The Drakhyn were frozen in attack, their talons outstretched, their mouths open, displaying their vicious fangs. Tegan had never seen anything like it, and she was loath to take her eyes off of them.
“Come to me, or I destroy it all.”
Tegan and Marcus both jumped when the Drakhyn turned to ash in front of them, and both looked around wildly, but the voice was gone.
Tegan dropped her swords, and she bent over, her hands on her knees, her head racing. “Marcus?” she gasped as fear enveloped her.
“I don’t know, child, we need to move. We need your Castor.”
“We need more than Cord, we need the Ancients.”
Marcus grunted as he quickly picked up Tegan’s backpack. “Well, they sent us the Mark of Velvore, we need to pray he is enough,” he said gruffly. “I don’t know how to fight this,whateverthis was.”
Tegan took her backpack as she nudged a pile of ash. “I don’t know how…”
“We need to make haste, we can worry about thehows andwhys when we are safe.”
Together, the two of them started running over the clearing, into the woods, through the trees, speed in their run, fear in their hearts.
A solitary figure stood on the edge of the clearing, watching them as they ran like frightened rabbits into the trees. The brightness of the moon did not affect his eyes, he had long since had no need for protective eyewear to shield from such sensitivities. He was strong. Long talons almost trailed the forest floor as he watched his tiger flee. Turning, he walked back the way he had come, the moonlight catching the gleam of his fangs as he smiled.
Soon, she would be his, and this world would bow under the fury he unleashed upon it.
For now, she could flee, he would catch her, and it would be as promised. She would be his.
With a whispered spell, he vanished into the night.
“And you are absolutely sure about this?” Salem asked Lucas as the Dark Prime stood in front of him. “You have no proof,” Salem reminded again.
“I know,” Lucas agreed as he rubbed his hand over his face wearily. “Trust me, Garrick and I both tried to talk Cord out of his belief of the same, and then we looked at it from every angle and realised, again, that Cord knows his stepfather better than any of us.”
“I sent Tegan and Marcus to the Ivanov House.” Salem’s voice was heated, his glare sharp.
“And as I said when you told me, this works in our favour. Marcus is probably the best Akrhyn to send into this situation.”
“If Cornelius really is behind the Council Elder’s disappearance and you think he is working with the Drakhyn”—Salem took a deep breath as the very thought of that sentence nauseated him—“then tell me why I shouldn’t be alerting the Great Council and more importantlyremovingmy daughter and my Second from his House.”
“Because it fills with me deep regret to say that we do not knowwhohe is working with,” Lucas answered gravely. “He has the ear of some of the Council Elders, and I don’t know at this time if it is just their ear he has or their support. To inform them could be to alert them, and we cannot show our hand until he has shown his. But we can prepare, Principal Elder. Wemustprepare.”
“I’ve been preparing,” Salem told him. “Tegan’s training has been exemplary, which we would expect given Leonid taught her. Michael is just as good, and I do not say that with fatherly pride but as an Akrhyn taught by Leonid, my son is almost as good as his sister.”
“You are the Forger,” Lucas said softly. “The Blade and the Stone shall be honed by you. Do we know which one is which?”
“No.” Salem shook his head in frustration. “The Sisters won’t answer that question no matter how many times I have asked.”
“Maybe they don’t know?” Lucas speculated as he crossed the floor of the study and looked out over the grounds. He watched the Sentinels patrol the perimeter. “It’s a prophecy, they’re never clear nor what they seem.”
“I know, but it specifies each of us. Cord knew Leonid was the Father, I mean, the Father could have been me, it makes sense for it to beme, but I am the Forger.”
“Says who?” Lucas turned from the window and regarded Salem questioningly. “We are going on the word of a young Castor. How do we know he has interpreted the words correctly?”
“You think Cord got it wrong?” Salem asked as he resumed his seat behind his desk.
“I don’t know. The Alpha is obvious. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to be named in a prophecy. If anything, I thought it would be Garrick, but I received the vision of the Mark being given to Cord.” Lucas rubbed his face again. “He was never meant to be Crimson, I know that,everyoneknows that. Every choice he makes is Dark Cast. He plays silly games because he can.”
“You think he manipulated the result of his Trial?”
“No, I genuinely think the Ancients don’t know what to do with him either,” Lucas answered ruefully.