Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Dravic folded his arms across his chest. “If the Morvane have remained hidden all these years, why reveal themselves now?”
Wynn looked directly at him. “A good question that is not easily answered. But one thing is certain. Morvane markings are never carved without purpose.”
“And that purpose?” Dravic asked.
Wynn slowly shook her head. “That is what Lord Oaken hopes I can learn.”
The messenger nodded. “He believes any information on the Morvane has been hidden from him. Every vision he attempts concerning them ends in darkness, as though a veil has been drawn over anything to do with them. He asks that you allow Wynn to touch the markings. If the future cannot be seen… perhaps the past can.”
Wynn lowered her gaze thoughtfully. “Dark magic never truly dies. It waits.” Her eyes lifted to meet Dravic’s. “Something has awakened it.”
Dravic gave a thoughtful nod. “So, Lord Oaken requests that Wynn return to Driochmor.”
“Aye, my king,” the messenger confirmed.
Raised voices suddenly echoed beyond the council chamber door.
It drew Dravic’s attention and annoyance. “Who dares disturb us?”
Tavish listened for a moment. “It sounds as though someone is arguing with the guards.”
“See to it,” Dravic commanded.
Tavish crossed the chamber and opened the heavy door.
Bria stood just beyond it, two guards barring her way while Kaelan shielded her from them.
“Great-grandmother!” Bria called out the moment she saw Wynn. “Are you all right?”
Wynn turned, surprised to hear her worried voice. “I am well, child. Fear not.”
“Let them enter,” Dravic ordered.
At the king’s command, the guards stepped aside at once.
Bria hurried directly to Wynn, Kaelan following at a more measured pace.
Unnoticed by everyone, a tiny golden light slipped through the doorway before the heavy doors closed once again.
“Great-grandmother,” Bria said, taking Wynn’s hands in hers. “When I learned you had been summoned here, I feared…”
“You feared I intended her harm?” Dravic interrupted, his voice sharp.
Bria looked to the king. “I meant no disrespect, my king. I only wished to make certain she was safe.”
Dravic glared at her. “Why would I harm someone who could prove beneficial to my kingdom?”
Bria lowered her head respectfully. “Forgive me, my king. My thoughts ran ahead of reason.”
“As they often do when those we love are involved,” Wynn said gently, resting a reassuring hand over Bria’s.
Bria let out a slow breath before turning her eyes on her great-grandmother. “I feared the worst.”
“There is no need,” Wynn assured her. “Though it appears there soon may be reason enough for all of us to worry.”
Bria’s brow wrinkled.
Wynn briefly explained what the messenger had reported, speaking of the strange symbols appearing beyond the Morvane lands and Lord Oaken’s belief that the clan no longer remained hidden in the deepest reaches of Driochmor.
Bria’s expression grew solemn and she felt a slight catch in her chest, recalling Wynn telling her that a piece of a necklace she’d come by was from the Morvan Clan and it now was with Adira. The piece she had fit into the piece Adira possessed perfectly.
Did she tell the king?
She looked to Wynn and her great-grandmother ever so slightly shook her head. She knew what Bria was thinking, having confided in her, and advised her against saying anything.
Instead, Bria said, “Then I will return to Driochmor with you.”
Kaelan was quick to add, “And I shall see that they arrive safely.”
“Nay,” Dravic snapped.
The single word settled over the chamber like a drawn blade.
Kaelan’s jaw tightened, though he remained silent.
Dravic stepped away from the council table and slowly approached him. “Dar and Elara know Driochmor and Lord Oaken well. They will escort Wynn.” He looked briefly to Bria. “If she wishes to accompany Wynn, she has my leave to do so.” His gaze returned to Kaelan. “You remain in Caerith.”
“Nay.” The refusal came calmly and without hesitation.
Tavish looked from Kaelan to the king. Neither yielded an inch.
“You forget yourself,” Dravic warned.
“I forget nothing.” Kaelan stood as immovable as the mountains of Northland, his homeland. “I came to Caerith to protect my wife. That purpose has not changed.”
“Nor has mine,” Dravic said, sounding like a strong reprimand. “I am king. I decide what best serves this kingdom.”
“And I decide what best serves my wife,” Kaelan countered sharply.
The air in the chamber grew taut.
Bria felt it before anyone else. A faint warmth spread beneath her hand where it rested against Kaelan’s arm. She looked up. A subtle golden glow flickered deep within his eyes.
“Kaelan,” she said softly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
He did not take his eyes away from Dravic.
“No king’s command,” Kaelan said, his voice low and unwavering, “will separate me from my wife.”
Silence followed.
Even Tavish wisely held his tongue.
From her place near the hearth, Adira watched the exchange with growing concern. She did not know the words being spoken, but she knew anger when she saw it. The rigid set of shoulders, the narrowed eyes, the unspoken challenge between the two men needed no voice.