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Regner hadn’t bothered shielding the humans on his front lines. They were the distraction. The bodies that would tire our own people just in time for his more experienced, powerful soldiers to take their places.

The humans on the front would be Eprotha’s poorest. These were the villagers I’d grown up among. The people who’d lived without their own power for most of their lives. The fathers and sons who’d been conscripted and who’d had no choice but to fight for their king. Some of them wouldn’t even have been able to read the conscription notice they’d been handed.

I choked out a sob, and my hand shook violently as I reached for my next arrow.

“I know,” Cryton said grimly next to me. “I know, Asinia, but it’s them or the children hidden in those caves. Let their faces blur and pretend they’re just targets.”

I tried. But I couldn’t.

Still, I kept shooting until my arm ached, until my new crossbow felt as heavy as stone. And the most cowardly part of me was relieved when the armies clashed and we could no longer shoot from this position without risking our own people.

More of our archers were stationed in the mountains behind us, doing what little they could to slow down Regner’s soldiers. I turned to Cryton. “You need to go join the others.”

“Come with me.”

“You know I can’t.”

His lips thinned. “Then may the gods watch over you.”

I gave him a shaky smile. “I’ll see you when this is over.”

He turned and scrambled off the rock. I picked one final target, a human who was barreling toward one of our hybrids, a snarl on his face.

My bolt took him in the throat.

And then all I could see was the silver armor of our people as they closed ranks. As they marched and killed. In the distance, I caught sight of the occasional black helmet touched with gold, too close to our own people for me to aim.

But I could hear the harsh clash of swords, the thud of arrows meeting wooden shields and flesh, the hair-raising screams.

I could see the flash of magic, punctuated by the guttural cries of agony that followed.

I could smell the fearsweat that hung on the air, mingling with the acrid bite of smoke from the Eprothans’ fires in the distance.

But underlying those scents was the salty tang of the ocean breeze. The sweet, earthy fragrance of the forest at our backs. Occasionally, I could hear the crash of waves against the shore.

It seemed almost ludicrous that death would reign in this endless expanse of sky and sand and sea. Above our heads, gulls circled. Soon, they would be replaced by crows, feasting on corpses.

And in the vibrant, bluegreen sea, the Eprothan ships that Daharak’s fleet couldn’t reach were anchoring in the shallows and sending skiffs of soldiers to paddle toward us, moving those soldiers up to the shore, where they joined Regner’s camp behind their lines.

One of those ships drew close to the place where Rythos’s childhood friend Fenreth had died so long ago when Prisca visited our kingdom. Soon, Regner’s soldiers would attempt to come ashore and enter Lyrinore through that tunnel.

But that tunnel had its own magic, and I had a feeling that it would make those humans very, very sorry.

As I watched, one of Daharak’s ships nimbly slid around one of Regner’s, and the gold-clad ship was engulfed in fire and magic, smoke curling up to darken the cloudless sky.

Just as another of the Eprothan ships drew closer to the shore, lingering for far too long. As if it were taunting us.

And when the ship turned to display its mast, I could see why.

PRISCA

Lorian, Galon, and Marth raged across the battlefield. They were so deadly, I had to force myself to tear my eyes away, to focus on the rest of our army.

“Regner is too safe,” Blynth murmured. “We have to infuriate him and then convince him he has nothing to lose by taunting us. We need a clear shot.”

But we couldn’t take that shot without the amulet Conreth wore around his neck.

Now, Blynth began cursing viciously. Dragging myattention away from the battle, I followed his gaze.