The Soulstoy Inheritance (35 page)

He nodded. “I’ll lend you a few of my regiment leaders. You needn’t mirror our military structure, but I’m sure they can give you invaluable advice.”

I took a step toward him, tilting my head to the side and tracing a finger up his chest. “My wedding present?”

He chuckled, catching my finger. “No, you will get a proper wedding present. Call this a bribe to stay for the wedding itself. Now stop teasing me, or we will never leave this room.”

When we finally managed to drag ourselves to Miriam’s chamber, I found her state to be worse than I had anticipated. She seemed to have aged, her hair lacking its usual luster, sporting grey strands that I had never noticed before. I caught her hand, and she smiled weakly at me.

“Bea? Is that really you?”

I leant closer to her, brushing the strands of hair from her face.

“I’m here,” I assured her. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.” She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Will you be a dear and fetch Cale for me?”

I froze, her touch suddenly feeling cold, and looked to Hazen for help.

“Mother,” he muttered, taking her hand from me. “Cale isn’t here. We told you this yesterday. He’s dead.”

“I see.” Miriam seemed to deflate before my eyes. “I see,” she repeated. “Well, just send for Fenrel then, we must make arrangements for the funeral.”

Pain flashed across Hazen’s face. “He has passed, mother. It’s just us here now.”

She began to weep then, and before long, fell into a fretful sleep. Hazen ushered me from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

“She’s weak.” He sounded apologetic, but I couldn’t find the words to reassure him. “She wasn’t built to withstand everything that has happened.”

I felt the tears welling in my eyes, and quickly slipped my hands around his waist, burying my face in his chest so that he couldn’t see them. His fingers ran in soothing patterns down the length of my back, and we stayed like that until the corridor began to darken. 

“Come,” he finally said, “we must continue.”

Epilogue

We waited on our horses in the middle of what had once existed as the central Renegade camp, a stretch of land the size of Castle Nest, now flattened and cleared to accommodate the heart of the two armies gathered within its belly. The rest of us were scattered throughout the untamed no-mans-land on either side. Hazen was beside me, his eyes hard on the horizon. Ashen was to my left, with Dain and Harbringer flanking him, while I could feel keenly the presence of my commanders, not far behind me. It was their undying support and unending, exhaustive efforts that had finally brought us to where we perched today, on the brink of the war that would decide the fate of the Noveland. Rose had risen through the ranks of Hazen’s army, despite her brother’s half-hearted objections, and now waited beside him. Her hair had been cut and now curled about her ears. Beside her was the new commander of the Black Guard, a position that my father had once boasted.

This man was without the death ability that had earned my father his rank, but he possessed a wicked knowledge of the art of killing, which everyone seemed to be too uneasy to question further. He was young, but burly, every scarred line on his face screamed of the dangerous talents lurking beneath his skin. His eyes softened whenever Rose crossed his path, and I no longer worried about her; I knew that the man would die to protect her, even if he refused to admit it.

“It’s almost time.” Hazen’s voice was low, but it carried in the silence of so many bated breaths. “You need to go back now, Bea.”

My hand flattened against my stomach, against the new life that had just begun to grow within. 

“As my husband commands.” I threw him a mock salute, which had someone behind us covering a laugh with a sudden cough.

I reigned in my horse, but not before I caught the look on his face.

“You’re enjoying this!” I accused.

He wiped the smile off his face, rolling his shoulders. “You accuse wrongly, love. I enjoy seeing you wading into battle more than anyone here, but we have another little warrior to consider now.”

Rose was laughing now, and Ashen appeared to be shaking his head. I patted my stomach, which was barely beginning to show, and whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ll do our fair share from above.”

Even still, I glanced back at Hazen before I was lost in the sea of soldiers, and caught the lingering look he sent me, treasuring it close to my heart as I moved to the middle of our procession and looked up at the monstrous structure we had been building over the course of the last six months. It cut into the skyline, jagged wooden spikes circling the podium at the top, a wooden skeleton supporting the long spiral steps that I knew were within. A muted silver exoskeleton wove—almost interspersed with the wooden structure beneath—to the top. The material had not been easy to work with, but would block any magic used against the tower.

The human-sized cage, which served as the only way to the top of the tower, appeared in front of me, and I pulled the metal grates aside, shutting myself in as the cables groaned and the lift jolted. There were several men and women at the top, all intermediate Force users, as most of the experienced Force fighters were now dead.

“If war is what they want,” I addressed my small, tower-bound contingent, “why not bring it to them?” I grinned at the few answering chuckles. “We are ready.”

The End

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