hard and fast until each group caught the Wind that could accommodate all of them.
Falonar stayed on the mountain overlooking Doun. He’d catch up to them easily enough, and be back in his eyrie when the news came from the north.
There were only four people in The Tavern, but it felt much too crowded, and the air felt too stuffy to breathe. Slipping into her coat, Surreal released the Gray lock on the door, stepped outside, and studied Riada’s main street.
Nothing moved. Not a horse, not a cart, not a person. Not even a dog. The village was locked down. Lady Shayne hadn’t hesitated when Surreal had given that order—and hadn’t asked why
she
was giving the order on Yaslana’s behalf instead of Falonar. And wasn’t that interesting?
*Sadi?* she called on a psychic thread.
*Something wrong?* he asked.
*No, it’s quiet—Wait.* She saw the Eyriens arrowing toward Riada. Fighting formations. That couldn’t be good.
Holding the psychic link open between them, she wrapped herself in a Gray shield and stepped to the edge of the sidewalk. Being the only person in sight, she wouldn’t be hard to spot.
They came in fast, then backwinged and landed half a block from where she stood. Rothvar and Zaranar led the formations. They were the ones who approached her, along with Hallevar and Kohlvar. The others called in crossbows or war blades and watched the buildings and the sky.
“The village is locked down?” Rothvar asked. “Why?”
“Where is the Healer and her sister? Endar’s family?” Zaranar asked.
She spotted Falonar gliding toward them, backwinging with too little concern considering how tense the other men were. She waited until he joined the four men who seemed to be the unofficial leaders of the group.
“There is trouble in the north,” Surreal said. “There’s a chance it’s going to spill over onto Riada. So we’ve prepared the village and alerted the Queen and her Master of the Guard. Nurian, Jillian, and Endar’s family are with Marian.”
“Yaslana?” Hallevar asked.
She looked straight at Falonar. “He’s gone north to deal with the problem.”
You hadn’t figured the Queen would lock down the village, putting everyone on alert, did you, sugar? And as sure as the sun doesn’t shine in Hell, you weren’t expecting anyone from Lucivar’s family to be anticipating a fight here.
“When did he leave?” “We were just farting over Doun with that flyover. Why didn’t he call us?” “Who did he have with him?” “Who’s guarding his eyrie?”
A jumble of voices since all four men were asking the same questions, throwing the words at her.
Thunder rolled down the mountain, a warning of temper that silenced all of them.
“Prince Sadi is guarding the eyrie,” Surreal said. “Yaslana will have to answer the rest of your questions when he returns.”
The door behind her opened. Rainier stepped out, followed by Merry and Briggs. Not bothering to swear at them for leaving the shielded building, she put a Gray shield around the three of them and said, *Stay put.*
“Have they heard from Lucivar?” Merry asked.
“No,” Surreal said, watching the Eyriens. All the Warlords were angry. If there
was
trouble in the north, they shouldn’t have been pissing around with a flyover. Maybe they wouldn’t have followed Lucivar north, but they would have formed a guard to watch over Doun and Riada.
Nothing that was done today made sense if there was
real
trouble.
She’d barely finished that thought when an Eyrien came winging in from the opposite direction—from the north.
He stumbled as he landed. Bloody face, bloody clothes.
*He’s the same one who came this morning to fetch Lucivar,* Merry told her.
Surreal felt the cold rage twining down the link she still had with Sadi. Shit shit shit. She should have broken the link when she had a chance. If she cut him off now, he’d be down here among the Eyriens looking for answers, and he wouldn’t be concerned about who, if anyone, survived that little chat.
“He’s dead!” the young Warlord cried as he stumbled toward them. “Yaslana is dead!”
“No!” Hallevar roared. “There’s nothing in this valley strong enough to bring down the Ebon-gray!”
*Except his brother,* Surreal sent. The snarl that came back to her was full of hot anger, not cold rage. Thank the Darkness for that.
“Where?” Rothvar shouted as Zaranar said, “Are you sure?”
“That bastard was expecting this,” Rainier whispered in her ear.
She looked at Falonar and swore.
Rainier was right. The other Eyriens were angry, upset, outraged. But Falonar stood there, looking stiff and accepting.
“I don’t believe it,” Rothvar said. “I’ve seen Yaslana fight. You look me in the eyes and say it again.”
“I saw it!” the young Warlord shouted. “Lucivar Yaslana is—”
Surreal threw her arms over her head as the Warlord’s body exploded with such force the pebbles of bone against her shield sounded like hail against a window. Behind her, Merry screamed, and Rainier and Briggs both cried out in shock.
A moment later, she felt that Ebon-gray presence and looked down the street.
He was covered in blood that ran from his half-opened wings and dripped from the war blade. She’d seen that glazed look when he’d fought in the spooky house. She eased back enough to shelter Merry.
“I
told
you nothing could bring him down!” Hallevar yelled.
Shouts and cheers as Lucivar walked toward the Eyriens, although how they could see him through the red rain clouding the street was beyond her. It settled faster than it should have, given the amount of power that had been punched into that fool, as if a hand were pressing it down.
*Surreal?* Daemon asked.
*He’s alive, I think—and
very
pissed off.”
*You think?*
*He’s covered in so much blood it’s hard to tell.* Shit. Shouldn’t have told Daemon that.
Lucivar stared at Falonar, who seemed frozen.
Rothvar, however, took a step forward. “How may we be of service, Prince?” he asked Lucivar. “Is there any cleanup that needs to be done in the north?”
Lucivar continued to stare at Falonar. “No cleanup. This prick was the last enemy on the killing field.”
“What about the Eyriens who fought with you?” Zaranar asked. “Do any of them need help?”
“There weren’t any.”
Stunned silence.
“
None?
” Hallevar finally said.
“None,” Lucivar said.
Surreal didn’t like the flat sound of Lucivar’s voice. It wasn’t
Lucivar
.
He turned his head and looked at her. “Are you well?”
That’s the question I’d like to ask you.
“Yes, I’m well. What can I do for you, Yaslana?”
“Inform the Queen that the trouble has been dealt with. She can release the village from lockdown. Where is my brother?”
Don’t you know?
“At your eyrie.”
Lucivar focused on Rothvar and Zaranar. “Take your formations and do a sweep over Riada and its landen villages.”
They nodded, but Hallevar said, “I’ve been out doing flyovers around Doun all morning. I’d appreciate a chance to thaw out these old bones.”
Old bones, my ass
, Surreal thought, watching Hallevar, Kohlvar, Tamnar, and Endar leave the formations and come up beside her. If the Gray was going out to report to Riada’s Queen, there would be sufficient warriors to take her place guarding The Tavern.
“Falonar,” Lucivar said too softly. “With me. Now.” Spreading his wings, he launched himself skyward and headed for Falonar’s eyrie.
Falonar didn’t look at any of them, said nothing to any of them. He hesitated a moment, then followed Lucivar.
*Sadi?* Surreal called.
No answer. Sometime during the past few moments he had quietly broken the link between them. She had a sick, shivery feeling it was because he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking.
Lucivar waited in the front room of Falonar’s eyrie. He just stared at the other Warlord Prince, saying nothing.
“They’re all dead?” Falonar finally asked, keeping his mind blank of all thoughts—and disappointment.
“While I was going over that field, making sure I finished the kill on every one of those bastards, I kept thinking about how you used to benefit from schemes you had no part of—at least on the surface,” Lucivar said.
“You finished the kill on all of them? Why? Were you afraid they would make the transition to demon-dead and remain a threat?”
“You fool. I was afraid of what would happen to the rest of the Eyriens if one of those bastards made the transition and ended up having a chat with my father,” Lucivar snapped. “I’m not interested in any explanation or justification for why they were on that field, standing against me. They told me the Blood’s code of honor doesn’t apply to a half-breed bastard, and that’s all I needed to know. But my father might see things differently, and I don’t want him to have a reason to start thinking about a purge.”
For a moment, Falonar couldn’t breathe. “He would do that?”
“You stupid son of a whoring bitch,” Lucivar roared. “What did you think you’d gain by this maneuver? A title? Think again. The
Keep
decides who rules in this valley. You would have been allowed to stand as the ruler of the Eyriens, but you wouldn’t have been given control of Ebon Rih. You and the people you ruled would have to make a living out of what you could grow and hunt on the mountains.”