Page 40 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Blair, two years before Gatilla’s death

They destroyed outposts night after night, striking randomly and out of nowhere. Palisandre couldn’t predict a move, couldn’t send reinforcements in time.

The truth was, Blair and Caryan chose the outposts after the accumulation of magic she sensed. The more powerful the high fae, the stronger the magic. They took them down one by one and bled them out, feeding their essences into the reservoir. They set up camp at the most remote mountain peaks or tucked away in caves and neck-breaking ravines, impossible to reach without wings or phantom wyverns.

It took a month until the whispers of a Palisandrean army being sent towards the Blacklands reached Gatilla’s ears. Another week until war was openly declared and Blair found herself staring down into the valley, at the biggest army she’d ever seen.

The whole lush plain was crowded by rows and rows of soldiers in shining armor, setting up their tents and honing their weapons. Looking down on them, she couldn’t help it: her heart sank. Her knees turned weak at the sight of so many high elves, at the throbbing wall of power they emanated. This was only a fragment of Palisandre’s army, the most powerful kingdom in this world, and already the air flared and stirred with magic .

She’d known this would come. That this was what her aunt wanted—an outright confrontation for the whole world to see. What Blair and Caryan had been working towards during the last months. But seeing it was different.

A lot of witches would die.

A lot of soldiers would fall.

This was going to change this world forever. Change her. Forever.

She’d been so focused on the task of their mission that she’d managed to push it all back.

Time had been a blur.

She’d barely seen Caryan during those past months. Only in those hours they’d spent debating in the council tent, standing around the massive wooden table laid out with maps and protocols of his spies.

Had barely spent a night with him, thanks to her aunt sticking around. But she’d been too tired anyway for any clear thought. It had been worse than the harvesting they’d done before. Her magic was drained, night by night, from fighting high elves. She slept too little before she and her coven left again as the last ray of sun disappeared.

The full scope of what awaited them hadn’t hit her until now.

Her gaze drifted back to the army down in the valley. One more day, maybe two, until they would attack.

And the world would bleed like never before.