A Shield of Faith (BOOK 4)

Chapter 3

YUVEN

"The logistics we will need to set up a forward camp in Irimount will require massive amounts of magmatic stones. Even then, there won't be a guarantee of livability with the cold, so we will not have a lot of time," Neven Lotayrin walked across the edge of the giant map, where Irimount's cradle extended out in magical projections of broken paths. At the head of the table of the leaders of the Order, Warden-Commander Faehariel set her elbows against the table and tented her fingers together. Yuven perked up when Neven waved his hand in his direction. "Due to the confluence of spatial energy Yuven released, we have a point of reference within the Umbral Sea to travel the distance through teleportation, but we will need a suitable anchor here on Euros." Sapphire streams swept across his hands when he shifted the magick projection, and Yuven leaned closer at the two visible entrances. "Yuven, which entrance did you take to enter Irimount?"

A father's curious firmness laced Neven's tone, but he set his shoulders straight. "I took the highest entrance," he replied to his senior Warden with due respect and due diligence. "I did not get a good glimpse of the cradle's bridge, I cannot say whether it is in any state for weight bearing. But the mountain path was clear at my arrival." Yuven swung his attention to Warden-Commander Faehariel. "It's not just the blizzard we'll need to worry about." He set his palms flat against his end of the table. "For a mercy, the cradle blocks out the worst of the downbursts of wind-shearing." He scowled at his weakness and worthlessness — and the horrible truth of irony in magick. "The Corruptor..." His voice fell against the might of its twisted roar.

Warden Haven tipped his head with a frown. "What's the matter, Traye?"

Neven's expression softened into concern.

Yuven pulled his fingers over the dark wood of the table. "Warden-Commander, do you remember the fall of Irimount?" he whispered, but kept his attention on the man whose life he ruined. Remember it more than I? Question lost in the rhetoric, he said, "The Corruptor was capable of spatial magick. The same bloodline which runs through my veins." He twisted his wrist and solidified a bubble of pure space upon the flow. "Irimount will not be safe if we do battle with it there. It has too many anchor points. Too many guidelines through the plane. We need to not only get... Fenrer close enough to cleanse it, we must drag it out of Irimount and give it nothing to work with." Ideas swirled on the tips of his thoughts. "We'll need to saddle a few hippogryphs for corralling purposes... and once it's out in the waste, then we can finish this."

Finish this torment that haunts me.

Bubbles bloomed on the surface of visceral reds.

He looked to Warden-Commander Faehariel. "I ask that you give me the reins of this operation," he said, and folded his lips inward when the older Wardens stared at him with a sense of incredulousness. "You left me in charge of the King's Summit. I'm the only one who can combat the wyvern's magick with my own. This would result in less casualties... and I know the cradle."

"No, you don't."

Yuven jolted at the argument not from those around him, but from the man whose life he destroyed all at once. Neven Lotayrin stepped through the snow-crusted map, the centerpiece of Naveeran might as it glowed in his sapphire abyss. "For sixteen turns I walked those streets of Irimount... and outside of it," he said and folded his arms. "Ever since I was a child, Irimount's cradle is all that I had ever known." He turned to Yuven. "I am not arguing against your participation, only your responsibility. You are not the only Irimountian here, you need not shoulder this all by yourself." He bowed to Warden-Commander Faehariel. "I know the matter is up to your discretion, Warden-Commander, but that is my thoughts on the matter."

"Neven," Yuven hissed through his fangs, and Neven's feathers twitched before flattening out against the soft breeze of their home.

Warden-Commander Faehariel frowned at them both. "I'm afraid Lotayrin's council is correct," she told him. "Yuven Traye, you may participate, but Captain Lotayrin will be who you defer to — your responsibilities will be decided by him." Out of her chair of streaming gold, she said, "We will need to gather supplies and I will send some Wardens down to the release vents of the magmatic pools to create runestones with adequate levels of heat. You're all dismissed until we have everything ready for the operation."