* * *
—
As Dar Leah departed, dawn was beginning to brighten the edges of the eastern horizon from behind the jagged peaks of the Dragon’s Teeth, and Ajin d’Amphere was standing watch over Kol’Dre and the five other surviving soldiers from the one hundred who had gone into the Keep. She had ordered them to move north from the battleground and deep into the woods where they would be hidden from view before she’d let them sleep. When they woke, she would dispatch the strongest of them to find the aquaswift they had flown in on and bring it back. It was much farther away than she would have liked, kept well away from Druid eyes on their arrival so there was no chance of it being seen.
For now, they all needed rest. But for her, sleep would not come, so she had risen and gone off to sit by herself.
Her thoughts should have been full of what to do next, with virtually the whole of the attack force she had brought to Paranor destroyed, but instead all she could think of was Dar Leah. She was well and truly smitten. She would not deny it—could not, in point of fact, do so honestly. She was attracted to him as she had not been attracted to another man. Ever. She had experienced her share of crushes and lovers, but they had come and gone, leaving virtually no impression. Yet in their three brief encounters, Dar had imprinted himself on her heart—despite the inescapable truth that they were more enemies than friends. It was stranger than strange, but it was exciting, too.
Dar Leah was everything she admired in a man, and she intended to have him, one way or another.
She was not so foolish as to think she could make this happen now. There were too many uncertainties and unexpected turns waiting ahead, and no amount of preparation would ever be sufficient. At the end of the day, she and Dar Leah were on opposite sides of a conflict that threatened to engulf the whole of the Four Lands. Time and circumstance would have to change that, but she was fully convinced it could happen. This was the nature of fate. She just had to be patient. She had to trust that she would be given her chances and that when she was, she would respond in the best way possible.
But whatever future there was for the Blade and herself, it waited somewhere down the road, and for now she had other concerns she must deal with. With the Druids dead and Paranor lost, she needed to redefine her goals for the Four Lands. The size of her original command of one thousand soldiers was reduced, but still sufficient for her to act.
Nevertheless, the first thing she had to do upon rejoining those she had left behind in the primary camp farther north was to convince them, down to the last soldier, that what had happened to the others not only had not been her fault but also had not been preventable. If they believed she had acted recklessly in attacking Paranor directly, she would lose control of her soldiers. She would lose their trust and their belief in her.
And that would be the end of everything.
She would return home in disgrace—a failure her quick-to-judge father might well use to determine she was both useless and expendable.
But her thoughts of such possibilities quickly faded as Kol’Dre joined her moments later, coming up silently and sitting beside her without speaking. Because she was used to having him close at hand and ready to offer advice in situations where she would never have suffered the presence of others, she let him stay.
Long minutes passed in silence, then she looked over at him and waited until he was looking back. “You needn’t sit with me, Kol’Dre,” she said. “I am well enough by myself.”
His smile was wan. “I will leave if you wish, Princess.”
She shook her head. “I don’t wish it. You are welcome to stay. But you must call me by my given name. We are alone now.”
“As you wish, Ajin.”
His face was comforting in its familiarity. Calm and introspective, a reassurance. She had thought now and again about accepting him as more than her Penetrator and sometime confidant. She could hardly avoid it, given their proximity during their travels. But she could never quite make herself believe this was a good idea. She sensed that if she took that extra step, it would change their relationship, and she didn’t want that. Besides, she valued him for his advice and his loyalty, not for his potential as a bedmate. However he saw things, she did not see a future between them that would allow for more.
“We’ve lost everything,” she said after a few further moments of silence. “Paranor, its magic, the Druids, and our ability to use it all to bargain with. We’ve let it slip through our fingers by being inattentive and complacent. I should have done more to secure it. I should have been better prepared for a punitive response.”
Kol’Dre shook his head. “What could you have done? How could you have foretold any of it? There was no way to prepare for what happened—no way to stop that thing from coming out and destroying us. We were helpless against it.”
“That is a poor excuse. I am to blame. I overreached.”
“It could be argued that way,” he agreed. “But those who do not dare do not achieve. You took a chance, and you almost succeeded. Your father will be proud of you.”
She snorted. “My father will skin me alive.”
“You destroyed the entire Druid order, Ajin!” He was leaning close, his face intense. “You eliminated the single most dangerous threat to our success in claiming these lands. No one else has the strength or means to stand against us, and I should know. I’ve spent two years among these people. With the Druids gone, there is no other power that can prevent us from taking what we want—not even the Elves. And the Four Lands are too divided to unite as they should.”
She felt herself go calm. He was right, of course. She had done what he claimed, and half a loaf was always better than none. She only needed to find a way to reimagine a Skaar victory in the aftermath of these events. She only needed to find a new path for achieving what her people expected.
“You have to let go of your guilt,” Kol added a moment later.
She smiled. It would surprise you, Kol’Dre, to know what else I probably have to let go of, she thought. But that information is for me alone.
“I know,” she said instead.
He heard something in the tone of her voice and lowered his gaze deferentially, as if he knew he had overstepped. She fought back a surge of satisfaction. “Come now. We have more pressing concerns to occupy our attention.”
“Do you have a plan for addressing those concerns?” he asked.
She gave him a brief nod. “I’m working on it.”
* * *
—
They said nothing to each other for a time afterward. Kol’Dre wanted to pursue the matter, but he knew it was better to just let her be. She was looking off into the morning, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. He had noticed it before when he came over to sit with her. She didn’t look particularly troubled by whatever was drawing her attention. Rather, she looked almost pensive. An air of calm infused her countenance, defined her posture, and layered her gestures. She might be displeased with other things—the loss of Paranor, the deaths of almost one hundred of her best soldiers—but something besides these seemingly pressing concerns was preoccupying her.