“What do you mean they’re coming after Walt’s kingdom?” He grabbed her arm and yanked her to face him. “Wraithe, calm down.” Rigo reprimanded him. “Just what I said.” She seemed frustrated. “You know the prophecies better than almost anyone, Wraithe. There are four tells of the coming end. Isn’t your species here to stop that?” Wraithe wasn’t sure if her frustration was directed at him, or if it was badly masked fear, but her emotion pushed him hard. He wanted her to stop. He wanted all of this to stop. “One.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and held up one finger. “Two men, closer than brothers, divided by that which they love, build two kingdoms that war against one another. I know religious scholars assume that to be the brothers of the Christian bible who birthed the tear in the Levant. You and I know, it’s not written so plainly in history, is it?” He didn’t like her implications. He didn’t like the fear he felt as it slowly embedded its claws through the back of his neck.
