The War Priest (Ars Numina #5) - Ann Aguirre Page 0,5

ever there was one, but his phone beeped. Not an actual message, as the Eldritch firewalls were solid, but a backdoor protocol that allowed a warning to slip through. If they’d activated this application, things must be dire indeed at Burnt Amber.

Thankfully, he was done with diplomatic nonsense, and he had nothing further to say to Joss. She often contrived to be in his vicinity, though he had no notion why she enjoyed flustering him so. His demeanor discouraged most, and the rest of them were frightened off by his impatient scowl.

“Let’s go, you lot. We’re loading the vehicles and leaving in ten minutes. We need to get home so we can seal our borders and activate all our defenses.” He sounded grim, even to his own ears, but like it or not, no help was coming.

The other Animari had their own problems and the situation was dead messy for the Eldritch as well. Though the Golgoth had suffered heavy losses near Hallowell, the main force remaining was mustering on the edges of Burnt Amber lands. If the Gols took the hold, they’d also lay claim to the factory that could turn the tide of the war.

We have to hold. There is no other option. But the cost would be high, perhaps too much so.

In truth, it already had been. Some days, when Callum awoke, he still couldn’t believe that Beren was gone. I was his heir, but I was never supposed to inherit. His world was constantly spinning these days, just an endless cycle of dire news and grim necessity. He’d lost the brotherhood where he offered daily devotions and took comfort in the fact that his life had meaning. Those rituals were more than repeated patterns; they also imposed order on one prone to tumbling into chaos, if left to his own devices.

Callum wondered if the clan had any notion just how tempted he was daily to cast aside all prudence and strategy. Every single day, he wanted to stomp out of Burnt Amber and bellow a challenge at the nearest elite Gol and demand they settle this shit once and for all. If he did that and died, he’d leave his people helpless, leaderless, all over again.

And my cousin isn’t ready. Hell, I wasn’t either.

Whether he was the best person for the job or not, it hardly mattered anymore. Callum was all they had. At least he’d studied battle tactics as part of his theology course, reading about how the order had participated in various conflicts over the years. That was more than his cousin knew about heading up the clan during wartime. Once this was all over, he could step down and go back to his quiet, contemplative life.

Or at least, he clung to that tantalizing thought when shit got so tough that he could hardly stand his own situation. With a quiet snarl, he swung into the lead vehicle, trusting that the rest of his men would see to their own leave-taking. He’d made it clear how long they had; only fools would test him past a certain point.

With little fanfare, they put Daruvar behind them with the slow grinding of ancient gates. It was a long, long ride to the Burnt Amber borders, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone, but as soon as they passed beyond the range of the Eldritch signal jammers, his phone lit up with urgent messages. The Rover was quiet, as the troops let him focus on the anxious queries scrolling on his screen.

Finally, he called Renna, who was ostensibly managing things in his absence. More like, she’d been urging other people to pester him for hours. “Get everyone in the room. If you want my input, let’s do it all at once.”

She immediately cowered at the sight of his face. Now that was good for a man’s mood, wasn’t it? Though it wasn’t like he’d ever been adroit at charming people, Callum didn’t think he was always so…whatever he was that made people look like that. Renna’s eyes shone too bright as she blinked back tears.

Hell, I didn’t even say what I wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I really don’t know what to do. None of us were alive the last time…”

The conclave failed? Before it existed?

However Renna had intended to complete the sentence, she didn’t speak further, leaving Callum to fill the silence. Thankfully his beard hid the clench of his jaw as he battled resentment. How old does she think I am? I’m