A Dragon of Black Glass by James Rollins

Author:James Rollins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

48

KANTHE SAT NEXT to Aalia. Once again, her chair stood taller than his. But at least they weren’t in the throne room.

Not that this chamber is any less taxing.

He stared across the strategy room atop the Blood’d Tower. Around its massive table, inscribed with a map of the Southern Klashe, the leaders of Sail, Wing, and Shield gathered with underlings and aides. They continued an endless discussion of plans, problems, disputes, objectives, exercises, maneuvers, and every niggling detail that constituted bringing an empire to war.

To the side, Garryn and Perash stood before a curve of the wall, where a map of the seas between the Southern Klashe and Hálendii was dotted with a slew of their respective forces. Tiny wings, carved of silver, had been pinned in place. Mixed among them, in some confounding tactic, were scores of gold sails, marking the imperial fleet. The two men continually shifted those pins and argued.

To Kanthe’s other side, Aalia had her head bent between Tazar and Shield Jojan. The trio debated how best to secure Kysalimri with their ground forces.

Kanthe shifted in his seat, trying to break the two stones that his buttocks had hardened into. Six bells had rung as this meeting dragged on. He was not entirely sure why he needed to be here, which also seemed to be the general consensus. He had tried to offer input, but such efforts were met with rolled eyes, hard frowns, and placating nods, or were simply ignored.

To this lot, I’m no more than a nattering jester, one with a silver circlet atop his head.

Then again, he had never been trained in the Legionary. He had not been battle-hardened like so many others. He had certainly not waged a rebellion like Tazar.

Still, despite all of that, he had reached one firm conclusion while eavesdropping. He stared across the table, listening to those arguing around him. It was plainly evident to anyone looking from afar.

We’re nowhere close to being ready to wage an assault on Azantiia.

Even worse, time grew ever tighter.

Two weeks had passed since Mareesh had been ambushed. The flood damage continued to be repaired. A visit to Tykhan’s worksite revealed that the ta’wyn was behind schedule with his project. Tykhan had set a target date, now only two weeks off, after which their chances of success would plummet with every passing day.

The reason behind that worried them all.

Eligor was surely growing stronger. Spies had already sent word of a surge of activity around Highmount, of whispers of a new weapon rising from the depths of the Shrivenkeep.

No one doubted what that was.

As Kanthe shifted in his seat again—not because of his bruised arse, but out of a growing anxiety—the doors to the chamber burst open.

Rami and Frell rushed inside, bringing with them a cloaked and hooded stranger.

“You must hear this!” Rami shouted out.

Aalia stood, facing the sudden intrusion. “What’s wrong? Who is this?”

The stranger shoved back his hood, revealing a familiar, if worrisome, countenance. His presence, especially so rushed, did not bode well.

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