His father’s finger twitched. His gaze turned cold.

  “The Ring of Stone would completely prevent their ability to travel.” Midhir took a deep breath. “Would you consider it?”

  His father narrowed his eyes. He pondered in silence for a while. “No.” He finally spoke. “I cannot lower Eldoria’s defences now.” His gaze met Midhir’s. “Not while Calador is in its current uncertain state.” His fingers tapped against the armrest of the obsidian throne. “The wall must stand tall.”

  “I understand.” He knew the answer would be something like this. The ring of stone wasn’t something to be used lightly. Still, he needed his father to at least consider it once – so if the worst happened, he would act quickly.

  “Well?” His father asked. “How will you stop them?”

  Midhir bit his lips. “We must increase the number of patrols we have, each of them need to include at least one powerful resonance caster.” He clenched his fist. “One capable of interfering with crystal tools.”

  His father scowled.

  “The helm is an old artifact, but it’s powered by crystals still. It needs to be fed spiritual power, and it needs the script etched on its surface to route the power properly before it can be used.” Midhir explained. “If we can interfere with their ability to use it, then we should at least be able to try and fight them before they escape.” Only if the cultists didn’t spot their troops and escaped before even being seen of course, but he didn’t need to say that part out loud.

  “A plausible plan.” His father raised his chin. “Very well. Work with Captain Marr to make it happen. What do you think should be done with the Solus students?”

  Midhir pondered for a moment. That was a whole can of worms he hoped he wouldn’t be asked to solve. “It was careless of us to not check every student as they entered Derwen Hold.” He spoke slowly, giving himself some time to choose his words properly. “An identity check must be conducted. We don’t know if all cultists hiding amongst the students were found in the attack. Once that’s completed, and we know there are no more cultists…” he paused. He couldn’t send students to fight the cultists. Aiding the patrols was out of the question. “There have been many tears in the Veil near the northern wall, haven’t there?”

  He remembered noticing a report about that when he was helping Captain Marr and Enforcer Aoidh.

  “Quite a few, though the enforcers and resonance casters of the honour guard mended them before true harm to the veil could be done.”

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  “What about the spillage?” Midhir asked. Even after a tear was closed shut, some of the other side remained here, on this side of the Veil. “Whenever we came across a tear, there was some spillage – plants seemingly made out of flesh, or flowers that didn’t belong here.”

  “Such things aren’t too harmful.” His father waved his hand dismissively. “Not in the short term, at least.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that. “Solus students can aid with that cleanup.” He decided. “I don’t think anything that came from the other side should be allowed to remain here – the veil is weak as it is.”

  His father raised an eyebrow. “Very well. See to it that it is done.” He stood up, his gaze turning to the doors. “I must rejoin the banquet.”

  Midhir watched him leave and breathed out a sigh once he was out of sight. The doors to the obsidian halls remained half open as most of the guards accompanied his father to the banquet hall.

  He ought to follow, a thought occurred, but he brushed it aside as he sat on the steps and brushed his hair back. Now that his father was back, it felt suffocating once more. His thoughts were clouded, and it felt like he was trying to wade through waist high water. In part, he was relieved his father didn’t take his suggestion to use the ring.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall, startling him. They were the sound of high heels, and a comfortable stride. His gaze snapped towards the entrance.

  Ambassador Yvonne approached him with no hesitation. Her long, blonde hair cascaded on her back, and her long, white, silken dress swept the floors behind her. A shawl, the same pink as her eyes, covered her shoulders and upper arms.

  “Ambassador,” he stood up, and bowed his head lightly. What in the gods’ names was she doing here? “I’m afraid you’ve just missed my father, he left for the banquet hall.” The banquet made specifically for her. Why wasn’t she there, enjoying herself in proper company?

  “Is that so?” Her eyelids lowered as she glanced around in rather obvious disappointment. Too obvious, in fact. “Then I shall see him there.” She looked at Midhir. “How about you, your highness? Will you join us in the banquet hall as well?”

  “Of course.” He walked down a step. “Shall we…?”

  The Ambassador’s lips curled up. “I heard about the incident while we were away.” She gently pressed her hand against her heart. “My heart goes out to those who suffered injuries…” her voice faded as she glanced at his leg.

  Midhir’s lips formed a thin line. How did she know?

  “Your sympathy is appreciated, Ambassador, but you needn’t worry.” How did she hear about his wound? Had some of her entourage remained in Derwen Hold? No, that shouldn’t be. She had specifically requested every single one of her people join her in that pilgrimage of sorts. So how?

  Her smile slowly faded. “I was wrong.” Her overly polite, sweet voice turned cold and sharp. “I must apologise, Prince Ardagh. I took you for a fool blinded by old faith and corrupted by the touch of the Old Gods. I took you for a child who needed to be saved.” She bowed her head. “I dreamt.” She lowered her voice as she walked up a single step. Despite standing a step above her, her gaze was on the same level as his now.

  “I dreamt of the attack as it happened. I saw you fight, and I saw you struggle.” She clenched her fist. “You have seen something beyond what those so called worshippers of the Old Gods have, haven’t you?” She glared at him, her gaze piercing his soul. “You have glimpsed divinity, and seen how wicked it is.”

  Midhir looked away. “I have glimpsed something.” He admitted. “Divinity, I think not.”

  There was nothing divine about that giant eye.