My mind spins as my heart lurches into my throat. I stare at the map, at the thin line of the border that remains uncrossed by what appears to be an undefeatable legion of the enemy, and a thought so terrifying I can barely reach for it begins to take hold. “How old is this information?”
“I’m sorry?” Devera’s brows rise.
“How long have they been sitting on the border?” I clarify, my nails biting into the palms of my hands as I tighten my fists, pushing down the fear threatening to consume me.
She glances at Brennan, who replies, “They’ve been there for three days. This morning’s report confirms they haven’t moved.”
Oh gods.
“We act now.” Tairn’s voice rumbles through my head.
I stuff everything into my bag as Devera calls on another rider to answer a question.
“What are you doing?” Rhi asks in a whisper, and I notice almost every member of my squad has turned to watch.
“I need to find Xaden.” I sling my pack over my shoulders and slip my arms through the straps, preparing to stand. “It’s not Samara.”
“All right.” Rhiannon puts her things away, and the rest of the squad follows her lead. “We’re coming with you.”
There’s no time to argue, so I nod and we all file out, earning us a few shouted protests from Devera, but the sound only blurs into the roaring in my ears as my thoughts spin faster and faster.
The hallway is relatively empty, since every cadet is at Battle Brief, making for a quick exit from the western wing of the house.
“Where are you?” I ask down the bond.
“In a strategy meeting in the Assembly chamber,” Xaden answers. “Why?”
“I’m headed your way. I need you.” We pass the doors to the history classroom and then the great hall.
“Is anyone going to tell us why we just walked out of Battle Brief?” Cat asks, a few steps behind me.
“Violet has a look in her eyes,” Rhiannon explains, keeping up at my side.
“The same one she had before the Squad Battle last year,” Sawyer says.
“She’s onto something, and from our experience, you just roll with it,” Rhiannon finishes.
Xaden walks out of the Assembly chamber and heads straight for me, meeting us in the middle of the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not Samara we have to worry about.”
“Why?” He keeps his eyes on me despite the shuffling of my squadmates.
“Because they’re sitting there waiting,” I explain. “They’ve been waiting for three days. Why?”
“If I knew their thought process, this war would be over,” he replies.
“Melgren says they’re overrun on solstice. That’s the day after tomorrow.” Gods, we’re going to have to move quickly.
He nods.
“Wyvern aren’t going to take down the wards at Samara. They can’t fly past them. Plus, smaller hordes were moved along the full border. I think Samara is just a distraction. I think they’re waiting for them all to fall.”
His eyes flare for a heartbeat.
“The battle can’t take place somewhere else,” Sawyer argues. “Melgren would see it.”
“Not if we’re there,” Sloane counters. “Melgren can’t see the outcome if three of us are there, remember?” She holds up her forearm, where her relic winds above the edge of her sleeve.
“Exactly.” My fingernails bite into my palms. “He can’t see the real fight if we’re there. He has all his forces concentrating on Samara, when they should be—”
“At Basgiath,” Xaden finishes my thought, his eyes searching mine. “The Vale.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go back?” he asks.
“Of course we do,” Ridoc answers.
“I wasn’t asking you.” Xaden holds my gaze. “Do you want to go?”
Do I? Navarre has lied to their people—lied to us—for six hundred years.
“They would never come to our aid,” Sloane says.
“They’ve definitely never come to ours,” Cat agrees.
They’ve let Poromish civilians die time and again, safely tucked behind their wards, pulling the blindfold over Navarrian citizens’ lives.
