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Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Bastien

Bastien bent over a table in his tent, scanning recently drawn maps that marked all the forces they’d congregated not only at Camp Rosethorn but in various regions around Kestevayne. His palms pressed down onto the worn wood as he surveyed for error in their planning.

They were as ready as they could be, and no matter how much work he’d done coordinating the battalions, none of this would’ve been possible without Thalia’s magic, without her bravery to take on the shadows from Amell, learn to wield it, and then offer her own blood day after day to protect her people.

She was the most remarkable woman he knew.

She was also all he could think about. As the days ticked by since he last saw her, he found himself longing for her more and more, rather than the ache easing with time and distance.

Bastien had thought he only had crumbs to offer her, but it plagued his mind that if they survived this, he’d work his ass off every day for the rest of his life to make her happy.

Somehow, he had changed, and he understood he had the capacity for love to grow again.

Hell, it had grown.

He’d fallen in love with her again. Simple as that.

And while he couldn’t remember well the excited buzz of those feelings from years ago, he could tell that what he felt now was deeper.

Wiser.

More settled.

Yes… he could offer her even more, as long as he hadn’t blown it completely.

But he doubted he had. Thalia would forgive him—she loved him, and he knew her soul and heart. She wasn’t going to give up on him so easily. That was something of which he was certain.

Now he just had to figure the best way to make it up to her. He imagined it would take a bit of groveling, perhaps more apologies. A small price to pay to start anew with his woman.

“Bastien,” Kieran said as he appeared out of thin air, having bent distance to step right into the commandant’s tent.

Ice swept through Bastien’s veins, not just from the tone of his brother’s voice but from the look on Kieran’s face. He knew without even needing to hear the words that something bad had happened.

“It’s Thalia… you need to come back to Clairmont now.”

“To where?” Bastien asked, needing the specific location and not wasting time on what had happened.

“Her house.”

That’s all Bastien needed, and he bent distance without waiting for Kieran. Stepping into the living area of Thalia’s home, he first noted all the blood. A bright red spray along the wall, across the chairs, and a large puddle on the floor where Merrilyn lay with her eyes open and unseeing.

His stomach roiled at noticing her lifeless body, but he was more worried about where Thalia was and whether she’d suffered the same fate. It never once crossed his mind that Thalia had murdered Merrilyn, though.

“Oh, thank gods you’re here,” Heph said as he ran from the bedroom.

Kieran materialized beside Bastien and explained, “Heph came home to find this and Thalia gone. I came to get you right away.”

“Where’s Amell?” Bastien asked. If they ever needed a powerful ally, it was now.

“Back to the Underworld,” Heph replied as he wrung his hands in agitation. “Just yesterday.”

Panic settled deep in Bastien’s gut, and he rubbed his head, then his neck. He looked to Heph. “When was the last time anyone saw Thalia? And do we know why Merrilyn was here?”

“I sent Merrilyn over with a tea for Thalia. She was running herself down through the amount of blood she was letting for the spells. But I left Thalia probably two hours ago.”

Bastien growled, angry at himself for not providing oversight. He should’ve known Thalia would give all she had and then more she didn’t have to protect her people. But that was moot now.

He moved onto the porch and looked around. Little Sam stood near the fence that surrounded the yard. He looked at the house curiously but still with shy reserve. Sam didn’t talk to many people, but over the last couple weeks, he’d been coming around to see Thalia, definitely warming to her, or at least that’s what Kieran had reported to Bastien after his daily visits to Clairmont. His trips had been mostly about the status of training, but he always gave Bastien updates about Thalia, whether he asked for them or not.

Trotting down the steps, Bastien walked up to Sam. The child didn’t shy away but dropped his gaze as Bastien approached. He noticed that the boy had newly designed crutches made out of what looked like a lightweight metal—probably something Thalia conjured with a little creative magic.

“Sam,” Bastien said, struggling to keep his voice calm and nonthreatening. “Did you see anyone go in or out of Thalia’s house today?”

The boy nodded but wouldn’t meet Bastien’s eyes.

Squatting to get more on the little boy’s level, Bastien put a hand to his shoulder. “This is important, Sam. Thalia could be in danger. Can you tell me what you saw?”

He lifted his head the second Bastien said Thalia could be in danger. “A pretty woman with curly black hair went in first. She had a white basket.”

“First?” Bastien smiled. “Someone else go in?”

“Her cousin. Archer.”

“Did Archer and Thalia come out?”

Sam shook his head. “No one came out, and no one else went in.”

Which meant they bent distance to leave. It made no sense. Thalia would never leave that house willingly with Merrilyn dead on the floor.

Archer must have killed Merrilyn and she appeared to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

But why would he kill her?

And did he take Thalia against her will?

Bastien could only hope that Archer hadn’t abducted Thalia for nefarious purposes—he was family. He wouldn’t hurt Thalia.

Unless…

Bastien stood and squeezed Sam’s shoulder before bolting back into the house. Both Heph and Kieran were looking down at Merrilyn’s quiet form.

Pointing at Heph, Bastien said, “I need you to summon Amell. Tell him that I think Archer is either under Ferelith’s control or he’s working with her, but I’m sure he took Thalia with him.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Kieran growled.

Heph moved into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and knife, and immediately made an offering to call on the king of the Underworld.

“Kieran,” Bastien said, turning to his brother. “Have someone take care of Merrilyn and then get all forces here ready and moved to Camp Rosethorn. Then travel to each base camp and tell everyone we’re moving out within two hours.”

“To where?” Kieran asked.

“Kestevayne. To save Thalia.” He looked into the kitchen where Heph again scored his palm, squeezing more blood into the bowl. “Bring Amell to Camp Rosethorn.”

Heph didn’t look up from his work but nodded.

And with that, Bastien flashed back to Camp Rosethorn to organize troops for a massive transfer of soldiers to the gates of the capital.

*     *     *

Within an hourof returning to the base camp, all the heads of the royal houses, along with their highest-ranking officers, gathered in Bastien’s tent. They stood around the table, regarding the map of Kestevayne, arguments flying.

Not about the best method to breach the city, but whether they should go at all. The plan had been to march in two days, and there were still some minor preparations to be made but they weren’t necessary. Certainly not worth the waste of time Bastien knew they didn’t have.

“Are we sure this is Ferelith’s doing?” Baynor Sorin asked for at least the third time.

“No,” Bastien growled in anger. “But it’s a damn good, educated guess. Archer went in and never came out. They’re both missing, and there’s a dead body left behind.”

Kieran added his thoughts. “Plus Archer was with Thalia when the attempted kidnapping took place weeks ago. He’s not been around since then and—”

“He was off to other regions as an ambassador,” Francis Baudin said. He was normally a quiet royal, so his words were a shock.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Kieran retorted.

“I’m pointing out, he could have gone in that house and bent distance back out before that young woman died. Thalia could have killed her—”

Bastien lunged for the man, clamped a hand around his throat, and squeezed. His voice was low but deadly. “I’m all for us discussing theories, but if I ever hear you imply that Thalia did something so heinous, I’ll end you.”

Kieran quickly pulled his brother off the prince, but it was the D’Amuris royal who said, “We know Ferelith tried to take the princess once. Remove Archer from the mixture completely. Thalia is missing, and she wouldn’t go off on her own. It stands to reason that Ferelith has her.”

“Exactly,” Bastien drawled, sweeping a hand toward D’Amuris. “We need to move at once.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re not ready,” Baynor Sorin said.

More argument ensued among the houses, the military commanders talking over all of them. Bastien listened with that muscle in his jaw ticking, trying hard to let each person have their say.

The flap of the tent opened, and Heph walked in, searched the crowd, and located Bastien. He maneuvered through, and Bastien bent his head to the older man. “Is Amell here?”

Heph shook his head grimly. “He didn’t answer, but that doesn’t mean he’s ignoring me. It could be that he simply can’t answer. It could be that he’s prohibited. But I think I know why Ferelith wants Thalia.”

Bastien motioned and led Heph out of the tent. Kieran followed.

“You think she wants her for reasons other than to gain the throne?” Bastien asked.

“I don’t think she wants to kill her,” Heph replied. “Because if she did, she’s had opportunity to do it. Those soldiers who kidnapped Thalia were bringing her back to Ferelith for a reason. So I did some research in the Conclave’s library.”

“But they don’t have tomes on blood magic,” Kieran said.

Heph shook his head. “I wasn’t looking at magics but rather history. More specifically, the history of House Clairmont. They’ve been the ruling monarchy over Kestevayne from the start. Their magic was the original from the druid daemons that founded Vyronas. The largest ley line sits under Kestevayne, but that line is tied directly to the Clairmonts. They are powerful because the magic is sourced from, and answers to, them. More specifically, to their blood.”

Bastien nodded in understanding. “And killing Thalia won’t change the history. The magic won’t work for Ferelith the way it does for a Clairmont. She wants Thalia’s magic, not the throne.”

“But why would she need it if she managed to take over using her own powers?” Kieran asked with a frown.

“Because history will bear out that she won’t maintain power with those blood magics. Others will learn how to wield it. Power-hungry factions that have no moral qualms with human sacrifice will make a play for her throne. There is a good chance others will have as great a power as she has, and that will not make her sovereign over all. But if she commands the ley lines, she could hold power. She’s either going to try to control Thalia to control the Clairmont magic, or she’s going to work out a spell that will transfer the Clairmont magic to herself. Either way, chances are she needs Thalia alive for the time being.”

Bastien pondered and could not find any flaws in Heph’s reasoning. However, he didn’t want to share it with the others. “If they think there’s no urgency in marching on Kestevayne, they’ll put this off a few more days. I intend to move out within the hour.” He looked to his brother and asked, “Do you agree?”

“I do, and I have your back on that,” Kieran replied.

Bastien nodded and looked to Heph. “Continue to try to reach Amell.”

“He can’t help our side,” Heph said.

“I know, but he could at least help protect Thalia. He’s our most powerful tool, if he’ll come.”

“I’m on it,” Heph said and disappeared. Bastien didn’t know where Heph would go to spill blood to call on Amell, but he couldn’t worry about that.

He pivoted and walked back into the tent, arguments still heated and ongoing. Bastien moved to the table, pounded his fist on it, and barked, “Silence. Now.”

It went quiet and all eyes were pinned on the commandant of the Clairmont army. “Every minute we argue, Thalia could be suffering gods know what. I am marching my army within the hour. I expect all who have pledged to stand behind the Clairmonts to be ready to go with me. If you don’t, consider our allegiances at an end.”

No one said a word. It seemed that everyone held their breath.

Bastien looked around the room, almost daring every person in there to stand against him so he could unleash his frustration. When no one did, he nodded and called all the heads of the various armies forward so they could proceed to assemble troops for transfer through the Rosethorn Valley and straight to the doorsteps of Kestevayne.

Twenty minutes later, the tent cleared out and everyone moved to assemble their forces. They would begin transferring with Thalia’s protection amulets, which would allow them to advance en masse and hopefully deflect deadly blood magics.

Bastien sighed, rolling up the map and tossing it into a trunk. He took a moment to don his battle armor—chest plates, shoulder guards, and wrist cuffs.

When he turned for the tent door, he saw Kieran standing there, already dressed in his own armor. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Bastien muttered.

“She’ll be okay,” Kieran said.

Bastien’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched. “You don’t know that.”

His brother smiled. “I know that I have faith in you, and I know that because you love her so much, there is no way you’re going to let her die.” Kieran walked toward Bastien and put a hand to his shoulder.

“What makes you think I love her?” Bastien grumbled.

“I note you don’t deny it,” Kieran countered.

Bastien smiled. “No. Not denying it.”

Kieran grinned. “Good. Now let’s go kick that evil bitch’s ass.”

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