A Facet for the Gem Read Online Free Page A

make more enemies than you know what to do with.”
    Valdis turned to Ivrild. “Not yet!” he steamed. Then, as he sternly faced Felkoth again, his tone left no room for objection on either side. “Not today.” With reluctant obedience, Ivrild lowered his bow.
    “Charitable, Valdis,” said Felkoth. “A prince assaulting a king. Much too barbaric, even for my taste.”
    “You are not king,” Valdis resounded. “Not of Korindelf, or any other part.”
    “You and my father may be the only ones who share that view,” Felkoth replied, pausing to let Valdis take in his vast forces. “Until tomorrow, at least, when he can finally rest easy in his infirmity, and step down. Then, you may find yourself all alone.”
    Valdis sought any recognizable humanity in Felkoth’s stare, turning away after finding none. “I bid you safe journey to Korindelf,” he said, “and we will gladly return to our own country without loss of man or beast.” He remounted his eagle gracefully, letting the dizzying pain in his old joints remain a well-kept secret. Then he leaned forward to address Felkoth one last time. “We’ll be watching, and you’d do well to keep in mind that no matter what you tell your father, he knows the Eaglemasters will still fight for Korindelf any day.
    “And,” he said as he prepared to leave, “should you ever find yourself on the battlefield with us, remember: we’re deadlier on the ground than in the sky.” With that, their trumpets sounded again, and they lifted off in one elegantly woven flock, flying far toward the West, the way they had come.
    Felkoth soaked in the wafting notes of their departure, seated at the head of thousands who would rather choke on the enclosing ash than complain. Nefandyr, his lieutenant, rode slowly forward to wait at his right, careful to halt inches before aligning side by side.
    “He suspects a great deal, my lord,” said Nefandyr, his white hair caked in soot. “Should we fear their eyes see farther than we anticipated?”
    Felkoth’s colorless lips stretched in a thin smile. “Fear.” He savored the word. “Fear is ten thousand mouths that would devour you were it not for the single solitary whip that splits any tongue out of turn. Fear is a ruler long past his prime who shields himself with one arm, asks for aid with the other, and finds both severed. Fear, Nefandyr, is very much on our side.”
    Pulling his horse around to address the awaiting soldiers, Felkoth announced, “We return to our forts! Save your strength. We must prepare for tomorrow’s celebration at Korindelf.”
    Quick to obey, every battalion left the long-dreaded South scorched far behind, its distant tower a flaming ruin in lands littered with rubble and dust—but not one corpse, no trace of the creatures that called it home.
     
    The three princes flew closely around King Valdis now, their battle-hardened faces distinctive reflections of his own, each troubled by questions that none dared voice. After leading the army back over the mountainous northeastern corner of his realm, Valdis broke off toward a nearby peak with his sons in tow, and they landed together as every battalion returned to its respective outpost.
    Unwilling to wait any longer, and assuming it his duty as next in line, Verald braved the silence caused by their father’s harsh expression, which threatened to unleash fire at the very mention of Felkoth. “Six years, Father.” He spoke tentatively, gauging the king’s reaction. “Six years since we last fought the South with them. All that time surveilling, strategizing, waiting for the enemy to make one move. He violates our pact, and we indulge his deception? We return home, just like that?”
    “All we know for certain is that his army hadn’t yet advanced when the fire began,” young Ondrel replied. “We don’t know who or what sparked it. They may very well have moved in afterward, and the shriekers would have been smoked out like gophers, right into their