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No one spoke, and the silence was louder than death itself. It sank its claws into Thea, along with the horrifying truth.

She’d been too late.

‘I thought… I thought it was most powerful when it was used on someone you love,’ she said.

Wilder only held her more firmly in his arms.

Thea’s body shuddered against him, wracked with silent sobs, her chest aching as she tried to hold them in —

A violent gasp made her jump.

She whirled around to see Kipp’s eyes flutter, the wound in his chest knitting closed.

‘Furies save me,’ he rasped. ‘Are you trying to get me killed again, Thea? Don’t tell the Warsword you love me.’

Thea fell back down to her knees. With tears of relief and almost manic laughter, she smacked Kipp’s arm. Gods, she almost wanted to kill the strategist herself. A tidal wave of feeling threatened to crash over her, leaving her in a trembling state of shock.

That trance-like state was broken by Cal, who knelt in the snow beside Kipp as well, shaking his head.

‘You…’ His voice was hoarse.

Kipp’s gaze flitted to his friend as he sat up with a wince —

Only for Cal to grab him in a crushing bear hug. ‘I thought you were dead, you fucking prat.’

‘Technically, I was,’ Kipp wheezed, rubbing his chest beneath Cal’s grip. ‘And do you mind? I’d prefer to stay in the land of the living for now…’

Cal eased off him, only slightly.

With a strangled cry, Thea wrapped her arms around them both, burying her face in Kipp’s shoulder.

‘Not you, too,’ Kipp muttered, though there was a distinct note of delight in his tone. After a beat, his long arms came around both Thea and Cal, and together, they cried and laughed in the snow.

Cal took their friend to see one of the healers, just in case, but judging by Kipp’s usual dramatics, he was very much himself.

The springwater had brought Kipp back almost instantly, just as Wilder’s had done to her all that time ago. Thea felt raw, as though the battle and Kipp’s near-death experience had gutted her roughly and scooped out her insides. From the weary expressions around her, everyone felt much the same. But the battle was not over even when it was won, however narrowly.

Thea was glad for Anya and Talemir’s orders. She set about her tasks without having to think too deeply about all that had unfolded on the blood-drenched plains. They tended to their wounded and counted their dead, the reports of casualties coming in hard and fast from the outer units.

Hours later, they found themselves in the relative warmth of the command tent, passing around a nearly empty flask of fire extract, trying to process the unimaginable loss on both sides. Artos had hurled everything he had at their forces, with no regard for the lives of his own legions, but he had eviscerated them in the process. The death toll was staggering, and rising by the hour.

Thea sat on a chest in the corner of the tent, Dax by her feet, her fingers mindlessly stroking the soft fur of his ears. His presence was a comfort to her, and a warmth over her frozen feet.

‘Has anyone seen Audra?’ she asked, scanning the room, trying to recall the last time she’d clapped eyes on her former warden.

‘She was talking to Farissa, before the battle,’ Wren offered. ‘But I haven’t seen her since.’

‘She’ll be around here somewhere,’ Cal added.

Thea frowned. It was unlike Audra to miss the crucial post-battle debrief, but she shrugged it off. ‘What about Anya and Talemir?’ she said, finding the two leaders missing.

‘Guarding Artos with Adrienne and the Bloodletter,’ Drue replied from where she was draped over a chair, as though she’d melted there. ‘They’re not taking any chances, particularly with no wraiths or reapers taking part in this battle.’

Thea nodded. ‘Good. What happens to him now?’

‘We’ll move him to a more secure location, then interrogate him for the whereabouts of the reapers’ lairs. And anything else that might help us stop the midrealms falling to the darkness —’

Dax gave a soft bark, just as a shieldbearer made himself known in the doorway.