Page 47

Kat and Emory burst from the tree line to find the feast in chaos—the smallest of mercies, given the circumstances, for it allowed them to rejoin the century discreetly.

Drunken soldiers staggered in every direction, and over the throng, Mira stood on a table with her hands cupped around her mouth.

“This is our chance!” she hollered. “To arms, you louts—or don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to muster. ”

The two of them exchanged a grim look. “I’ve got the decade,” Emory said. “You find out what’s going on.”

Kat nodded and set her sights on the feast’s high table, where Adrien and his companions were gathered in an anxious knot, heads bent together so they could mutter back and forth.

Adrien immediately brightened at the sight of her, waving her over to join them.

“Katrien, thank the hosts. It’s the most auspicious news we could have hoped for. ”

“Which is?” she asked warily. She couldn’t help checking both Celia and Daya, but for once the two of them wore the same inscrutable, focused expression, and Kat had no idea what to make ofit.

Before Adrien could answer, Mira blasted on her whistle once more.

The centurion rocked back on one heel, then lunged forward, one of her tokens granting her a burst of speed and power that had her sailing clear over the heads of her troops and into the heart of the camp.

Distantly, the whistle trilled again—this time in a staccato beat that usually meant move your sorry asses, so help me hosts.

“Well, remember that Lesser Lord we still haven’t dealt with?” Adrien asked, looking shockingly cheerful for the words coming out of his mouth. Kat privately wondered if the prince had been drinking just as much as his soldiers in yet another foolhardy effort to prove he could keepup.

“Difficult to forget,” Kat said, glancing back to the woods she’d just plunged out of. Part of her expected the final general to lunge from their depths right then and there, but the prince was far too calm.

“Our scouts just found its camp only a few miles from here.”

“You’re saying we can strike first?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity,” Adrien confirmed, beaming.

None of his companions seemed to object—but Kat wouldn’t have taken it that far.

It was unquestionably valuable if they could muster, march, and quash this problem once and for all.

But most of the soldiers staggering toward the camp to grab their armor and weapons were barely walking in straight lines.

A hard, driving, battle-ready march was sure to have half of them emptying their guts on the way there.

More than half, if Mira was leading the charge.

“We’re a single century,” Kat warned him.

“We’re built to work in a ten-by-ten formation on an open field.

And even if half of us weren’t drunk off our asses, we’re down by several members.

The woods will thin us even more, and the night will make tactics nigh impossible.

And Mira needs half an hour to attune to full power. ”

Adrien leveled her with a serious look. “And if your prince said he’s sick of feeling hunted and wants this war over once and for all?”

Kat grimaced. “Then who am I to refuse an order?”

There would be no subtle approach under these circumstances, but Mira had elected for an attempt all the same.

They’d fractured into four groups, and Kat thanked the hosts that she’d been placed in one with three decades instead of one with two.

The holes in their numbers left twenty-seven of them bent low as they stole through the forest. Kat’s heart jumped into her throat at every snapped twig, her nerves fraying worse and worse as their advance progressed.

Through the trees ahead, something glowed softly.

From a distance, it could almost be mistaken for the inviting light of a bonfire, but the closer they got, the more distinct its infernal red tint became.

It was hellfire that awaited them, and some primal part of her keened to turn back from its light.

Kat only tightened her grip on her spear and the back of Emory’s collar.

He had his shield up and ready, his free hand tucked in Carrick’s belt just as Elise had latched on to his.

This was the only way to coordinate a decade formation under the cover of night—all of them holding on, the shield line belted together, moving with the man at the center as a guide.

It turned them into one living unit—not the most graceful beast, but one that could contract into a protective formation at a moment’s notice.

The second and third decades were out to their left.

Somewhere in the dark, the second unit—composed of the fourth, fifth, and sixth—was rounding out behind the fire that marked the heart of the demon camp.

The third and fourth units, paired off from the last four decades of the century, were flanking, ready to pincer in the instant the order came.

Mira was out there somewhere, too, fully attuned by now.

Kat kept stealing glances at the treetops overhead, though she’d be hard-pressed to find the glint of Aurean gold among their shadows.

Their centurion was their greatest asset.

Possibly their only hope, given that she’d barely had anything to drink.

Their orders were simple. Pin down the Lesser Lord. Cut off any means it had to run. And then Mira would drop from the trees and use every last drop of Aurean power she could summon to run the beast through. If they did it right, it would be over in seconds.

But even with the blaze of the infernal fire still over a hundred yards away, Kat had already started to sweat.

It was too obvious for something that had been tracking them the entire course of the campaign. It smelled like bait, and they were walking right intoit.

As they got closer and closer to the light, a shape emerged beyond the trees—one that at first Kat mistook for an ancient, gnarled bit of old growth.

She had never seen a demon quite like this one.

The first Lesser Lord they’d fought had been enormous and muscular, the second built much the same.

But this one was wiry, more bones than meat.

It sat rigid next to the fire it had lit, a twin ember burning in the center of its chest. The flesh around that bit of fire was blackened at the edges, as if the monster’s gauntness was owed to the flame consuming it.

It looked as if the flame had been consuming it for a very long time.

It sat still. So still that it felt as if they were intruding upon some old and horrible shrine, disturbing a cultist in the midst of its meditation. Its eyes were closed, but that felt more like a dare than anything. Test your luck. See how close you can get. Win a prize.

And yet, they took the dare. They crept closer.

Close enough that breathing felt like it would awaken the beast, close enough that the decade had started to compact around one another as if presenting a smaller target would stave off the inevitable moment they were sighted.

The second unit was visible now on the far side of the Lesser Lord’s clearing, making the same approach, and Kat fought not to resent them for being assigned the rear.

She glanced again to the treetops, praying for the sight of a shadow crossing over the moon above—some indication that they, with their piddling little spears and shields, were not alone.

Closer. To the edge of the very last trees, the last sentinels standing between them and the beast. It seemed impossible they’d made it this far without the monster so much as flicking an ear. The only explanation was the worst one.

It had to be a trap.

The moment Kat had convinced herself of its inevitability was the moment Mira’s whistle screamed from the trees.

There was nothing for it—and no way to resist the siren call of the order without being left behind as the decade surged forward.

The other two groups that accompanied them were tight at their side, shields up, battle cries loud.

Kat let Emory’s collar slip from her fingertips, bringing her hand up to catch the haft of her spear instead.

He squared in front of her, his shield locked end over end with the other four flanking him.

And in the heart of the grove, the Lesser Lord’s eyes snapped open at last, liquid black and star-flecked.

Kat braced for impact, but the beast’s head only wobbled as it took in the puny humans who’d come charging into its camp.

She swore she could feel its gaze in the hairs that rose on the back of her neck, that burning stare moving right over her like she meant it no threat at all.

She swore, too, that it smiled.

In the span of a breath, Kat saw it all play out beat by beat.

First, the blaze of Mira’s sword lighting with angelic fire overhead.

Second, the demon’s sights locking on its true target.

Third, one gnarled hand moving—not toward the soldiers who charged it, but to the blazing campfire that the Lesser Lord sat nextto.

Its palm slammed down, a fury of red sparks spattered over the shield line, and the clearing plunged into darkness.

Save for two things. The burning red heart at the demon’s center, and the golden glow of Mira’s sword.

It should have been an even match. A target and the weapon meant to plow clean through it. But in that honey-slow moment where every soldier in the clearing flinched back from the scattershot embers, Kat saw exactly what the demon had been waiting for.

The fire was the real trap. Without it, they were grasping at the darkness, and even Mira, with her sword to see by, had lost the markers that guided her descent. There was no way for her to see the beast’s claws in the dark.