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To that, Oscovko said nothing. No agreement. But no argument either. And that was enough for Andry Trelland. For now.

He took a step back, releasing his grip on the prince’s shoulder. With a start, he realized all the boat was watching. The Jydi raiders, the Elders,and Oscovko’s men too. Even Valtik turned from the prow, her blue eyes like two stars in the night sky.

Once, Andry would have crumbled under so much attention. Not anymore. Not after all he had seen and survived.

“You don’t even know if she’s alive,” Oscovko murmured, low enough for only Andry to hear.

Andry fought back a wave of revulsion.

“If she’s dead, so are we,” he shot back, not bothering to whisper.

Let them all hear me now.

“You saw what a broken realm looks like.” Andry pointed back through the darkness, to the part of the sky with no stars. “You saw the city burning, the undead walking, the hounds of hell and a dragon bearing down on us. You know what fate awaits Allward, and every single thing in it. Your homes, your families.”

A ripple moved down the deck as the soldiers exchanged heavy looks and whispers. Even the immortals shifted.

“None of us can escape what comes, not if we give up now.” Desperation rolled through Andry’s body like a wave. He needed every sword and spear before him, broken and defeated as they were. “It may not seem like much, but we still have hope. If we keep fighting.”

Lady Eyda was already with him, but she offered Andry a single, grim nod. Her Elders reacted in kind and bowed their heads to Andry. The lanterns gleamed off their armor and furs, dancing among faces pale-skinned and dark, heads golden and jet. But their eyes were all the same. Deep as memory, strong as steel. And resolute.

The Jydi followed suit without hesitation, rattling their weapons.

Leaving only the Treckish warriors, battle-hardened and weary. And loyal. They looked to their prince for guidance, but Oscovko did not move. He surveyed Andry against the lanterns, tight-lipped and grim.

“I will return to Vodin with my men,” he said, his voice booming.

Down the deck, the Treckish soldiers seemed to deflate. A few sighed out in relief. Andry gritted his teeth, wanting to scream with frustration. He felt the last of his patience ebb away.

But Oscovko wasn’t finished.

“I must return—and raise the rest of Trec’s armies, to fight this war properly,” he said. “To defend my people—and the realm entire.”

Heat flushed across Andry’s cheeks, and he was glad for the shadows.

“Galland spilledourblood in Gidastern,” Oscovko roared, slamming a fist against his chest. His men nodded in reply, a few fists clenching. “We will return the favor.”

Andry startled when Oscovko threw back his head and howled, baying at the sky like a wolf. His men responded in kind. In the darkness, Treckish soldiers on the other boats matched the call, their howls echoing like ghosts on the water.

When the cold air hit his cheeks, Andry realized he was smiling.

Oscovko smiled back, and it was the smile of a wolf.

“What of you, Trelland?” he said, pointing. “Where will you go?”

Andry swallowed hard.

The others looked on, waiting for an answer. At the prow, Valtik stood firm, unblinking and silent. Andry hesitated for a moment, waiting for her infuriating guidance. It did not come.

Oscovko pressed in, eyes flashing. “Where willyour girlgo?”

With a will, Andry wrenched his gaze away from Valtik. He found Lady Eyda instead. But in his mind, Andry saw another Elder monarch.

He thought of Corayne too, and all he knew of her. With the last Spindleblade in her possession, she was even more of a target than ever before. She would seek out somewhere protected, strong enough to keep her safe from Taristan. Strong enough to fight back against him.

And somewhere we all know, he thought, remembering the ragged hope Corayne kept alive.She will only go where she thinks we can follow.

“Iona,” Andry said, all conviction. The great city of immortal Elders rose up in his memories, walled by mist and stone. “She will make for the Elder enclave, in the Kingdom of Calidon.”