The road from Hallowfen cut through rolling hills, the grass bending under the push of a cool northern wind. The further they travelled, the fewer signs of life appeared only the occasional shepherd in the distance, and flocks of crows following their path as if drawn to Kaelreth's shadow.
Seraphira rode beside him, the rhythm of the horse's gait steady beneath her. She'd been silent since leaving the town, but curiosity finally won over restraint. What did you learn back there?
Kaelreth didn't look at her when he answered. The mortal king's court is not as closed as we thought. There are visitors cloaked, foreign, slipping in through the northern pass.
Visitors? she pressed. What kind?
The kind who do not belong to this realm. His tone was clipped, as if the words themselves were distasteful. One was described as having silver eyes. Another… wore the crest of the Ashspire Coven.
Seraphira felt her chest tighten. Witches. In the mortal court?
Kaelreth's gaze finally slid to hers, sharp as a blade. Not just any witches. The Ashspire are bound by oath to the Demon Realm. They wouldn't move without reason.
The air seemed colder. She shifted in the saddle, her mind racing. So the mortal king is aligning himself with powers beyond his reach?
Or, Kaelreth said, he is being played.
They rode on, the sky darkening as heavy clouds gathered above. By the time they stopped for rest in the shelter of a half-collapsed stone watchtower, the air hummed with the threat of rain.
Kaelreth dismounted first, offering her a hand down. She hesitated before taking it not because she didn't trust him, but because every touch carried a weight she couldn't yet name.
Inside the ruined tower, he struck a small flame with a flick of his fingers, the shadows recoiling from the light. The meeting is set to take place three nights from now, in the old keep at Blackvale. I intend for us to be there.
And if the king himself is present? she asked.
Kaelreth's mouth curved in a way that was neither smile nor threat. Then we will speak with him.
A shiver ran down her spine, though not from the cold. You mean confront him.
If necessary.
The fire crackled between them, its glow painting his features in shades of gold and shadow. For a moment, she saw past the Devil King's armor not weakness, but something deeper, something unyielding. He wasn't moving pieces on a board for sport; there was purpose behind every step.
She wrapped her cloak tighter around her. Then we'll need to be ready. If witches are involved, there will be traps.
Kaelreth nodded once, his gaze holding hers. That is why I brought you.
The words lodged in her chest, a strange blend of warning and trust.
Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall, hissing softly against the stones.