Queen of Embers

XXXIII. Together

"You granted me my life once, Sorne Thayer," Duke Imanol Garaia said once he met them at the gates that stood open. The nobleman's eyes were serious and his bearing uneasy. "I have not forgotten it."

Sorne looked around. Soule's streets were quiet, but not empty. People crowded to the sides and the rooftops, aiming to see for themselves the warrior queen who held the north. Expectation buzzed in the air in the form of muted conversations. There was power here too, magic that Sorne could feel in the distance. Suddenly, she was viscerally aware of Aldana's presence. The divinities within them both could be felt, stirring through the threads of existence.

"Are your men here to fight us?" Sorne asked.

"No. They are here to guard and watch," Garaia said. "Follow me and I will take you to the King. He is most eager to speak with you, so this matter can be settled."

"Very well," Sorne said quietly.

"This is a trap," Terese hissed. "The moment you pass through those palace doors, you will be utterly at his mercy."

Sorne rolled her shoulders, loosening them for the battle to come. "This is no longer a matter of armies and nobles," she said with unflinching certainty. She turned to the others. "Katalin, you are in command until we return. Zhou, Vridash, stay with her. If something goes wrong, you will be needed here."

The orc frowned. "I'm going with you, Sorne."

"No, you're not," Sorne said. She sighed. "Where I'm going, you can't follow. Besides, Katalin needs your protection more right now than I do."

The orc ground his teeth for a moment before looking at Vipsania, but he seemed to understand at the same time. "What about you, Not-Kith?"

Vipsania touched a hand to Sorne's shield at her side. "I know my place," the western woman said.

Vridash's shoulders sagged slightly and he pulled Sorne into a tight hug. "Be careful, little sister. I want to see you safe and happy on the other side of this."

Sorne squeezed him back. "Whatever happens, however this ends, give everyone my love. Thank you for everything, brother." After a moment, she slipped from his grip and looked over at Alesander and Vipsania. "Let's go."

The walk following Garaia was silent as a prayer. Sorne found comfort only in the brush of Vipsania's arm against hers, even cold and armored. The western woman was walking close, her eyes searching the crowd for threats as they passed beneath the banners of the white wolf on crimson. Every now and then, Sorne would look over and catch Vipsania's gaze to offer the soldier a smile.

Nessa, can you hear me? Sorne asked in her own thoughts as she started and wove three chants together. Badar, Khashin, and Unshiir all locked perfectly into place.

A familiar cold seeped out into her limbs. I can. Have a care, Sorne. We are almost to the end.

Sorne climbed the steps to the palace without hesitation, showing no sign of the trepidation in Alesander. Vipsania was stony-faced at her side, prepared to meet oblivion.

The main hall was clear except for the edges, nobles and courtiers lining the walls to watch. Aldana rose from his throne, every bit the man Sorne had seen in her dream. He was tall and proud, but no longer wearing the eyepatch she had seen. Instead, his hollow socket, scarred from her blade, was bared to the room. He seemed to feel no need for armor, but Sorne was certain he had magic at his command that would turn her blade.

A familiar elven man stood beside him, smiling faintly. It was an expression that would have given her pause if she were not carefully tending the coals of her rage.