Page 114 of The Last Syphon

Lord Howling stood with an angry huff. Inara stepped forward, calling forth her power, an axe appearing in both hands. Fraener, perched securely on shoulder, fanned out his wings, growling viciously. Lord Howling’s guards summoned their own magic in response, and they stared her down.

The representative of Pregon didn’t even notice what was unfolding, his angry gaze locked on Prince Walder. “Where is the king, anyway? You bring us here under false pretences, talking about a city long since dead. And for what? What do you expect us to do with this information? I doubt there is any truth to it anyway.”

Inara studied the man. His stance. The sweat dripping from his brow. The slight quiver of his lip. His eyes…swallowed in fear.

“If you don’t believe him, then why are you so scared?” she asked.

Lord Howling jolted, his gaze snapping to her. She might as well have been invisible up until that point. The man had completely forgotten she was in the room.

“I am not scared,” he said roughly. “I have nothing to be scared of. This is simply another Arelian tactic to draw us out of our kingdom and destroy us, like they’ve been trying to do for 1,000 years.”

“This has nothing to do with past slights, Lord Howling,” Prince Walder said calmly.

“It has everything to do with it!” He stepped forward but stopped when Inara raised her axes. “You have been trying to draw us out of the safety of Pregon since long before the Dark War. And what? You think some mysterious so-called threat will be the thing to do it?” His erratic gaze whipped around the room. “That’s what you want, is it not? For Pregon to render aid? Roylan too?”

Lady Armanie had remained eerily calm during the whole ordeal, simply sitting still and listening.

Lord Howling shook his head aggressively. “Your tactic will not work,” he hissed. “You will not conquer us this way.” He spun on his heels and began to walk away.

Prince Walder stood, a pulse of terrifying power exploding out of him, causing the lights to flicker. “Lord Howling,” he called out coldly.

Shivers danced down Inara’s spine. Holy Fates. He had so much power.

You should take it, the Dark Voice taunted.

Inara shut it down instantly.

Lord Howling halted. He did not turn, staying facing the door, but Inara saw his hand tremble.

“You can choose whether to believe me or not. It does not change the fact that the cursed land is spreading, and it is killing everything in its path. Send your own scouts, if you do not wish to take my word for it, but understand this is happening. All our efforts to stop it thus far have done nothing. It will eventually consume the Borderlands and all the souls who inhabit it. Do you think it will simply stop there? No. It will continue on until it has consumed the entire realm. Of that, I am sure. We must put our differences aside and come together to not only figure out what is happening, but how to stop it.”

Lord Howling’s hand clenched into a tight fist. He flung the door open and stomped out, his two guards hot on his heels.

Clearing her throat, Lady Armanie stood, running her hands down her front. “I will talk with my king.” She bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Enjoy the rest of the ball,” Prince Walder returned, inclining his head.

“I think this conversation has made that impossible, but thank you nonetheless.”

The moment she and her guard left, Inara’s composure cracked. “What the fuck is going on?” she hissed, finally stepping out from behind the Crowned Prince. Her steps faltered when she saw his face. Lines of frustration marred his skin. His eyes, usually a deep, mesmerising purple and full of life, were now dulled with exhaustion.

“The rot is spreading?” she asked, needing to hear it again to truly believe it.

He collapsed back into his chair. “Yes.” His hand reached out, and Tydus nudged his head into the prince’s palm, offering comfort.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Years.”

Inara couldn’t believe it. How could I not have known about this? Of course, she’d heard the rumours, like everyone else, that the villages closest to the border of Tolanaa were dangerous. Filled with unexplainable phenomena. But surely, knowledge of the black, rotting land of the Dead Kingdom spreading, moving into the Borderlands would be knowledge she would have. Wouldn’t it?

“It was small, at first. Barely recognisable. Most wouldn’t have noticed it at all,” he began, as if reading her mind. Prince Walder stared off into space, not looking at anything specific and yet, being lost in whatever it was he saw. “It was pure luck that we did. We send scouts to patrol the border of Tolanaa every few years to monitor the rot and ensure it never strays from the borderline. It is something we have done since the Dark War first began, to safeguard the realm. The last report two years ago indicated a clear advancement, pushing into the Borderlands.” His face turned grim. “There were several villages close to the border.”

“Blackpeak, Holen, and Prector.” Inara nodded. She knew them. Everyone in the Borderlands did. They were the three villages no one ever travelled to. From what she knew, even the travelling merchants never ventured there. A lot of the raiders who plagued the Borderlands originated from those three villages. They were known to rape and kill anyone who dared set foot in their territory, and not usually in that order. A lot of people believed that living so close to the Dead Kingdom drove them mad. Turned them from men into beasts.

“They are no more.”

Those four words made Inara’s heart stop dead in her chest. Fraener sensed her unease and sent a wave of comfort down their soul-link. This time, it didn’t help. “What do you mean?”