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All around Wilder, shadow-touched folk were emerging from the darkness, hauling supplies, weaponry or other people with them. Others were meeting them via the network of tunnels beneath the midrealms, finding their way to the foothills by other means.

A crescent moon and starry night illuminated the wintry landscape, the dark forests at their back, and the seemingly endless plain stretching before them. They had positioned themselves on the north-western side of Vios, placing the mountains between them and the capital, and themselves between Artos’ incoming forces and the kingdom of Aveum.

Wilder barked orders at his unit as soon as their boots hit the snow. They needed to pitch their tents and establish secure supply lines. There was no way of knowing how long they’d be camped there, and ensuring a steady flow of food, water, weapons and medical supplies for their troops was paramount. A starving army was as dangerous as an unskilled one. They would all be on rations, but Wilder realised that the shadow-touched folk were used to eating lean.

Before long, the campsite was bustling with activity, and even as the snow set in Wilder could see it taking shape far more quickly than he’d anticipated. Rows of tents were pitched, including their command centre; wood was chopped down for fires; the horses were tended to beneath the sparse shelter of the trees.

Wilder consulted his own instructions. Kipp had left them with a list of traders to negotiate with, and the positions of several local villages that would help them secure routes through the treacherous terrain, so he set about ensuring that everything was in place, sending messengers to their contacts so they knew the battle would soon be underway.

There was still no word from Kipp, no whisper of what had happened to Esyllt, whom they needed to rally the Thezmarrian Guardians. But they couldn’t afford to wait any longer. This war was going to start with or without the strategists.

In the weak torchlight of his tent, Wilder penned several copies of the same letter, pleading for aid, and sent them in every direction to any Guardians stationed within a few days’ ride of the foothills. They needed all the fucking help they could get.

He had no notion of the hour as clouds crept across the face of the moon and the campsite grew quiet. But he made no move to take shelter in his tent. Instead, he stood watch on the perimeter, willing Thea to hurry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THEA

Thea didn’t know how they’d done it, but she, Wren and Anya rode at the head of Queen Reyna’s army, a host of Aveum soldiers at their backs.

Thea had been convinced of their failure, going so far as to pack her bag and demand that Anya use her shadow magic to take them back to Naarva. But not only had Queen Reyna surprised them all with her alliance, she had also offered Thea a vial of springwater.

Thea had attached it to the leather string she wore around her neck, and now it rested against her fate stone, knocking gently against her heart as they rode towards the war camp waiting for them. The irony wasn’t lost on her: one object marked her death, while the other had the power to save a life – just not hers.

Even from the furthest perimeter, Thea understood why they’d chosen this position. The woodland areas, however barren, still provided cover for the troops. Across the way, the hillside at the base of the other mountains allowed for ambush tactics should they need them, and the terrain itself offered numerous strategic advantages. Spending so much time with Kipp made these things far easier to spot. She saw that commanders would be able to control the high ground and gain a vantage point, perhaps use the elevation for defensive positions or archers. Cal was likely scoping out the area already.

As they rode deeper into the camp, Thea grimaced at the patches of ice. They’d be an issue, causing additional hazards and making footing treacherous for both infantry and cavalry. She only hoped that on the actual battlefield they’d be few and far between.

The atmosphere shifted, both in the ranks behind them and in the camp beyond as they dismounted and asked after Talemir’s whereabouts. Leaving the Aveum commanders to warm themselves by the fires, Thea and her sisters were directed to a tent at the centre of it all.

‘You did it!’ Adrienne shouted as they lifted the canvas and entered the makeshift war room. The ranger came forward and embraced Anya hard.

‘I don’t think the hard part’s over,’ Anya told her drily.

‘Gotta celebrate the small wins,’ Adrienne declared with a grin.

‘She’s right,’ Talemir said from where he was braced over a table covered in maps. ‘You did well. Thank you.’

Drue appeared at Thea’s side. ‘With the mood he’s in, that’s like getting a Warsword totem from a Fury.’

‘Has something happened?’ Thea asked, her heart rate spiking. ‘Where’s Wilder?’

‘On sentry at the northern perimeter,’ Drue replied. ‘And nothing has happened, yet… but there’s bad blood between some of our units, and the arrival of the midrealms’ forces will only fuel the flames. We’re going to keep the two camps separate at first, to avoid any skirmishes breaking out. The men are tired and weary. It wouldn’t take much to trigger a brawl.’

Thea nodded. ‘I’ll tell the Aveum commanders.’

‘Who do they take their orders from? I’m assuming the queen gave someone military power?’

‘Commander Sylas Yarrow, but actually, she insisted that Torj Elderbrock lead them,’ Thea explained, scanning the tent for the Bear Slayer. He wasn’t there. ‘Queen Reyna had a vision, not that we understood it. She said, “I have seen that gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten…” What that has to do with Torj, we have no idea, but we assured her she’d have him.’

Drue’s brow furrowed in apprehension, but she looked to Talemir, who simply shrugged. ‘It’s her army. If she wants Torj to lead it, and Torj is willing, then we’ll make adjustments to our own ranks.’

Thea nodded. ‘I’ll let Yarrow know.’

Truth be told, she was eager to leave the tent, deliver her message, then find Wilder. She had been gone far longer than she’d anticipated and she missed her Warsword with a ferocity that scared her. They had already spent too much time apart in the face of her limited days; no more. She wouldn’t stand for it.

As she made her way back towards the Aveum commanders, she knew Drue had made the right call by opting for separate camps among the allies. The animosity was rife, so thick in the air she could feel it pressing down on her shoulders. What she hadn’t realised was that the sense of ill will wasn’t just between the shadow-touched and the regular foot soldiers of the midrealms. It was directed at her as well.