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himself. He hated every word that came out of
his mouth. “Is it worth it to launch our troops
here and march to save Anielle?”
Because they couldn’t risk the Avery, not
when Rifthold sat at its entrance. They’d have
to find a place to land and march inland.
Across the plains, over the Acanthus, into
Oakwald, and to the very foothills of the
White Fangs. Days of travel on horseback—
the gods knew how long an army would take.
“There might not be an Anielle left by the
time we get there,” Hasar said with more
gentleness than the sharp-faced princess
usually bothered with. Enough so that Chaol
reined in the urge to tell them that was
precisely why they had to move now. “If the
southern half of Adarlan is beyond help, then
we might land near Meah.” She pointed to the
city in the north of the kingdom. “March near
the border, and set ourselves up to intercept