Page 99 of In Rising Tides

Where Drystan was proportional in build, Caius appeared strung out, as if his limbs were too long and his torso too thin. He looked like a worm.

Lyra pursed her lips to keep from laughing at that description. This would not be a time for humor, but that didn’t keep her from seeing any.

The entire council had been called, and one more unfamiliar face peered at her.

A scout, Lyra realized, judging by the way he kept gawking around the room and at his tail. He was no older than she was, but the skin on his shoulders, nose, and forehead was reddened, as if burned by his time on land.

It aged him, giving him a rugged appearance, as did the blond stubble on his cheeks.

She frowned. Beards were an uncommon sight in Atlantis.

Drystan turned back to look at her, and she realized she still lingered by the door. He jerked his chin towards the others, and Lyra floated into the room.

“Now that we’re all here, you may begin,” Drystan ordered the scout.

The scout paled under the attention of the room, but nodded. His hands began moving quickly as he recanted his tale.

“So we’re working with Maelor—the new alpha. And we gave him the order to murder the Prince of the Wilds, but he wasn’t where you said he’d be. He had escaped. So they battle in the Valewood—that’s the name of the forest in their realm. And h-he nearly killed him too, but the pale one—I forget his name—took the killing blow.”

The information was pouring out of him so quickly that Lyra struggled to process it. But the names tugged at her chest.

Wilder had battled the wulvers again. It made her queasy to think about him facing his nightmares without her.

And the pale one?

Otto flashed in her mind like a beam of moonlight. He had taken the killing blow?

She wanted to vomit.

Did he survive? Was he alright?

Otto’s death would have rattled the stars.

Wilder, Maelys, and Ridge would not be the same without him.

Lyra would not be the same without him.

“Maelor ended up retreating, but not before prying some vital information out of the prince. And sire—it’s not. Well, it’s unfathomable.” He shook his head, his eyes still glowing brightly from his story.

Drystan glared at the scout. “You were under orders to confirm Maelor had assassinated the prince. And nothing more.”

Lyra struggled not to gawk at him. He was trying to stifle the information the scout had come here to tell.

“But sire, this is important?—”

Drystan opened his mouth to cut him off, but Lir beat him to it.

“I will hear what information the scout has brought us.”

Lyra’s lips thinned.

Of course, he would.

The scout took a deep breath and brushed his hands down his tail as if the feel of his scales would center him.

“We heard Prince Wilder say that Lyra had entered into a bargain—with the High King.”

There it was.