Her palms brushed over the seams of her trousers, rubbing the cloth raw in a rhythm she couldn’t stop. She needed to know whatthe fuck was hidden behind that boulder. If it was tied to her Mission—even tangentially—ignorance could cost her everything.
A bright flare lit the horizon.
“Seisho. The enemy approaches.” One of the Watch shaded his eyes, scanning the distance where the light blinked again, rapid and insistent. His mouth thinned, skin leaching pale as he tracked the pattern. “At least five hundred strong. And the reek of Mana—and something fouler—precedes them.”
Mira absorbed the report in silence, her throat working as she licked her lips. She shut her eyes, inhaled through her nose, and released the breath. When her eyes opened again, they were hard as hammered steel.
“Five hundred shinobi.” She nodded once, scanning the horizon. “Very well. It will cost us. But we are prepared. Initiate the first round of traps.”
Beside her, Kazuma had gone utterly still.
Aimee trailed her fingers down his arm, seeking an answer in the rigid line of muscle beneath her touch. With their position fortified and the Watch’s elemental mastery, five hundred should have been manageable.
He turned, eyes finding hers. Worry flickered there, unguarded.Shinobi wield the elements, too.The thought landed.All of the elements. Not just fire. And Mana makes them stronger.
Aimee swallowed and stepped forward on impulse.
“You should let us join the front line,” she said. “We can help. You know we can. The Mistress—”
“Do not presume to interpret the will of the Mistress to me.” Mira cut her off. “Your power is too unpredictable. Just as likely to burn us as the enemy.” She pivoted, her finger stabbing at Kazumalike a thrown spear. “Especially with this one in the mix.” Her mouth closed, then opened. “Andhewields the very force that threatens us.”
Aimee felt the words land before she registered them, taking a step back as the world seemed to tilt around her.
“The only reason you both are not confined to your quarters right now is because the Mistress decreed you useful.” She scanned Aimee, whose boot tapped against the stone with a mind of its own. “You will remain where I can see you—a last line of defense.”
I should be out there. Fighting.That was her only wretched purpose.
Aimee grit her teeth, silencing her foot through sheer force of will.
“If we all fall…” Mira’s hand landed on her shoulder then, fingers rigid. “If we all fall,” she continued, and now there was no mistaking the calculation behind her calm, “I know you will bring this entire mountain down to keep them out.” She paused. “The Mistress…and I trust you to do that. Else the whole world falls.”
“What?” Aimee’s shoulders sagged, the rigid line of her body crumbling into slack disbelief.
“She knows your Mission. You are our shaved knuckle—our wild card.” The phrase landed: not flattering, not tender, but clear. “We are prepared for this assault today. But if the terrain changes and we fail, you will be here to finish it. Is that clear?”
Mira met her stare head-on as the mountain hummed around them and the Watch closed ranks. Aimee tasted iron on her tongue and, for the first time since she’d landed on this world, the buzz of the Pattern pulsed through her blood in anticipation rather than reprimand.
“Yes, Seisho.” She dipped her head as the gravity of the truth settled into her ribs.
This was why she was here.
Chapter fourteen
Themountainshookwithanother concussive boom. Not close—yet—but close enough that the stone beneath Aimee’s boots carried the tremor. Echoes bounced off the ridges, overlapping into a steady thrum, the heartbeat of a battle unfolding just out of sight.
Flashes cut the sky beyond the peaks, fire blooming in violent arcs before vanishing in smoke. A wave of water crashed somewhere below, colliding with stone hard enough to send spray drifting on the wind. Each clash of elements reverberated through the range, the sounds weaving into a jagged chorus: lightning’s crack, earth’s groan, air ripping in sudden gusts. The Watch moved around her, squads peeling off to meet each flare.
And at the center of it all, Mira stood tall, braid hanging loose down her back, armor gleaming where the sun hit. Her voice carried with clarity, calling orders down the slope. “First squad, anchor the northern flank! Keep the fire lines steady. Don’t overextend!”
Runners darted in and out, their reports clipped, breathless. “Enemy numbers confirmed. Two hundred pressing the east ridge. Shadows moving with them—spreading.”
Mira looked to Kazuma. “The black substance. What is it? Mana manipulation?”
He frowned, shoulders rigid. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t—” She cut herself off, then exhaled. “Fine. We’ll deal with it when we must.”
The ground rumbled again, a harsher vibration this time, the kind that made grit jump across stone. Aimee’s calves flexed, her whole body leaning forward as though the mountain itself was pushing her toward the clash. It hurt to stand unmoving, to hear the fight roaring just beyond reach while her purpose burned useless in her chest.
