I spilled out what I’d been thinking about. “I think we may have just escalated whatever this thing with Lowestar is. We threw a nasty monkey wrench in the works, and who knows what he’ll do next?”
From Camille’s car, Smoky’s voice sounded. “If he’s truly trying to raise some ancient, crusty demigod, that might become his major focus. If he knows we’re on to his slavery operation, he might decide to bring in the big guns, so to speak.”
I groaned, and so did Delilah and Camille.
Camille’s voice came over the phone. “Just what we need, but I have a nasty feeling you’re right. Okay, good to keep in mind. Don’t want to keep it in mind, but we have to be ready for anything at this point.”
And with that, I hung up and we drove on into the silent night.
When we reached home, we took a few minutes to clean up and the others grabbed snacks. Hanna had left a message for me—Roman needed to see me. I glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning.
Our rescued prisoners had all been cleaned and bathed and were huddled in the parlor under the watchful eyes of Nerissa, Vanzir, and Shade, who had been gathering as much information as they could without traumatizing them. We’d talk to them as soon as we put out whatever fire Trenyth had for us.
Camille slipped into the seat in front of the Whispering Mirror and activated it. A moment later, the mist cleared and a guard faced us.
“Allow me a moment and I’ll fetch Lord Trenyth.” His eyes were sober and clear, but something about his expression told me the elf had been through hell. He stood and disappeared to the right, out of our view. True to his word, a moment later, Trenyth slid into the vacant seat.
“I don’t have time to linger, girls. But I wanted to keep you updated. Trillian, are you there?” It was obvious that Trenyth hadn’t slept in days—deep lines underscored his eyes, and he yawned even as he spoke.
Trillian grunted. “Yes, I’m here.”
“The storm has rained its fury on Svartalfheim, I’m sorry to say. The sorcerers did their best to deflect it, and good thing, or the damage would have been worse. But the city is still a smoldering mess. Luckily, they took less damage than Elqaneve, but it’s still bad. Several thousand dead, we think. King Vodox managed to survive, but there is much damage.”
“And the storm?” I asked. “It is still raging?”
Trenyth let out a long sigh. “What mages survived our onslaught tell me they think it has weakened a bit, but yes, and it marches on toward Gylden, the city of the Goldunsan.”
Crap. Gylden was a relatively peaceful city of Fae who lived in the mountains. Reclusive, the Goldunsan were seldom found in cities other than their own. Golden-skinned, they were beautiful in ways that made most Fae glamour seem like a knockoff. But the fact that they had few dealings with outsiders meant they didn’t often form alliances. The storm could trash their city to the ground.
“We’ve alerted them, of course. But now we have a new worry.”
And it just kept coming.
“We’ve received a message from Ceredream stating that there’s some sort of activity happening on their borders. But they sat on the fence too long. We have no reserves left to send them at this point. King Gwyfn of the Nebulveori Mountains is closer; he is sending scouts to the City of the East to find out what they can.”
“So the dwarves are fully involved.” Delilah frowned. “I almost hate to ask but what’s happening in Y’Elestrial?”
“They are prepared—they have gathered every sorcerer and witch they can. They’re all working on war efforts, both in fortifying the city, and in discovering any weakness they can in Telazhar’s army. If we can discover where Telazhar himself is, we can attempt an assassination coup.” He paused. “Your cousin Shamas showed up. We’ve put him to work here—it’s too dangerous for him to attempt the roads to Svartalfheim right now.”
Camille winced, but said nothing.
“And Elqaneve?” I didn’t want to ask, but we had to know. “How are you doing? You look like crap, Trenyth.”
He smiled then, wearily, but it was a smile. “You think I don’t know that? Of course I do. I haven’t slept in days. I’ve been run ragged. Sharah looks just as tired as I am, but I’m making sure she gets as much rest as she can, given that she just had a baby. Is Chase there?”
“No.” Camille started to stand. “Do you need me to go get him? He’s probably asleep at Iris’s.”
“No, let him rest. Sharah misses him terribly. I have a feeling when this war is over, she’s going to drag Elqaneve in directions we have been resisting for years. The people love her—what better heroine than a woman who had to choose duty over the love of her life and her child?”
“Then she’s told your people?” Somehow I couldn’t imagine Sharah keeping her mouth shut.
“Oh, yes. Sharah has a backbone of steel, regardless of that quiet demeanor. Over the past few days, she’s made no bones about mentioning that she left her family back Earthside, and I guess that people here are just too shell-shocked to care if her family happens to be a mostly FBH and a half-breed child. I don’t know how they’ll work it out once the war is settled—may it be settled—but by then, I doubt if any of the former proscriptions regarding heritage will matter.” Trenyth looked both pleased and irritated.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. And that’s the way it should be. We put up with enough crap as children because we were half-breeds. You have to know where our sympathies lie.”
He laughed in return. “Yes, I most certainly do. And trust me, I understand.” After a brief pause, he added, “Camille—Derisa wants to see you as soon as possible. I told her it might not be for a few days, considering what’s going on. She said she may make the trip Earthside, given how dangerous it is over here, now.”
Camille stared at the mirror, her expression blank. “We are in the middle of something big here. I can’t possibly come back right now.”
“Oh, she understands that. This war will not go away in the next day or two—whatever it is, it isn’t an emergency, though she did stress it’s important.” Another pause, and then, “And Trillian? We finally received word from Darynal. He and Taath survived, but Quall is dead. They can’t make it back to Elqaneve right now, given the chaos happening, so they’re headed toward Y’Elestrial.”
“From the desert?” Trillian gnawed on his lip. “That means they’ll have to travel through the Shadow Lands.”
Trenyth nodded, his look matching Trillian’s. “Yes. I know… but it’s the only way. There’s so much unrest in the Southern Wastes that they don’t dare stay there. If they tried to make it up to Nebulveori, chances are they’d be spotted on the way and killed. The goblins are up in arms, and so are the mountain bogies. The dwarves are picking them off right and left. That leaves the Shadow Lands, if they want to work their way back up north.”
“Darynal has family in Svartalfheim. He needs to find out if they are safe or if they perished.” Trillian slowly lowered himself to the sofa. “I have to do something.”
Camille paled. “But the Shadow Lands—you can’t go to the Shadow Lands. Damn it, you know what perils hide there.”
Trillian held her gaze. “Of course I know. But you also know that he is my lavoyda . . . my blood-oath brother. How can I turn my back on him when I know he’s in danger?”
“I do understand.” She stared back at him for a moment. “If you must go, you must. But remember: We need you here, too.”
Trenyth interrupted. “Trillian, listen to Camille. The Shadow Lands are deep and long with history—many who have attempted to pass through their borders are never seen again. For now, Darynal is safe, but if he chooses that route… there is a good chance he will never return. And if you go after him, you, too, may vanish.”