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“Fuck,” Ruby mutters, running her hands through her filthy hair. “Fuck.”

“So, no, we cannot wait,” Cressida answers. “The Queen’s Jubilee will be held tomorrow morning. I will make the announcement then.”

Ruby stares at her, dumbfounded. “At theJubilee?”

“Was it not your idea to ‘lead them into the dragon’s den’ so to speak? What better way to corner Alvira than by announcing the return of our lost ones while all are gathered beneath her balcony?”

“You’ll be executed,” Ruby breathes. “This is not the plan.”

“The plan has been escalated,” Cressida says evenly. “You will ready yourself for it. Even if we are lucky and the Glacians await the celebrations to be over, Alvira will have very little time to change her tune and align it with ours. Even if she cedes to the call of her people, time will be needed to rally.Youwill need to ready the battalions.”

“I am no longer their captain.”

“You will be so again,” Cressida says forcefully. “And when the Glacians come, you will be ready to fight them off.”

Ruby feels a splinter of panic within, cracking her resolve. “It won’t be enough,” she breathes, remembering her time in Glacia, the sheernumberof them.

Cressida’s eyes darken. “It is too late to bow out now, Ruby,” she says icily. “You gave me your word.”

Ruby only shakes her head. “We will need to evacuate the Mecca. The Glacians will come for them if they cannot reach the Ledge-dwellers.”

“There will not be time. Are the survivors waiting in the Fallen Village?”

“Yes. Like sheep for slaughter.”

“How many guard them?”

“Twenty.”

Cressida huffs. “I will send more to them tonight. As many as I can allow without Alvira becoming wise to it. We must hope the Glacians do not arrive sooner.”

Ruby almost laughs, the circumstances are so dire. “We must hope their number does not decimate us entirely. Or this plan will only lead to the slaughter of all.”

A rustle sounds from behind them.

Ruby turns, reaching for her sword. “Who’s there?”

“There are others who can be called upon,” a quiet voice says. From out of the shadows, steps Yennes. “Those who will be willing to fight.”

“The iskra witch,” Cressida hisses, then turns to Ruby. “Are you not able to tell when you are beingfollowed?”

“How much did you hear?” Ruby asks, holding her sword in line with the woman’s chest.

Yennes hesitates, her hands moving skittishly. “All of it.”

It will be difficult to kill and dispose of her, Ruby knows, but there seems to be little other choice. The woman is a puppet, and Alvira has always grasped the strings.

“That’s unfortunate,” Ruby mutters.

“I only wish to help.” Yennes watches the sword tip warily. “Please. I swear it.”

“What do you mean, there areothers?” Cressida asks abruptly. “Speak plainly, witch.”

Yennes bites her lip. “The mixed-blooded Glacians,” she says.

“The mixed-blooded have seized control of Glacia, imbecile,” Cressida snaps. “It isthemwe must now fight.”

“No,” Yennes says shaking her head. “No, I know them.”