“Not just seven faeries,” Tarik said with gusto from the back of the packed tent, “but six wolves, as well.”

The werewolves thumped their weapons against their chests in a show of strength and pride.

“While I admire your bravery, I don’t see how this will work without all thirteen of you getting slaughtered,” Avilyard said. “I may not know much about werewolves, but I do know that in your human forms, you’re no stronger than the average man.”

“Yeah, but we’ve each got more grit than twenty of you,” Tarik said, holding his head high with a smirk.

Grit could only account for so much. Fear like nothing Ruenen had ever known pierced his lungs, driving a shard of ice through his heart. But Ruenen knew that Marai would never suggest this plan if she didn’t wholly believe it. He met Marai’s stare, and read her resolve.

“Can you do it?” Ruenen asked. His heart was fracturing. He shouldn’t be encouraging this idea. As Prince, he could tell her no.

Raife stepped forward, clapping a hand on Tarik’s shoulder. “We can hold the line. We’ll be the rock that breaks the wave.”

Thora gaped up at him, one tear streaking down her cheek.

“We’ll pull out all the stops, at least until Grelta arrives,” Leif said with a roguish shrug.

Avilyard stared from fae to werewolf. “How do you intend to do this?” Skepticism laced every word.

Marai cocked her head, looking up at Keshel. He stepped up to the table. “Shields. Magical barriers. I’ll place one around the entire Nevandian army.”

Jaws dropped.

“What exactly do you mean?” asked Commander Filitto next to Ruenen. Swords and arrows were one thing humans could understand, but magic was an entirely different entity.

“After our army is in place, I’ll erect an invisible shield. Let Tacorn and Varana waste their arrows. They won’t penetrate the barrier.”

“You cannot hold that shield forever,” Ruenen said, knowing that all magic had limits.

“I’ll slowly pull back, unit by unit, until I no longer have the power.” He would use it all. Keshel would spend every ounce of his magic to create and hold that shield. “Once my shield comes down, the rest of the fae will use their magic.” His eyes went strangely blank for a moment, gazing at something far off in the distance. “Except for Marai. She’ll be our last line of defense.”

The look that passed between Keshel and Marai was deep and filled with so much meaning. Ruenen stiffened. What had Keshel seen? An ominous feeling crept up Ruenen’s spine.

“Count me in on the left,” came Nosficio’s silky voice from the tent entrance. Bodies shifted and recoiled as Nosficio strode to Marai’s side, eating up the attention and shocked expressions. “Magical folk fight together.”

Marai crookedly smirked.

“A vampire?” asked Tarik. A few of the werewolves raised their weapons higher. “You certainly are a welcoming country.”

Nosficio replied with a fanged grin.

“Fine, I’ll lead the middle—” Avilyard began.

“No, I need you commanding the right side,” said Ruenen, fighting back the tremors that inhabited him, all the way to the tips of his fingers. He wouldn’t let them see his fear. “I’ll lead the main offensive, with Commander Filitto.”

“Your Highness—” multiple commanders said at once.

“Rayghast wants me. It must be me who meets him on the field in the center of everything. Might as well make myself easy to find,” Ruenen said.

“And who will lead the left—”

“I will,” Marai stated in a voice so clear and strong, Ruenen felt she’d been born for this moment. Laimoen’s creature, she’d once called herself. The God of Death, Destruction, and War. If Lirr had indeed sculpted Marai from her partner’s darkness, Ruenen knew she would lead, and never accept defeat.

“Trust her,” said Nosficio with a devious leer around the tent, “she is Queen of the Fae, after all.”

It was as if Nosficio had unleashed a giant slap across the tent, cracking across the faces of each commander and all the werewolves. The fae didn’t appear surprised, although Leif scowled, less than pleased. Marai, however, sent a vicious, blazing glare at the vampire, who ignored it by sweeping his dreadlocks over his shoulder. The air pulsed once with a power Ruenen knew belonged to Marai. If she had looked daggers at him in that way, Ruenen would’ve cowered. Any other human would’ve pissed themselves.

Questions sizzled on Ruenen’s tongue. So many questions. But the revelation had to wait.

I don’t have time to unpack that statement.

“I trust you to hold the left flank alone,” Ruenen said. Scorching eyes softened, and Marai nodded once. “You and your unit are dismissed.”

Marai signaled with a jerk of her head to the magical folk, and they all exited the tent. Nosficio glided out after them, not at all like someone marching off to war.

The commanders slumped, loosening the tension they’d been holding at the presence of magical folk.

“Let’s continue,” Avilyard said, placing his hands on the map.

Ruenen’s feet moved before his mind had made the choice. “Excuse me for one moment, Gentlemen. Continue without me.”

He brushed aside the tent flap and found the fae, werewolves, and Nosficio huddled away from the soldiers. Raife pointed, stone-faced, assigning tasks to each of them. As Ruenen approached, Raife stopped.

“I want to know what your plan is.”

“We don’t use any magic until Keshel’s shields go down,” Raife explained. “Until then, we shall use our physical weapons. Leif, Aresti, and I will then deplete our magic reservoirs. Thora will remain in the rear to offer medical assistance.”

Thora bit her lower lip; red bloomed, but she didn’t notice. Her lips were already chapped and bruised.

That left Marai and Kadiatu, who stared at each other from across the huddle. Kadiatu, usually brimming with life, radiating joy, had her face set in steely determination.

“Do you think you can combat his magic through the earth?” Marai asked her.

Kadiatu’s lips pursed.

“What do you mean?” asked Ruenen. “Like . . . through a tunnel?”

“Kadi’s been returning balance, taking back what Rayghast stole from Nevandia,” Marai said. “She’s already been battling him through the earth for days.”

Ruenen’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face. “You can do that? Reverse the effects of his magic?”

Kadiatu swallowed. “He makes the ground heave and fluctuate, like an earthquake. It cracks, and I mend it.”

“But can you fight him?” Marai pressed, stepping closer. Kadiatu was taller than Marai by a head—Marai had to tilt her chin up—but she stood like a seasoned general commanding her soldiers.

“For a short while.”

“Your main task is to distract him, provoke him. Force him to deplete his well,” Raife said, putting a hand on Kadiatu’s shoulder.