Free Heir of Shandara (Book 4) by Ken Lozito

father’s former staff at the palace met with unfortunate ends?” Rordan said. In deep stages of meditation, he was able to focus upon a single person and use the energy to nudge their thoughts. As he learned to focus more, and with the help of the amulet to focus his power, he was able to do more than just nudge a person’s thoughts. Some he could bend to his will, while with others he turned their dreams into nightmares.  
    His skin had become a pasty white, a side effect of the amulet, but he didn’t care. Even the Elitesmen within their midst gave him a wide berth now. He supposed he couldn’t blame them because they had become his practice targets while he honed his abilities. It was good that they feared him now. Fear was something these Elitesmen understood, and it was that fear that would make them useful for what he had in mind.
    “Do you think she will come?” Rordan asked.
    “Sarah will come. Your sister will never let the deaths you’ve caused go unanswered,” Darven said.
    Rordan nodded and resumed his pacing. His thoughts were clearer if he kept moving. “Do you think he will come as well?” Rordan asked.
    “Probably; I bet he hardly leaves her side.”
    His gut clenched at the thought, and Rordan kicked over a chair. “I need to get them separate.”
    “You should remember that Aaron Jace is, in fact, human. He can be beaten. He can be outwitted. One just needs to find the right leverage to keep him at bay or a distraction to keep him looking in the direction that you want,” Darven said.
    Rordan stopped his pacing. “Why does he hate you so much? I remember his reaction to you when we first saw him in Shandara. He knew who you were, but how could that be?”
    Darven stopped sharpening his blade. “I was with your brother, Tye, when he tried to capture Aaron. He killed your brother but not before my dagger found its home in his mother’s chest. That’s why he wants to kill me.”
    Rordan’s eyes widened. “You killed his mother… So that’s how the rest of you escaped.”
    Darven nodded. “There wasn’t much time for a better plan. Aaron wasn’t nearly as battle tested as he is now. Taking him on alone now would be a path to a quick death.”
    “I don’t need to take him on. At least not directly. It’s my sister that I will kill first. Then the throne of Khamearra will be mine as it should have been,” Rordan said, wiping his hands upon his pants. People always gave him strange looks when he did this, but Darven was too smart for that. The skin on the back of his hands always felt as if there were tiny things crawling on them. The release he had was when he took a life, but the feeling always came back. Slow at first, but steadily building over time until he gave in and went on the hunt for his next victim.
    “Have you given further thought to my proposal?” Darven asked.
    “The one where we reach out to the army of Hythariam that we’re not sure exist? No, I haven’t,” Rordan said, and resumed his pacing.
    “They exist. Mactar was aligned with them. At least he told me himself before he died. Regardless, I’ve seen a report come in from one of our remote encampments. They’ve been contacted, and there was talk of aligning against a common enemy,” Darven said.
    “They approached us? How did they even know that they were one of ours? And what do they want in return?” Rordan asked.
    “All good questions, my Lord,” Darven answered. “They’ve given us a means to contact them,” Darven said and set down a small black oval object on the table in front of him.
    “What is that?”
    “It’s a means to communicate with them. All you need to do is touch the top.”
    Rordan frowned in thought for a moment and crossed his arms tightly in front of him. “Why me?”
    Darven glanced at him with a slightly amused expression. “Because they said they wanted to speak to you.”
    Rordan tilted his head for a moment, considering. “Me specifically?”
    “You are the