5. Five

Five

“This letter was delivered to me by a messenger this afternoon.” His gaze lingered on the slanted, longhand scribbled across the page as he handed it to Ata. She uncrossed her arms, pushing off the wall opposite me and snatched it from his hands.

The image of the woman we had seen flickered through my mind as Ata’s eyes widened, her face draining of the little color it had as she read. Her eyes dashed over the last line of letters on the parchment and looked up at Wren. Her features were unreadable, still as a stone pillar.

Wren continued as Ardan pulled the paper from her hands. “It informed me of the attack.”

“Why? Why Redelvtum?” I pressed. Fear clung to the edges of my words as Ardan handed the letter to Taft and locked his eyes on Wren, his brows furrowing as he processed what he just read.

“The House of High has been hiding something from us, and the other realms,” Wren answered.

“Not something, someone—a child,” Taft said, looking up from the letter as he stood from his chair and started pacing again.

“The War Council has been secretive. Over the last year, their lack of interest in the unusually high activity and uprisings in the other realms has seemed suspicious. Even more concerning, is the fact that they have not wanted me to go out and seek more information. Their response to this has been that ‘how other Realms handle their people is none of our concern,’ which, historically, has not been the case. However, I have been reaching out to my friends in intelligence, and they have had a lot to say—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You put spies in other realms?”

Wren lifted a brow as he responded. “Yes, I did.”

I glanced over at Ata who was nodding her approval.

“Does the War Council know about this?” Taft snapped, shaking the letter in the air as Wren’s eyes darted to him.

“No. They cannot be trusted,” Wren responded coolly. Taft tensed, his knuckles turning white as his hands gripped at the back of his chair—trying to restrain himself.

“This is completely unethical. You have to tell the War Council and the House of High if an attack is coming. It is your job to gather intelligence for them,” Taft said, his tone biting as his eyes narrowed. Wren placed both his palms on his desk and leaned across it, facing Taft and locking eyes with him.

“My job, ” Wren snarled, “is to keep Redelvtum safe by gathering intelligence. If the War Council is compromised—which I believe they are—my next course of action is to get the information to whatever individuals I feel are trustworthy.” He crossed his arms. “Or have I misjudged you by deeming you worthy of that trust?”

My head snapped to Taft. I had never heard them talk to each other like this. Maybe this was normal for them when it came to work, but in all the years of our friendship, I have never seen them so cold with one another. Taft’s eyes narrowed but his body relaxed.

“It has long been said in The Stories that a child born from the Gods would appear somewhere throughout the realms.” Wren continued, “That child is said to possess the most powerful magic we have ever seen. If this child falls into the wrong hands, it could be used to shatter the realms—to decimate them.”

Taft’s hands slammed onto the back of his chair, knocking it to the floor. “The War Council wouldn’t keep this from us!” Taft shouted, motioning towards the House of High with his hands. “If that child is in Redelvtum, they would have been preparing for an attack for years!”

Ardan took a step towards his brother as if to shield him from Taft’s outburst as the sound of knocking reverberated through the room. Our spines collectively stiffened.

“Come in!” Wren shouted towards the large heavy door. It swung open on its hinges and Asrai sauntered into the room, scanning each of us as she bent over, standing Taft’s chair back onto its four legs. She sat down, looking up at Taft with a demanding smile.

“Please, my child, take a seat.” There was a fierce calmness in her voice as she gestured to the chair next to her and turned to lock eyes on Wren. Taft sat, but the look on his face gave him away.

Horror. He was horrified to see her join this conversation.

“I hope Wren has been able to fill you in on the current predicament we are in,” Asrai purred, her voice too relaxed—too steady.

“You knew? You knew the House of High was hiding this from us?” Taft’s voice was torn between anger and hurt as she turned towards him.

“Of course I knew,” Asrai said as a heavy silence descended upon the room.

“Who is the child?” Ardan’s voice broke through the stunned quiet.

“Ahh, that we are unsure of.” Taft scoffed and Asrai shushed him before continuing, “All we . . .” She paused, correcting herself. “All Wren has been able to gather is that the War Council has known this child was in this realm for some time, and they have successfully hidden it from us all, until now.” Asrai’s voice tightened as she spoke. “With this information now in the hands of The Silliand and Ammord, we were lucky enough to have been warned by Ithia of the attack happening today. They want the child, and they will tear Redelvtum apart to find them.”

“Why us?” Ata hissed from the corner, her eyes hard and cold. “Why give us this information? What do you expect us to do with it?” She placed her arms across her chest and lifted her chin. Asrai stood in response, rolling her shoulders back and straightening to her full height.

She had to be almost six feet, but her long, built legs made her look so much taller. Her fair skin shone brightly against the gray warrior ensemble she had dressed herself in since the day I met her. Her deep red hair flowed down to her waist. Tight, twisting braids pulled half of it up into a bun on the back of her head, revealing her pointed ears. The leather corset around her middle was cinched tight enough to protect her core, while a sheath of daggers of all shapes and sizes hung across her back and chest. I cowered under her gaze as her eyes lingered on each one of us.

“Why do you think I have been so hard on each one of you all these years?” We stayed silent. “I knew this day would come and I needed you to be ready. I have been preparing you for this. All of you possess specific skill sets that can help protect this academy, this realm, from any danger that threatens us from the other realms, or inside our own,” Asrai said, but I could barely hear her words over the beating of my heart.

“I’m leaving today,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the black and gray marble under my feet.

“Speak up, girl. I did not teach you to cower in the presence of anyone.” Asrai’s words boomed through the room, biting at me as I willed my eyes to meet hers.

“It’s my Choice Day today. I’m leaving,” I stated, squaring my shoulders and forcing my stance to fake some semblance of confidence. Her eyes lingered on me for a few seconds like she was searching for something inside of me, then turned back to the rest of the group, ignoring my statement.

“Wren was informed by one of his intelligence officers, twelve moons ago, that The Silliands suspected that this child was in our midst. I took that information to the House of High, and they told me to let the War Council handle it. After much questioning and waiting I grew uneasy with a feeling that led me to believe they knew and were keeping it from us.” She took in a sharp breath. “That’s when I called on Wren to find out as much as he could from whisperings in other realms. Which has led us to this letter.” Asrai gestured to the paper now sitting on the edge of his desk. Taft’s eyes widened as her words registered.

“You’ve known about this for a year?” Taft barked.

Shock flashed on my face at the tone he directed toward her.

Her head snapped around and her eyes shot daggers at him, pushing him back into his chair with an invisible force. “I do not answer to you, child,” Asrai spat. Her words lingered in the air for only seconds before she continued, her voice softening, “I trust you can all imagine the outcome if The Silliands or Ammord got a hold of this child? The Marzog Fae do not treat their own children kindly. They will kill that child trying to extract its magic if they locate it.” Asrai raised a brow as she said the words, then pulled a watch from a pocket in her vest.

I had never noticed until now, but it looked exactly like the one she had given me. I lifted my hand up to my breast pocket, and felt it still safely tucked away. We nodded in response to her question as we tried to wrap our minds around the reality of the situation.

“Wren, I trust you can handle the remainder of this meeting?”

Wren bowed his head to her but before she could turn to the door, Taft stood and faced her.

“How could you keep this from me?” His voice cracked as he tried to contain the anger laced in his words. “I am your second in command. I should have been preparing the War Teams from the moment you had suspicions.” Asrai looked at him with a soft smile and brought her hand to his face, cupping it in her palm.

She sighed heavily before responding. “My dear boy, you only see the world in black and white. In this, I needed someone who saw the gray.” She glanced at Wren then back into Taft’s eyes. “Now, after all these years, your time has come to protect us. That is where you are needed.” Asrai’s hand dropped from Taft’s face as she turned to look at us one more time.

“Wren will instruct you on what comes next, I advise that you all let him guide you,” she said as she turned and headed for the door. Her long fingers slid around the handle and twisted. “Ataliia.” Ata’s back straightened at the sound of her full name sliding off Asrai’s lips. “You and Ardan, please come with me.” Ata and Ardan followed her out of the room and I listened as their muffled voices disappeared down the corridor.

The large marble office felt suffocating; the walls seemed to inch closer and closer, crushing me with their weight. Panic clawed its way up my throat, squeezing my chest in a viselike grip. I was trapped in this shrinking room with no escape.

“What the fuck is going on, Wren?” I hissed as his expression fell.

Resigned, he sank into his chair and leaned back, bracing himself before answering me. “War is coming,” Wren finally said, his tone grave. “And I fear it will not be contained to just one realm.” He rubbed his temples with both hands, like he was trying to soothe a throbbing pain in his head. “Today, our only concern is the impending attack on Rahval. Once we make it through this, we will try to locate the child and get them to safety.”

“Is that where the child is being held?” Taft asked, walking back and forth in front of Wren’s desk with both hands locked behind his head.

“We believe so. We do not believe the House of High would keep such a powerful being outside of their reach,” Wren said as he stood again, straightening his black leather ensemble and pushing his chair towards his desk.

“What do you need from us?” My voice sounded distant—unrecognizable—as I struggled to understand the information that had just been thrown at us.

“Taft, ready the War Teams and get them prepared to leave within the hour to guard Rahval. We will need all the help we can get,” Wren commanded. Taft gave a curt nod, his dark eyes meeting mine for just a moment before he spun on his heel and swiftly exited the room.

I watched as the door closed behind him, feeling a sense of unease settle in my stomach. Wren stood next to me, his gaze fixed on the closed door for what felt like an eternity before he turned to face me.

“Are you packed to leave today?”

“Yes, my stuff is still down in the dining hall. But—”

“Good,” he cut me off. “I need you to get the children, anyone sixteen and younger, into holding.” He tossed a leather jacket over his shoulders and zipped it up. “Once they are safe, we need to get you out.” Wren strapped a belt of daggers over his left shoulder and right forearm, then met my eyes.

“What about the others who are supposed to leave today?” I fought to keep myself composed despite the sense of panic crawling up my spine.

“They will be leaving with you. We cannot afford to open the gates more than once today. It puts us at risk,” he said, running a hand over his jaw. “Once Rahval is under siege, this fortress will become our last line of defense. No one will be leaving its walls.” Our eyes met, and a silent conversation passed between us.

I studied his face, tracing the creases around his eyes and mouth, trying to capture every detail in my memory. Many underestimated him; not understanding the power that lay within his quiet demeanor. But when he did speak, he commanded attention. He pulled me into a hug, and I felt his strength encompass me as I rested my head on his shoulder.

Don’t cry, I chanted silently to myself.

Today, I had to be the warrior I spent the last thirteen years training to be. I would not leave my family alone to fight this battle. I could not leave them.

“You will be all right, you know,” Wren said, pulling away and resting his hands on my shoulders with a strained smile. “We need you . . .” He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “ I need you to be brave.” A tear crept into the corner of my eye and I sniffed it away, straightening into a fighter’s stance as I looked up at him.

“I can do that, and I will find you once I’m done.”

He nodded to me and turned to open the door. “Be careful, Hyacinth,” Wren commanded in a solemn tone then shut the door behind him.