“Thank you, Officer March,” Kiro said, before Trey could say anything else. “We’ll now have to discuss options, so I’ll ask you wait in the foyer.”
Summarily dismissed, I left the platform and walked out of the room. Trey’s gaze followed my retreat. I knew without looking it was fierce, filled with anger and frustration, even if the rest of his expression was remote. Knew it because it was a river of emotion that flowed through me, amplifying my own fears and uncertainty.
I somehow made it out the door without giving in to that flood of emotion, but once the doors closed, the trembling began. I staggered across to the small seating area to the left of the main door, then dropped my head between my knees and sucked in air.
They were going to approve the plan. I had absolutely no doubt of that. Those who lived and ruled here in the Upper Reaches were a practical lot, and if there was any chance that one lone, unimportant unlit soldier could do what an army could not, then they’d order it done. No doubt there would be soldiers, equipment, and witches on standby should I fail, but they would nevertheless take the chance that Saska wasn’t entirely mad, that her words held some grains of truth, and thereby risk only one life rather than many.
But the thought of going to into that mountain and roaming through the tunnels alone and without any sort of assistance filled me with a fear unlike anything I’d ever known.
You will not be alone, the voices said. This time, it was both the whispering wind and the more sober, earthy tones of the earth. We will be with you.
Which was good to hear, but it didn’t help the fear. Because if something went wrong down there, I’d die alone. And for any Nightwatch officer, that was perhaps the worst of all fates.
Neither the wind nor the earth had a reply to that. After a few more minutes, I pushed back in the seat, rested my head against the wall, and closed my eyes. And though I didn’t think I’d sleep given the turmoil and the fear, I did.
Hours passed, and night became day. Eventually the assembly room doors opened and people began to stream out. Most of them ignored me, but a couple of them—including Trey’s brother—did at least glance my way and give me a nod.
Kiro and Trey were in the last group to come out of the room. Trey’s gaze almost immediately came to mine, but his expression was guarded and he didn’t say anything. Kiro was talking animatedly to a man dressed in gold—the color of the Hawthorn ruling house.
I pushed up from the chair as they neared. The stranger looked my way and gave me a tight smile. “I wish you luck, Officer March. Much seems to rest on your young shoulders.”
With that, he strode out of the room. I glanced at Kiro. “So it’s been approved?”
“In theory, yes. There are still many finer details to be worked out, however.”
“Saska said the Irkallan were coming. I don’t think we have the time—”
“You’re not going out there alone and unsupported,” Trey growled. “I don’t care how close the Irkallan are, we’ll at least ensure you have a fighting chance of getting in and getting out.”
“Which is nice sentiment but one that could yet prove costly—”
“You are currently under my command, and therefore my responsibility, March.” His tone was that of a commander, not a lover. “I’ve never sent a soldier into a situation without first ensuring all eventualities have been considered and every chance has been given for a positive outcome. I’m certainly not doing so now.”
He might have conceded the necessity of me doing this, but he was far from happy about it. That, at least, was something we both agreed on. I returned my gaze to Kiro. “So, what happens next?”
“You go rest. I’ve already ordered the Nightwatch to your suite at the Rossis’ to ensure no one comes in or out while you do so.”
“And what about the Irkallan? And the tunnel? What plans are being made to counter both?”
“As I said, they still need refining. We currently await the arrival of the remaining outpost commanders.”
“But the Irkallan—”
“Sensors are being placed under the soil as we speak. We’ll know soon enough if they’re coming,” Kiro said. “Even if the Irkallan’s witchlings are currently working on that tunnel, it could still take them days to reach the wall, and possibly even weeks to burrow under both it and the subterranean levels. Our counteractions will more than likely begin tomorrow.”
We dare not wait until tomorrow, the wind whispered. We do not know how long we have until the Irkallan queen realizes Saska has fallen. We have a limited window in which to act.
Which was undoubtedly true, but I wasn’t about to leave Winterborne without at least saying goodbye to those I cared about. And if I were to have any hope of achieving the task Saska had set me, then I also had to be at my peak, both physically and mentally, and that meant I needed to eat and rest.
I crossed my arms, my fists clenched against the desire to reach out for the man who stood so close. To ask him to wrap his arms around me and keep the gathering darkness at bay, if only for a few precious minutes. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep right now—”
“Try,” Trey said. “Because you’ll need every ounce of strength to survive what comes.”
And survive you must. He didn’t say that out loud, but I heard it nevertheless.
“Then I’ll need some sort of potion to do so,” I continued, voice flat. “There’s altogether too much going through my mind right now.”
“I’ll order a healer to attend your suite.” Kiro glanced at Trey. “We must go. Neve, we’ll drop you off—”
“Thanks, but I’ll walk,” I said. “I’m so cold now that it won’t matter, and I need the fresh air after being stuck here for so long.”
“Yes.” Kiro paused. “I apologize for that. I should have asked for food and wine to be brought to you.”
I shrugged. “I’m not going to fade away for lack of a meal.”
“No, but you could have caught a chill and that—”
“Is the least of my problems right now. Go make your plans, Lord Kiro. I’ll be waiting to play my part.”
He nodded and walked out the door. Trey didn’t immediately follow. Instead, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and said, “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you survive this. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. Everything he could do wouldn’t be enough, and we both knew it. The earth and the air wouldn’t be so silent if there was a sliver of hope.
He studied me for a moment longer, then dropped his hand and followed Kiro out the door. I waited until the carriage had left then walked out into the cold light of day. Though it had finally stopped raining, the air held a bitterness that cut me to the quick, adding to the ice already lying inside.
I resolutely made my way through the Upper Reaches and down the winding road that led to the outer bailey. Goodbyes were in order, and though I managed to keep hold of my emotions, April nevertheless sensed there was something amiss.
“Are you okay?” he said, as I pulled away from his hug.
“Yes. It’s just that this is the first time we’re taking the fight to the Adlin’s home ground, and I’m feeling a little antsy. You know how it is.”
It seemed safer to say it was the Adlin rather than the Irkallan, given the truth behind the attacks hadn’t yet been released to the wider public—and maybe never would.
“Yeah, and I’m wishing right now I was sharing those prefight jitters. Pisses me off no end I’m stuck in here while you and Ava get all the action.”
“Tell you what, I’ll kill a couple of them in your name.” That, at least, was one promise I could keep.
“Excellent.” He squeezed my hand and then released me. “I won’t say be careful because you always are. I will say that you owe me a full recap over several beers once I get out of here.”