Chapters (57)
“Then it’s done,” he replies. “I’ll leave you to gather the ambassadors. I will consult with Noam and the scholars to decide the route the teams will take.”
Sunlight breaks over the horizon in the east as the king continues assigning duties. I take the moment to breathe. Beside me, Lyreina grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly.
“Congratulations,” she says. “What an honor.”
Serving as the King’s Voice is an honor, and one that I had not thought to dream of, at least for a few more years. Sethran will not believe it, I think, reveling in that small excitement. Rowan will probably scream with joy. My younger sister isn’t one to keep her emotions in check.
When the king stands to go, so do we all. The rising sun sends light directly into my eyes. I have never been in the Glass Tower at first light. Used for ceremonies and council meetings like this, the hallowed room lives up to its name. The twelve sides of the Tower alternate between arched mirrors and open windows. At all times of the day, it catches light and reflects it wildly into the skies. It is the best place in the city to see Vyrinterra and the continent Balmora at the same time.
Our city, the Heliana, is a paladin in the skies between them. We Leonodai are one part of the Four Kingdoms: two on Vyrinterra itself, one in the depths of the sea, and one in the skies. As far as we know, we are the last of the magical races. We never forgot what happened to the fifth kingdom, the fox-kin, long lost to the humans’ greed …
For decades, we Leonodai had kept the encroaching humans at bay to the gratitude of the other kingdoms. No matter how bad the battles get at the coast and sea, Leonodai can always retreat and recoup. Humans can’t fly and follow us.
But as it turns out, they don’t need to fly, for birds already did, and they brought the humans’ disease with them. For as long as anyone could remember, the Heliana had been the safest place in the known world.
And now that safety is gone.
1
ROWAN
Blood and feathers litter the arena. I flare my wings, digging my claws into the ground and taking a defensive position while I decide my next move. Across the pit, my opponent lets out a snarl of annoyance. Blood drips from the jagged cut above her eye. My strike caught her as her helm had slipped sideways just enough for my claw to slice into the skin of her brow. She shakes her head, and droplets fly.
Still, she’s a warrior-elect like me, and she doesn’t let up. We may not be fighting to kill as we will when the king calls us to arms, but that doesn’t mean either of us are going to show much mercy.