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Ghost’s steps are … unpleasant. Nothing I cannot endure. Calla’s gift, a healing balm, aids the pain.His voice paused as he shifted in his saddle.Have you decided on your involvement today?

She required a moment, unsure of what to think back. Up until now, she hadn’t accompanied any extractions. Unwilling to be a part of taking Mystics from their homes to join in what could be their last months on Elysian.

It … didn’t feel right, still. Her own fate was determined for her. Only after she had vowed to ride by the High Prince’s side willingly did she stay. But how could she ask others to do the same?

Garrik glanced over his shoulder, arching his brow. A silent gesture asking for an answer.

Her breath sharpened. Still unsure of how to respond when he leaned back in his saddle, pulling lightly on Ghost’s reins until she, Storm, and Eldacar walked beside him.

Garrik met her eyes, his inviting. “Today will be different. If I had more time, if there was any other way.” He paused, silver growing dull. “I should not have tormented you in that forest so long ago. And what I did in my tent that morning.” He deepened a long, regretful breath. “I thought … that if I was your villain, that I could settle you safely in camp, away from me, until I could locate somewhere suitable. Somewhere safe. I … should have allowed you the choice.”

Alora frowned, dropping her chin in a stiff nod before fixing her attention on the leather of the reins in her hand, picturing that very same moment. The first time he dawned her away.She looked forward to the fast approaching forested trail ahead, knowing the entirety of the legion would break camp soon.

“Will you give them a choice?”

“Yes,” was all he said, voice stern, and she believed him. “Most join us simply because they possess no other alternative. Between hiding in fear or a chance for freedom, it is hard to say no to liberation. A chance to change their life from looking over their shoulder every day, wondering if that will be the day the High King captures them. You know how that feels.”

Eldacar heavily sighed beside them.

Garrik flashed him a knowing glance and offered a reassuring grin. “Besides, Eldacar is very convincing. If I cannot persuade them, he will.”

Eldacar shuffled in his saddle and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, exhaling a sharp laugh. “You’re too kind, sire. Indeed, too, too kind.”

The three continued to ride beside each other, lightly talking, keeping their eyes on the forest.

The front of the legion was only moments away from reaching the splitting point when a thick smell of charred wood accompanied a thunderous roar and sonic hissing. Even the air seemed to retreat as a blazing heat rushed over them.

And then …

Screams.

Screams of hundreds of faeries. Screams that echoed from deep in the mountain and bounced off of every surface. Agony. Pain. Loss. Fear. Screams of retaliation. Courage, anger, and rage.

The thunderous roar traveled closer, shaking anything that could move.

Anditwas moving. Coming closer to the legion.

Almost as if …

Garrik’s eyes darted to the air as a silhouette flew over the canopy of trees. Monstrous, membraned wings, countless horns on its incredibly pointed head, and a substantial body that covered the sun itself. Its entire being was glowing—not from sunlight—not from the shine of a precious jewel. Its skin wasmoving. Breathing. Living. Dancing with …

Fire.

The legion looked to Garrik as he gripped Ghost’s reins and unsheathed his sword. His hard eyes fixed on the creature soaring away.

Ghost reared as he kicked forward, darting a nod to Jade. “What is it you were saying about legends?”

This was not the plan.

Alora was not supposed to be there. He did not want her to be.

The screams of the injured and dying grew louder, but the beast had not been sighted since.

Instead, what guided their path was the stench of billowing smoke deep within the mountain. The legion moved as one, proceeding until they crossed an invisible wall, an illusion on the path, as if the ancient wards of Alynthia called to their aid and let them pass.

They would not make it to the caves. The battle was here.

And it should not have been thateasy.