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Not just swords and daggers and axes, though there were plenty of those, with edges honed to a sharp taper and sheaths made from sturdy leather. There were breastplates and bracers, gauntlets and pauldrons. Several sets of chain mail and a stack of beautiful, mixed-metal shields.

Elyria stood at the edge of the wagon, scanning the assorted pieces on display for a moment, then stepped back.

“Nothing catching your fancy, Ellie?” Kit asked. “I’ve got my eye on that pretty set of pauldrons on the left myself.”

“Better snag them before anyone else sees,” Elyria replied with a laugh. “But for me? I’ve got my own armor.” Her shadows misted over her skin as if to make a point. “Still, I’d thought maybe if they had a good-looking staff . . .” She shrugged.

“Sorry, my lady,” Georgie said sheepishly, leaning against the edge of the wagon. “Got nothing of the sort, I’m afraid.”

Kingsley slapped Georgie’s hand, and the dwarf yelped. “It’s ‘Yer Majesty,’ to that one, ye eejit.”

Kit chuckled.

Elyria groaned. “I promise you, Elyria is just fine.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but the clopping of hooves down the cobblestone road had everyone’s attention turning at once. There was a snort and then a whinny—high and frantic—as a magnificent champagne-coated horse came to a stop in front of the group.

“Fjaethe!” Elyria exclaimed, dashing for the horse and running a soothing hand down the side of her neck.

Elyria’s mare stood there, riderless on the street, her chest heaving, coat splattered with mud. Fjaethe let out a low, distressed nicker as Elyria pressed her forehead to the horse’s.

Kit’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Tenny,” she said, voice cracking over the name. “Tenny took Fjaethe to Kinsgaith. If she’s here now, then⁠—”

“Then something is wrong in the village.” Elyria’s voice was as sharp and cold as an ice-forged blade. “Something must have happened. We need to go.”

“But we just heard from her,” Cedric said, though the tremble in his voice belied any confidence he might have otherwise meant to project. “She said the king’s soldiers are there, that they have the entire village surrounded. Surely⁠—”

“Nothing is sure when it comes to him,” Elyria said. “Nothing is certain. Tenny could have sent that sparrow on its way hours ago. Do you really think Fjaethe’s being here is some coincidence? We cannot afford to be wrong.”

The tavern doors swung open one final time, and Sid moseyed out onto the street, still somewhat cub-sized, though larger than she’d first been when she popped out from the shadows. With barely a glance at Elyria, the shadowcat hopped onto Fjaethe’s back and curled up in a ball behind her withers. The horse calmed instantly, her breath slowing, misting evenly from her nostrils.

“So much for that final night’s rest,” Thraigg lamented. “We didn’t even get to make one last toast.”

“We can toast to Malakar’s demise on the way,” Elyria said sharply. “We move for Kinsgaith now.”

46

REUNION

TENNY

Tenny felt it before she saw it—a shift in the air, a pressure behind her ribs, a prickle running down her spine. She’d thought at first it was just the lack of sleep getting to her, the weight of this nebulous time of night, just before dawn was to break.

It wasn’t as though anyone else had been able to sleep either.

Tenny looked up from where she was cloistered around a small table with Tristan, Ollie, Zephyr, and Captain Gaius, the leader of the contingent of King Callum’s forces that had joined them here in Kinsgaith.

Joined them just in time, as it turned out.

Malakar’s sudden appearance yesterday still clung to the air, a sickening, smothering reminder. Tenny could not scrub her mind of the way his magic had torn through the southern edge of the encampment, leaving soldiers scrambling to hold the line, horses whinnying as they broke loose and escaped in the chaos.

They had regained control eventually. Closed ranks. Rallied the men.

But not before the dark sorcerer had cut his way through to get to the village.

And not before some things had been lost—Fjaethe being one of them. Concern for where the animal had run off to sat heavy on Tenny’s shoulders, but the sting of her absence was nothing compared to the air of death that hung over them all. Nothing compared to the sacrifice of the soldiers who’d had the grave misfortune of being in exactly the wrong place when Malakar had shown up.