Read The Lore Of The Evermen (Book 4) for Free Online

he walked forward.
    “Enchantress,” Rogan said.
    “Please, Rogan. I need to see Killian. He must convince the other houses to do more for Altura. The Legion is strong here in Seranthia, but Altura can’t hold out alone. Halaran will help us, but Petrya and Vezna must do more.”
    Rogan paused and then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. This could be a good time; for once the Tingarans don’t have him boxed up in the palace.”
    “Tell him I’ll be up in the gallery.” Ella pointed up at the second level. She could see a wide-open window, and there were no people around.
    Rogan nodded and walked away. Taller than the men around him, he still cut a daunting figure. Miro said that even the Tingarans found it difficult to argue with Rogan’s scarred face.
    Ella walked up the steps and leaned out the window, inhaling slowly, a deep breath that filled her chest. From here she looked out on an expanse of manicured gardens, one of many between the palace’s various subsections.
    She heard a throat clear behind her, and even as she rehearsed the words she would say, Ella smoothed her expression and turned with a smile on her face. She drew back in surprise when she saw the man who stood facing her.
    Ilathor Shanti, kalif of House Hazara, wore a costume both exotic and regal. His loose robe of black and yellow fell away at both sides, revealing a ceremonial dagger stuck into a golden belt. His hair was shorter than Ella remembered, and his sculpted beard was longer. He smiled at Ella, teeth white against his dark skin, but his burning eyes displayed emotion.
    “Ella,” Ilathor said, “I need to speak with you. Away from your brother, and away from all these other people.”
    “Please, not now,” Ella said.
    “Then when?” His brow furrowed, and his voice became firm. “When, Ella?”
    “Another time.”
    “You have said that before, and this time I will not accept it.” Ilathor shook his head, and then the anger went out of him, and he sighed. “Did you not receive my message? I have a proposition for you, if that is the correct word. I am kalif now, and I have brought my people to greatness. Agira Lahsa is becoming a city to rival any of the other houses. I can give you the life you deserve.”
    Ella covered her mouth. “Ilathor . . .”
    “Ever since I met you, I have not been able to stop thinking about you. Even amid the madness of the war, you were at the forefront of my mind. I have seen you grow, and I am awed by everything you are and everything you do.” Ella had never seen him like this; Ilathor was a stern man, and this confession must be costing him greatly.
    “Since my father died,” he continued, “I have been alone against the world. I need you. I can sense you find it hard to love, but love is a risk. The night we shared in Petrya . . . I have never experienced anything like it . . .”
    Ella looked past Ilathor’s shoulder and felt every vestige of blood drain from her face. A man in regal clothing stood behind the kalif of the desert tribes: Killian.
    Ella had never seen the expression Killian now wore. The thief from Salvation had a thousand faces. Now she was seeing him raw.
    “Is that true?” Killian asked. His eyes narrowed.
    Anguish hit her with force, like a stone dropped into her stomach , plummeting through her chest, tearing at her insides.
    Ilathor whirled as he heard Killian’s voice. Ella couldn’t register Ilathor’s reaction; her eyes were on Killian’s face.
    “I will leave you two to talk,” Ilathor said stiffly. He left without another word.
    Ella opened her mouth and then closed it.
    “Is it true?” Killian demanded. His face was close to hers. His expression was frightening.
    “Why would you care?” Ella said. “You couldn’t even make time to see me.”
    “My meeting ran over! It’s true, isn’t it?”
    “How could you vote against my brother?”
    “You’re avoiding the issue.”
    “This is more important than us!”
    Killian scowled.