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She set her jaw. “And seven.”
“And six,” Dom countered sharply. “Youwill not be fighting.”
Charlie tipped an inky finger, brows raised high. “And four. I hardly think you need me in this mess. And I haven’t seen Valtik since we left Vodin.”
Dom hissed out a breath, feeling his eye twitch involuntarily. It was so like the witch to disappear that none of them noticed until now.
“She’ll turn up,” Sigil muttered, perched on a stone. She flexed one massive hand and Oscovko smirked. The memory of their match was obviously still fresh in his mind.
Corayne heard none of it and stood from the ground, planting herself in front of Dom. It felt like staring down a particularly annoyed rabbit.
“What’s the point of all this training if I’m not allowed to fight with the rest of you?” she demanded.
All manners forgotten, Dom leaned down to her eye level and growled. “What’s the point of the rest of us fighting if youdie, Corayne?”
She recoiled, startled by his sharp tone. Immediately, he regretted it.
“My apologies, but I have little patience for bravery anymore,” he sighed, touching her on the shoulder. “It always ends poorly.”
Corayne frowned and sat again.
From the other side of the fire, Sorasa raised her cup.
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Elder,” she chuckled. She drank deeply, savoring her wine. Oscovko was quick to pour her more from his own wineskin, clearly elated to be seated between assassin and bounty hunter.
It rankled Dom, though he couldn’t say why.
“Were there any more coming through?” Andry said, leaning forward on his knees. He alone knew the true danger ahead, his stormy countenance mirroring Dom’s own.
Dom shook his head. His braids from Volaska had come undone, leaving his golden hair to flow free over his shoulders.
“No. The doors to the temple were flung wide, and the Spindle is still open, but I didn’t see anything.” He did his best to report without remembering, to speak without seeing that wretched place rise up before his eyes. “I think the Ashlands are spent, thebulk of their forces with Taristan in the south.”
Oscovko grinned, his teeth catching the firelight. “I’ll take these odds.”
“A thousand corpses is nothing to sneer at,” Andry muttered, forgetting himself. Quickly, he dipped his head. “Your Highness.”
The prince only waved him off. “I’ve sneered at worse,” he crowed. “My men are blooded fighters, all of them. You’ll find no better force upon the Ward.”
Snoring, belches, and otherwise gaseous noises echoed from the woods, rising from several hundred Treckish soldiers.
Sorasa snorted into her cup. “That is hardly true,” she said, and Dom found himself agreeing.
Oscovko shrugged off the jab, his grin growing wider. “No better force willing to fight with you, I mean.”
“Point taken,” Sorasa grumbled.
“We’re on horseback—that’s another advantage,” Corayne chirped, jumping up from her seat again.
Dom almost wanted to push her back down. Her excited, dogged nature would only get her killed, especially here. Slowly, he bent and took a seat before the fire. Even immortals faced exhaustion, and Dom certainly felt it now.
Corayne remained standing, undeterred. The fire danced at her back, turning her edges to gold. “A corpse army can’t stand against a cavalry charge.”
“They have spears,” Dom said wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face. His fingers played over his scars. They didn’t sting anymore.
“But no master,” Corayne retorted. She planted her hands onher hips and faced him down. “The Ashlanders follow Taristan and Ronin, but they aren’t here. They’re brainless, aren’t they? Certainly we can outfox a few hundred walking skeletons.”
Andry frowned. “Others had the same idea, Corayne,” he said gently.
