Page 93 of ColdIron
“I’m sorry, sir,” Captain Carroway said tightly. “We were down on manpower. The garrison soldiers tried to hold the line, but the demons were too powerful. We lost twenty-one soldiers.” She paused. Grief flashed across her face. Then she steeled her voice. “The demons razed two villages, then took off after your train. We were delayed helping the surviving civilians.”
“Twenty-one,” Aelindor said quietly. He let the number sit. “What else?”
“Most villagers reached underground shelters when the outposts sounded the warning bells.” She glanced toward the DarkVeil. “If their objective hadn’t been the train, they’d have done more damage. I don’t think they came to occupy, though.” She met Aelindor’s eyes. “It’s fortunate Captain Holt’s intelligence reached Your Highnesses in time, sir. If more hostiles emerge from the Veil,we’ll lose the eastern corridor without Spartan reinforcement.”
We looked down the empty track. The train had pressed eastward toward the border outpost, two or three miles out. The Spartans who’d disembarked during the chase now filed into the military bus heading in the same direction.
“Something’s shifted,” Caspian said, gesturing at the DarkVeil. “We just don’t know what.”
“Someone’s directing them. And I’ll get to the bottom of it.” Drakken’s jaw set like a steel trap.
He loved saying that, didn’t he? He’d vowed to get to the bottom of who I was in that interrogation room, back when I still wore my stinky miner’s uniform, coated in blood and dirt. He’d tried sleep deprivation to weaken my defenses.
As if he could read my thoughts, he flicked a quick glance at me. I stood still beside Aelindor, face blank, eyes forward. Looking at no one. Everyone here outranked me by a mile anyway.
“One more thing, sirs.” Captain Carroway’s posture tensed. “A linguist with First Response overheard the demons’ communications before the settlement fell. They were searching for a lost heir. One who surfaced recently, they said. If accurate, this suggests one of Your Highnesses was the primary target. The demons reached your train by design, not chance.”
Dogshit.This better have nothing to do with the creature in me.
Aelindor’s cool manner didn’t change. His face remained unreadable. But a dangerous suspicionflitted through those blue eyes, faster than a mortal eye could follow. I caught it. His gaze cut to me. Half a second. Then away.
“The demons we fought said something guttural,” Caspian said, hitting his fist against his palm. “We need to round up every demonologist and anyone who understands the fucking demonic tongue. We need to know the shit they’re saying.”
I held myself still and tried not to look relieved. They’d heard the demons talk to me, but they had no idea what was said. I was safe for now. But for how long?
My palms were slick, but I stopped myself from wiping the cold sweat on my thighs.
“Bring that linguist to the outpost for debriefing,” Drakken ordered.
“I’m sorry, that isn’t possible, Highness.” Captain Carroway exhaled. “He didn’t make it. He succumbed to his wounds shortly after he shared partial intel.”
Captain Carroway’scolumn rode escort beside our jeep. She’d surrendered one of her vehicles for the heirs. Frost went with the escort.
Aelindor wanted me in the jeep with the heirs. Captain Carroway’s eyes lingered on me when I climbed in beside the Fae prince, but she held her tongue. No one dared question Aelindor.
Drakken beat Caspian to the driver’s seat. The shifter prince growled. But when he saw me settling in the back, he grinned and pivoted to slide in beside me.
“Passenger seat, please, Caspian.” Aelindor didn’t look up. “First line of defense if they hit us again.”
The shifter wasn’t having a good day. He shook his head in distaste but vaulted into the front. The jeep lurched onto the cratered road.
I sat rigid, the Coldiron arrow in my fist, knuckles white against the shaft. My blood still ran hot from the fight. And I knew what was coming—the inevitable questions. They’d watched me catch an arrow bare-handed that would have killed the fastest Spartan. I’d barely finished my first week of training.
False heir now knows about true heir,Coldiron whispered.
Who’s the false heir?I pressed.Who’s the true heir?
Search. Kill. False heir says.
That was all Coldiron could give.
“You disobeyed a direct order, Max.” Aelindor’s voice remained cool, but strain bled through. “You put yourself between me and those arrows. In the line of fire.” Each sentence landed hard. “This will not happen again. I appreciate what you did. But I would have handled them. It’s my responsibility to protect you. Not the other way around.”
“With all due respect, sir, protection isn’t one-way,” I countered. “Yes, I disobeyed, and I’ll take whatever discipline you give me. But I’d do it again. If I hadn’t intercepted those arrows, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” I held his gaze. “You’d be dead, sir.”
The word detonated in the jeep like a grenade. Even Drakken went quiet—no demands, no yelling. Powerfulsupernaturals could sense a lie the way a dog sensed fear. They sensed none in my statement.
“Why do you believe I’d be dead? Explain, please,” Aelindor asked softly.
