Savage Wild Gods (The Savage Wilds Book 3) by Sean Fletcher

Author:Sean Fletcher [Fletcher, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Epic Worlds Publishing
Published: 2024-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Rune had made a room in the palace especially for me, a spacious once-apartment now repurposed in green. A bed of soft willow bark took one corner. In another corner was a small garden of dahlia, bleeding heart, honeysuckle, and stone crop, their collective scent easing the thumping ache in my head.

Grislehaut’s intrusion into my mind had left a bitter residue. I’d cleaned off in the room’s spring, combed my hair so hard my scalp was left angry. I stared at the garden of flowers and tried not to think too hard about Rune growing these especially for me; if he’d done it anywhere else; if he hadn’t, what did that mean; and what did I want that to mean, and⁠—

Something tapped at the open window.

A raven with feathers black as pitch sat on the iron-wrought railing of the balcony. It clacked its beak together, regarding me with its gold-red eyes.

I straightened, hand drifting toward my forearm. The Undersea had proven that no defense was impenetrable and there were many ways to try to kill someone.

“Is there something you want?” I asked.

The raven cocked its head. It opened its beak and a man’s voice came out, clear as though he were standing in front of me.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Empress of Glass. And now I must request that we meet in person.”

Whomever had sent this might be watching me through the raven’s eyes, as Raquel the beastmaster could do. I kept a neutral expression.

“Who are you, and why would I want to do that?”

“Who we are to each other remains to be seen. I had a number of names, but now I’m merely the General of the Last Survivors.”

Using a raven meant it was highly unlikely they were from the Undersea, and if it was King Bendeti’s successor, then most likely she’d have used a far grander form of communication. Perhaps this was another Lord like Tannis and Sulien, vying for control of their small piece of the Wilds.

“We must meet,” the general repeated. “Follow the raven. Tell no one. Come alone.”

“If I was laying a trap, that’s exactly what I’d say,” I answered.

The raven let out a gurgling croak. “Though we are just outside the border of the High King’s Wilds, I’m sure, should something happen, he’d know. Though, to hear the Empress of Glass unnerved doesn’t seem fitting from what we’ve heard about her.”

“You won’t goad me, in case you were wondering.”

“Follow the raven,” the raven repeated and took off.

The last time I’d foolheartedly gone to meet with someone unknown it had led me to Mother Mal. Whether that was good or not was up for debate. Still, my run-in with Grislehaut had opened a new yearning for solutions. I could at the very least see what this other general wanted.

Or, of course, I could be walking into a trap.

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