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T eryn roared against his gag as he watched blood seep from his father’s throat. The guards stepped away, leaving Arlous staggering, writhing, his bound hands preventing him from covering the wound. Teryn struggled against the arms that restrained him. This time it wasn’t Morkai’s guards but his father’s own men. He was desperate to run to him, to save his father before he could bleed out. But all hope of that was lost when a flash of silver swept between Arlous’ head and shoulders. Teryn hadn’t seen the soldier come up behind his father, hadn’t seen him unsheathe his sword. He only saw as Arlous’ head was separated from his body before falling to the ground. Hot tears streamed down Teryn’s cheeks as he renewed his struggle to get free. “No, Your Majesty. No,” General Nellman kept saying over and over. At first, Teryn thought he was quietly lamenting Arlous’ death.

Then he realized Nellman was talking to him .

He was king now.

Morkai stepped toward Larylis, who stood trembling, eyes fixed on their father’s corpse. “Do you feel satisfied with your choice, Larylis Alante?”

Larylis’ gaze shot toward the duke. His throat bobbed. Once. Twice. When he spoke, his words came out trembling. “We…we will now discuss terms for war.”

Morkai released a sigh and extended his free hand to the side. His cane was clenched in the other, his hidden blade back in its sheath. “No, we will not.”

The ground rumbled all around. A dark shape bounded over and leapt onto the rock. It was the Beast. Just then, one of the duke’s soldiers blew a deep and baleful horn.

The horn blast echoed through the valley, its tone reverberating through Cora’s bones. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dead king. They didn’t surrender. They were supposed to surrender. She’d thought that was what had happened when Teryn had been transported to the other side of the rock. But now King Arlous was dead, and the horn…

It signaled battle.

She could spend no more time waiting for Teryn to get to safety. If the Forest People were going to take down the duke, they’d have to act now.

She assessed the figures who’d come to stand beside her, all dressed in the same leather armor she wore. The archers and spearmen had their weapons drawn. The Faeryn had their hands raised, ready to summon the Magic of the Soil.

A glance back at the valley showed the Roizan leaping onto the rock. It must have charged from her brother’s camp when she hadn’t been looking. With a spike of terror, she whirled toward Valorre and tore the cotton sheath from his horn. “Go,” she whispered.

The unicorn took off running.

Cora and the Forest People followed.

Teryn shouted Larylis’ name, but his mouth was still gagged. His muffled cries were drowned out by the war horn, by General Nellman’s call for retreat. Larylis obeyed the call and dove off the rock. One of Menah’s soldiers got hold of Larylis and began ushering him away from the rock. Teryn stumbled, his movements made far more difficult with his hands still bound, but he was quickly hauled to his feet. He found Lieutenant Griff at his side, a knife in hand. He cut Teryn’s bindings and gag, then hastily dressed him in a belted sword and breastplate. All of his father’s soldiers—no, his soldiers now—formed a wall around him and Larylis against the duke’s men.

Larylis sidled closer, sword raised. His hand trembled, his face as pale as a ghost as they continued their retreat. The duke’s men were gaining on them. Teryn exchanged a terrified glance with his brother. Neither needed words to express how they were feeling. They were both terrified. Reeling in the wake of their father’s death. “Your sword,” Larylis said, voice wavering.

Teryn glanced at the sword that had been belted at his waist. Only then did he recognize it. His father’s sword. His father’s breastplate. Both had been stripped from his father when Arlous had taken Teryn’s place. The armor was light. Not what a royal would wear into battle, but his father hadn’t anticipated how the meeting would end. It wasn’t how so-called peace talks were supposed to work .

This isn’t how anything is supposed to work .

Arlous’ death replayed before Teryn’s eyes, but he forced himself back to the present. Grief lanced his heart as he unsheathed his father’s sword. Morkai’s men were gaining on them, and the horn had likely summoned the rest of his forces back at camp. Hopefully it had summoned reinforcements from Menah and Selay as well.

Teryn caught a glimpse of the rock where Morkai stood next to his Beast, lips pulled into a smug grin. The view was quickly obscured by a misty fog. It sprouted from the earth in patches that were growing denser by the second.

His blood went cold.

This wasn’t fog.

A patch of mist turned corporeal before his eyes, forming a towering figure with a semi-translucent battle axe. The wraith swung the weapon, but not at Teryn. He was facing away from him…toward Lieutenant Griff.

Teryn’s warning came too late, and the man took the axe in his shoulder. With a grunt, Griff staggered forward and whirled to face his opponent. Through the wraith’s body, Teryn saw the lieutenant’s eyes go wide, saw where his armor was rent open to reveal a seeping wound. The man’s arm hung useless at his side, but he kept the other hand wrapped tight around his sword. The wraith swung his axe again, but Teryn dove into action. His father’s sword cleaved through the specter, making it disappear into a puff of mist.

Lieutenant Griff met Teryn’s gaze with a haunted look, his face already pale from blood loss.

“It’s going to reanimate in a matter of seconds,” Teryn said. “Be ready?—”

Griff charged to Teryn’s right and met the shaft of a spear that had been aiming for the flesh above Teryn’s breastplate. Teryn launched back. Griff’s sword knocked the spear away. Another swipe and the wraith was gone. At least the apparitions’ weapons could be parried like any other, and their bodies could be vanquished by the lightest interference. Teryn had witnessed that when Cora had shot them with her bow. Her arrow had soared straight through every wraith in its path and took them out with ease.

The problem was that they kept coming back.

The axe wraith reformed before Teryn’s eyes, staring down at him with two black hollows. Teryn cut through his middle before he could swing his axe, but the spear wraith was back now too. Teryn blocked his spear then swiped through his body. Turned, cut down another. Turned. Another.

They were everywhere.

Everywhere.

He turned again, watched Lieutenant Griff fall to the earth, his gut gaping open where the axe wraith had split his armor yet again. The next swing of the axe severed Griff’s head. Teryn’s stomach lurched. He stepped back, forcing himself to keep his nerve. Mist formed at his left but he cut it down before it could take a human shape. Another appeared on his right. Another straight ahead.

A flurry of wings stole past his vision, cutting through the bodies of the wraiths and sending them scattering into mist. Berol . She flew back up, her wings beating the air.

A specter holding a mace charged him. Again, Berol dove down. The wraith swung his mace. It nearly collided with her. She veered left at the last minute, missing the weapon’s spiked head by an inch.

She landed on Teryn’s shoulder and frantically nipped at his cheek. “Go!” Teryn shouted, waving her away. The mace wraith renewed his charge on Teryn. Berol launched off Teryn’s shoulder and flew at the apparition. This time, its mace connected with one of her wings. “Berol!” Teryn saw her fall to the ground just as he cut through the wraith. As soon as it disappeared, he turned toward the falcon. She rolled on the grass and righted herself, then flew back toward Teryn. Her feathers were bent at odd angles where the wraith had struck her, making her flight uneven. She flapped her wings in his face, ushering him back. His heart squeezed tight at the sight of those twisted feathers. “Get out of here, Berol. Home! Go home .” She beat her wings at him a few more times, but he gently shoved her away. “Go!” he shouted as fiercely as he could. “Go away!”

She launched back into the sky and circled overhead.

“Please.” The word was barely a whisper. With all his heart, he willed her away. Whether it was home, the woods, or some far off place, he didn’t care. He’d rather never see her again than watch her die protecting him.

Finally, she flew out of sight.

With a bone-deep weariness, Teryn returned to the fight.

He barely noticed when a small cavalry charge came from behind. Reinforcements had arrived but it still wasn’t enough. There were too many wraiths.

He swung his sword again and again, his arms aching with every slash. His father’s longsword was far heavier than the shortsword he’d brought on the Heart’s Hunt. Still, he fought on. The wraiths were relentless. A particularly skilled apparition pursued him, blocking every swipe and slash with his translucent sword. The sounds their two weapons made when they made contact was wrong. There was no clang of steel on steel, only a muffled crash. Sweat dripped into Teryn’s eyes. His muscles screamed with every move. He parried. Stepped back. Parried. Stepped back.

His next step landed on something hard. The body of another one of his soldiers, he realized with terror. He lurched back as the wraith swung his sword, sending him tripping over the man. The wraith took his chance to close in on Teryn. Teryn lifted his sword, but the wraith was faster, his weapon darting straight toward his throat.

The wraith froze and puffed into mist. Teryn scrambled to his feet and found a thin, twisted root where the specter had been. Not too far away he saw a woman with tan skin, dark hair, and inked forearms. His heart stuttered as his first thought was that the figure was Cora. But another look revealed this woman was much older. He glanced around the battlefield and noticed a few other similar figures, their tattooed palms raised as more roots rose from the earth, tearing wraiths in two, snuffing them out before they had the chance to fully form. He saw others with spears and bows, some in direct combat with Morkai’s soldiers.

Teryn wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Cora must have brought her people. Her coven. She might even be there herself. The prospect wasn’t entirely comforting, as he hated the thought of her being in harm’s way. Still, the odds were no longer so firmly against him, especially as an infantry charge stormed into the fray.

A wraith formed in front of him, and he cut it down, ignoring the scream of his muscles. Gritting his teeth, he turned his mind away from retreat. There was one person he needed to find.

One person to kill.