Grasping the handles, I yanked open the doors. “It doesn’t.”
“So, where are you going, then?”
I stalked out into the hall. “I’m going to gopush.”
Chapter 11
As I climbed the stairs of the Rise, the stars sweeping across the deep gray sky twinkled like a sea of gems, signaling that night wasn’t too far away.
“This is such a bad idea,” Saion muttered from behind me for the hundredth time. “A terrible, horrible idea. If something happens to you—”
“Nothing will happen.” I reached the top of the Rise and crossed the battlement, passing several shadowstone-tipped spears and arrows beside bows stacked against the wall as I made sure I stayed hidden behind the parapet’s solid wall.
“And that just ups the whole terrible, horrible idea part,” Saion commented as I picked up a bow and a full quiver.
“Just in case,” I told him, leaning against the shadowstone wall. I peered out the opening, finding Nyktos first without even trying to look for him. I suspected it was the ember that’d once belonged to him. It knew exactly where he was.
Which meant it was highly likely that he was aware of my presence, as well. And it was also probable that he would be really angry.
Deciding I’d deal with that later, I quietly pulled an arrow from the quiver.
Nyktos stood in the front, arms crossed and looking every inch a Primal—a bored one, at that, based on the bland set of his features. A dozen or so guards stood behind him, and I had no idea if they were mortal, godling, or god, but I spotted Ector standing with Rhain.
The ones who stood a few yards from Nyktos wore black balaclavas, leaving only their eyes visible. Sheaths of armor covered their bodies from their chests to their knees.
I squinted. “Is their armor made of…shadowstone?”
“It is.” Saion crouched behind the other parapet.
“A ripple of power was felt throughout all the Courts,” one of the Cimmerian warriors said. He stood in the front, hand resting on the hilt of a sword.
“Shit,” Saion growled. “That’s Dorcan. He’s really old,” he added when I glanced at him. “And not someone most want to cross on a battlefield.”
I didn’t know if I should be relieved or not to hear that the Cimmerian weren’t here for me.
“Hanan knows the dakkais followed an earlier trace of power to the Shadowlands,” Dorcan said.
“Is that so?” Nyktos replied.
“Are you suggesting that you were somehow unaware of the surge of power?” Dorcan asked.
“I haven’t suggested anything.”
There was a rough, quick laugh from behind the balaclava. “Is the goddess Bele here?” he asked, and I caught the slight movement of a Cimmerian behind him. One of the warriors had slipped a glove to the dagger strapped to their waist.
“Hell.” Saion had seen the movement, too. He quietly withdrew his sword. “If they start fighting, I will join them.”
I nodded, keeping my attention on the Cimmerian. There were a hundred warriors to our significantly outnumbered fighters. We had Nyktos, but if he couldn’t use eather—
Ourfighters.
Ourpeople.
My stomach twisted sharply, but my fingers remained steady on the arrow. “Why isn’t Nektas out here?”
“None of the draken will come unless they sense it’s necessary,” Saion explained.
“This isn’t necessary?”