Illucia now occupies five towns on our outer border. My letters to their general and Queen Razel have gone ignored. Lady Turren has suggested we poison the towns’ water supply, as well as those of any neighboring villages (I’m starting to suspect she may be just as merciless as her father was). She says our greatest advantage is the heat, as he believes the Illucians are unprepared for a Rhodairen summer. But I’m not sure I can do that. It would mean evacuating the towns and quite possibly making them unlivable. I don’t want to destroy people’s homes.

Lord Rynthene has stripped one of his ships of identifying marks to send for you. It’s currently docked near the border in a fishing village on the coast. Elair. Do you remember it? Mother took us there once on our way to the Ambriels. You ate so much fried fish, it made you sick.

I miss you. Stay safe, and send word the moment you’re prepared to leave.

Love,

Caliza

Kiva tossed the letter into the fireplace, nudging it with the metal poker until it turned to ash. “Things are getting worse,” she said. “How much longer until we can move?”

“A few more days,” I told her. “Res is still too fragile.”

Kiva stabbed the hot coals with the poker. “Let’s pray Rhodaire has that long.”

* * *

My mind strayed as Ericen and I ran through drills in the misty courtyard. Even as I focused on the correct steps and forms of the new moves he’d taught me, I held tight to the cord with Res. It’d grown even stronger, and the more I focused on it, the more I felt him there.

The link between us thrummed, filling me with a sense of annoyance. Not my own but his.

It wasn’t the first hint of emotion I’d felt from the crow. It’d taken me a while to realize the wisps of feelings weren’t my own, and even now, I couldn’t always tell the difference. But with each passing minute, the connection between us grew stronger, like a rope pulling taut, and more and more of his emotions flared to life along it.

His magic had to be close to manifesting. I could feel it.

I only prayed it was enough to seal this alliance. Enough to stop Illucia.

My gaze flickered to Ericen, who was moving through a series of sword poses. The Centerian was in two weeks. If everything went according to plan, I’d be long gone by then. Would he be strong enough to win? And if he did, would he serve at his mother’s side in this war?

Would he fight against me?

As though he felt my eyes on him, the prince paused in his drills to face me, his bare chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Taking notes?” he asked with a catlike grin.