The great doors of the Regent’s keep loomed ahead, black wood bound in iron and etched with symbols that shimmered faintly in the pale light of dawn. Unlike the outer gate, these doors did not tremble beneath the weight of Kael’s presence. Instead, they seemed to hum with a low, warning thrum, as if the very wood resisted being breached.
The courtyard behind Kael’s army was littered with the dead and dying. Blood streaked the stones in thin, dark rivulets that trickled into the cracks between the cobbles. A cold breeze swept across the open space, carrying the scent of iron and rain.
The boy wiped a streak of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His grip on the spear was tight, his knuckles white beneath the dried grime. He cast a glance upward at the doors and swallowed, unea
