Ceasefire
“This is insanity.”
It was the fourth time Eryx had said it in the past ten minutes. As expected, Rhovan snarled at him.
“No one told you to come.”
“I’m second-in-command. Appointed. Unlike some.”
“Commander, permission to punch his face in?”
“Denied.”
Rhovan huffed as she scanned the road leading towards Thornspire. Thornspire would not allow them behind their barrier for a good reason. Hollowfang had a reputation for angling for conquest. Given the fact that Alpha Hollowfang’s late wife’s coven had been wholly absorbed by the clan, the High Matron of Thornspire had every reason to be leery. She had likely sent out a duplicate distress call to Vuldran to ensure they were too busy to think about besieging her city.
“We have company,” she said. “No one is to make any overtures of violence. Do not even speak.”
Eryx hissed. “What are you —”
He broke off, turning further westward toward the sound of marching feet and rolling wheels. Leading a band of four armed men and a pair guiding an empty cart was a mountain of a man who moved with a predator’s grace and precision. Tall, broad, covered in armor splashed in dark liquid, blood, and mud. His hair was long, threaded with crystals bound in ropes that marked him as an accomplished warrior of the Empire and one with immense magical power. A visor covered his face, but his eyes were burning a brilliant, glowing red. He was taller than Kael, maybe a head and a half taller. Kael tightened her grip on her spear, and it hummed with anticipation in her grip.
“Eryx, did you manage the count before we left?”
“I—”
“All accounted for,” Rhovan said. “Three Vuldran acquired. We’re low on bandages from all the wounds, but we’re good on food for at least three weeks.”
Eryx snarled.
“Thank you, Rhovan.”
The leader came to a stop, staring across the distance before lifting his head and turning to look at the cart behind her, where the three Vulcan men were bound and slowly waking up.
“The Black Spear,” a deep male voice carried across the distance. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. Never imagined that we’d meet here… Are those my men?”
“They are.”
The three behind him stiffened as Kael took three steps forward: one for truth, one for fairness, and the last for peace, a call to negotiate in good faith.
Then, she waited.
The man hesitated but soon mirrored the three steps before they both walked toward each other, keeping pace until they came to a stop within a few feet of one another. The air stirred and sparkled against her skin, teeming with power. Her armor absorbed it greedily, replenishing its stores and slowly repairing itself. Whoever this man was, he was a powerful shifter, likely with witch blood.
“If my men were harmed through any actions on your part, I will slaughter your camp.” He paused. “Then, I will raze your capital.”
“You would have to find my camp first.”
He lowered his voice to a menacing rumble. “Is that a challenge?”
“It is a statement of fact. I am not my forebearer.”
He huffed a short laugh. “I suppose not. That spineless coward would never dare to negotiate with me, so… what do you want in return for my men?”
“Not in return for.”
She lifted her hand, gesturing behind her. The cart rolled towards them. He looked back at the cart and then at her as the cart came to a stop, and their bonds fell apart, setting them free.
“They will need rest and bandage changes, but they are otherwise unharmed and treated.”
He hesitated, then gestured stiffly. One of the men came forward to check them over before guiding them back towards where the Vuldran cart awaited. The young man she saved was the only one able to walk on his own. He looked back at her with wide, bewildered eyes.
“T-Thank you,” he whispered.
She nodded at him before looking back at the lead warrior.
A low rumble escaped him. “Vuldra will never owe Hollowfang—”
“Not Hollowfang. Me.”
He tilted his head, considering her. “And what is it that you want, Black Spear?”
“Regia flowers.”
He stiffened and hissed. “You expect me to arrange the transport of poison into my enemy’s hands?”
“Regium is made from regia, yes, but so is Thalan Elixir.”
It was also a key ingredient of the purification potion they used, but Thalan Elixir was a more salient potion to shifters as a general health medicine.
He huffed. “I was told that you’re that bastard’s son… I wouldn’t expect you to know that. The rumors must be wrong.”
“Will you provide it? Or would you prefer to deal in gold?”
He hissed. “You’ll have your regia. How much?”
She eyed him. “Three times your weight. One for each man. You strike me as the type to offer yourself in their place if that had been an option.”
He stilled. Silence stretched between them, then he turned his head slightly, seemingly looking at the wound in her shoulder.
He jerked his head in a stiff nod. “Three for their lives and nine for their care with one condition: this regia will not be used to brew poison or any other harmful concoction.” He offered a hand. “And this deal is one sealed in blood.”
“Moonlight,” she countered, offering her hand. “Honor and good faith, and I agree.”
He took her hand roughly. “So it will be.”
A brilliant stream of red light twined around their hands, burning with a roaring heat. The heat caressed her, sliding up her arm and spilling through her in a heady, restorative rush. Kael let her own magic answer in a stream of shimmering gold. His hand twitched around hers as he jolted. He tightened his grip as if he didn’t plan to release her. The golden light danced and slid through the air, disappearing beneath his armor. The light burning in his eyes faded with a soft gasp.
Interesting.
Slowly, the colors melted and swirled before changing into streams of moonlight, twining, twisting, and looping into tight knots before settling beneath their armor. Slowly, Kael withdrew her hand, though his fingers twitched, trailing along her palm as they parted. A nervous shiver rushed through her from the tickling sensation. He clenched his hand at his side and turned.
“Your flowers will be delivered to Thornspire’s High Matron.”
“That is perfect. Thank you.”
She turned to head back to Eryx and Rhovan.
“Why did you save them?” She didn’t turn back. “More importantly, you returned them before I had even agreed…”
“My mother would say that for all of our petty animosities, the Wretched Choir sees us all as food.”
A pang of guilt went through her at the mention of her mother, though the thought was not as painful as it had once been.
“...wise witch.”
She nodded and turned towards where Thornspire’s caravan was coming down the road. “For what it is worth, Hollowfang will be at rest for a time due to the Calling.”
“A ceasefire? How well timed.”
She turned back to look at him. “Hopefully, a lasting one.”