Medichi uneasy.
“Spit it out, Owen,” Endelle said.
“Very well. I shall speak plainly. The future streams have revealed an impending battle, a very big battle.”
A wind suddenly flew around the room and struck Medichi in the back before moving on. What the hell? His gaze landed on Endelle. Her arms were held aloft and power streamed from her but in no particular direction, just a wind that flowed around the room. It hit him again. Damn. So much power. Yeah, she was a little upset.
“What do you mean, a big battle.” Endelle scowled and punched at the air with two fists. “Like army-to-army?”
“That’s exactly what I mean, except—” He broke off. He looked serious.
The flow of wind hit Medichi again.
Endelle’s nostrils flared. “Except what, Stannett? Would you spit it out, for Christ’s sake. We’re not children here.”
“The prophecy is all tied up with the mortal-with-wings and the possibility of her death. Apparently if she dies you lose big-time, and Greaves gains everything.”
“In what fucking way can this woman, a mortal, not even ascended, be critical to the outcome of a war?” Endelle’s thick black hair was writhing around her shoulders. Medichi had seen her temper a dozen different times, but he’d never seen her hair display her rage before. That was considered a Third Earth ability.
Stannett looked grim, his mouth a tight line. “The future streams rarely reveal the why of anything. You know that, Endelle. What I can tell you is that more than one of my Seers has recently predicted a major battle, as well as the failure of your administration, if the woman dies.”
Medichi couldn’t let this go. “And what kind of accuracy rate does the Superstition Fortress have anyway, you motherless piece of shit? And why should we believe anything you have to say. You haven’t helped us in years. Why now? Why would you give a good goddamn fuck now?” He couldn’t bear the thought of his woman dead while the man stood there like he was reading an article on how to make headcheese.
Endelle turned to face Medichi. She shook her head at him and mouthed a couple of curse words then sent him another blast of wind, this one with grit attached. He breathed the wrong way and drew some of that grit into his lungs. He bent over and hacked like he’d swallowed half a dozen fur balls. Okay, he got the point: He wasn’t helping.
“My warrior makes a lot of sense, Stannett. Accuracy is always a problem with Seers, the future being as unpredictable as earthquakes.”
“My prime Seer has a ninety-three percent accuracy rate.”
Silence hit the room. Endelle froze like she was a figure at a wax museum. She wasn’t even breathing.
Holy shit. Medichi looked at Stannett from his hinged position. He coughed again.
Time resumed. Endelle’s eyes bulged. “That’s not possible.”
“It is with this one.” His gaze skated to Thorne, held for the space of two long seconds, then shifted back to Endelle. What the hell did he mean by staring at Thorne?
Endelle took a step toward Stannett. “Tell me this, Owen. Why haven’t you come forward before this? I know you’re an ambitious man, but did it ever occur to you that I might be a better ally than no ally at all?”
For all Stannett’s frivolous clothes, hair, and even his affected manners, his face suddenly looked made of steel and his gray eyes glinted. “I will never be beholden to anyone, Endelle. That’s how I got this gig. Lots of politicking, bending over at the waist for centuries, taking it deep so that one day I could stand here and say, today, it pleases me to let you have this choice bit of information but that’s all you’re going to get from me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, Liberace, unless you have any more ‘choice bits’ to share, I guess we’re done here.”
Medichi ran his gaze over Stannett. All that embroidered white leather and fringe. Jesus H. Christ. Had the man no pride?
Medichi had hated Stannett
“Spit it out, Owen,” Endelle said.
“Very well. I shall speak plainly. The future streams have revealed an impending battle, a very big battle.”
A wind suddenly flew around the room and struck Medichi in the back before moving on. What the hell? His gaze landed on Endelle. Her arms were held aloft and power streamed from her but in no particular direction, just a wind that flowed around the room. It hit him again. Damn. So much power. Yeah, she was a little upset.
“What do you mean, a big battle.” Endelle scowled and punched at the air with two fists. “Like army-to-army?”
“That’s exactly what I mean, except—” He broke off. He looked serious.
The flow of wind hit Medichi again.
Endelle’s nostrils flared. “Except what, Stannett? Would you spit it out, for Christ’s sake. We’re not children here.”
“The prophecy is all tied up with the mortal-with-wings and the possibility of her death. Apparently if she dies you lose big-time, and Greaves gains everything.”
“In what fucking way can this woman, a mortal, not even ascended, be critical to the outcome of a war?” Endelle’s thick black hair was writhing around her shoulders. Medichi had seen her temper a dozen different times, but he’d never seen her hair display her rage before. That was considered a Third Earth ability.
Stannett looked grim, his mouth a tight line. “The future streams rarely reveal the why of anything. You know that, Endelle. What I can tell you is that more than one of my Seers has recently predicted a major battle, as well as the failure of your administration, if the woman dies.”
Medichi couldn’t let this go. “And what kind of accuracy rate does the Superstition Fortress have anyway, you motherless piece of shit? And why should we believe anything you have to say. You haven’t helped us in years. Why now? Why would you give a good goddamn fuck now?” He couldn’t bear the thought of his woman dead while the man stood there like he was reading an article on how to make headcheese.
Endelle turned to face Medichi. She shook her head at him and mouthed a couple of curse words then sent him another blast of wind, this one with grit attached. He breathed the wrong way and drew some of that grit into his lungs. He bent over and hacked like he’d swallowed half a dozen fur balls. Okay, he got the point: He wasn’t helping.
“My warrior makes a lot of sense, Stannett. Accuracy is always a problem with Seers, the future being as unpredictable as earthquakes.”
“My prime Seer has a ninety-three percent accuracy rate.”
Silence hit the room. Endelle froze like she was a figure at a wax museum. She wasn’t even breathing.
Holy shit. Medichi looked at Stannett from his hinged position. He coughed again.
Time resumed. Endelle’s eyes bulged. “That’s not possible.”
“It is with this one.” His gaze skated to Thorne, held for the space of two long seconds, then shifted back to Endelle. What the hell did he mean by staring at Thorne?
Endelle took a step toward Stannett. “Tell me this, Owen. Why haven’t you come forward before this? I know you’re an ambitious man, but did it ever occur to you that I might be a better ally than no ally at all?”
For all Stannett’s frivolous clothes, hair, and even his affected manners, his face suddenly looked made of steel and his gray eyes glinted. “I will never be beholden to anyone, Endelle. That’s how I got this gig. Lots of politicking, bending over at the waist for centuries, taking it deep so that one day I could stand here and say, today, it pleases me to let you have this choice bit of information but that’s all you’re going to get from me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, Liberace, unless you have any more ‘choice bits’ to share, I guess we’re done here.”
Medichi ran his gaze over Stannett. All that embroidered white leather and fringe. Jesus H. Christ. Had the man no pride?
Medichi had hated Stannett
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