“No,” I screamed, and lunged for her. But it was too late—far too late, to either stop or save her. “Air, please, you must help her! She doesn’t deserve to die this way. Not for her mother’s sins, and certainly not for anything she may have been forced to do since.”

It is her wish and her command that we do not save her, the wind said. It is the only way she can help you. The only way she can make amends for everything she has done.

“Damn it, no!” I dropped to my knees and watched her fall. Tears coursed down my cheeks and splashed to the metal underneath me, glimmering as brightly as the silver on Saska’s wrist.

Hedra’s bracelets, I presumed. I wondered how she’d retrieved them, but almost immediately scratched the thought. The wind had witnessed Hedra’s burial, and it wouldn’t have been too hard for someone of Saska’s standing to convince a lower house earth witch to help her when everyone else was otherwise occupied in restoring Winterborne’s defenses. Although I did have to wonder if that earth witch had subsequently survived the retrieval.

No, the wind whispered.

I watched her fall for what seemed an interminably long time. Despite the distance growing between us, there was a clarity to the air that allowed me to see her expression. There was no fear there, just serenity and acceptance. As she drew close enough to the waves that their foam splashed across her body, she raised a hand and blew me a kiss. And then she was gone, swept into the fierce grip of the ocean, her body drawn down, deep down, by the currents and her desire to never resurface.

Something within me broke. I wrapped my arms around my body and screamed in denial and pain. It was a sound the air echoed fiercely. As the skies opened up and rain pelted down, all I wanted to do was sit there and cry for the twin I’d barely known.

But I couldn’t. Not if I wanted any hope of honoring her final wish and stopping the Irkallan’s insidious plans.

I pushed to my feet and looked around. The skies might be weeping for a sister lost, but it was also making it damn hard to find a way off the tower’s roof.

Leap, the wind said. We will deliver you safely to the ground.

This time, there was no hesitation. I ran toward the edge that overlooked Winterborne and leapt high. The wind caught me, wrapping me tightly in her cold fingers as I plummeted toward the ground. There were two figures down there standing in front of a carriage, and though it was hard to see their features through the gray curtain of rain, I had no doubt it was Kiro and Trey.

The wind checked my speed and deposited me safely on the ground, but I’d barely had a chance to drag in a relieved breath when Trey pulled me into his arms, his hug as fierce and as welcome as anything I’d ever experienced.

“Freedom, help me,” he murmured. “I think I just lost ten years of my life watching you fall like that.”

“I wasn’t falling.” I closed my eyes, briefly allowing myself to relax in the warm comfort and strength of his embrace, then gently pulled away. “The Irkallan are coming and Saska’s placed a toxin of some kind in the tank’s water, one that doesn’t need to be ingested to work.”

Kiro swore and immediately ran for the pumping station situated underneath the tower. “How long ago?” he asked, over his shoulder.

I hesitated as the wind supplied the answer. “Three hours.”

“Will the sheer volume of water being held in the tank dilute the potency of it?” Trey asked.

The wind stirred again. “Apparently not,” I said.

“Which isn’t an unexpected answer,” Kiro said. “But a frustrating one, given three hours means entirely too many people could have already been exposed to it.”

“Yes.”

Kiro opened the pump house’s main door and stalked inside. We followed, and discovered what could only be described as chaos. Bits and pieces of metal lay everywhere, and the huge pumps that were used to draw the water from the artesian well through to the filters and then up to the tank were silent. The place was dark and there were no signs of any life—and, at the very least, there should have been several people monitoring operations and a couple of guards, given the importance of this pumping station to the Upper Reaches.

“Spread out and try to find someone,” Kiro said. “I’ll contact the Forum and order an immediate shutdown of water usage in the areas covered by the tank.”

“With the pumps out of action, will people still be able to access the water?”

“Yes, because it’s gravity fed.” He made a “go” motion with his hand and then pulled an earwig out of his pocket.

I headed left, Trey went right. In the far corner, behind several large but silent machines, I found three women and two men; two of the former and one the latter wore the basic brown uniform of Winterborne’s general workers, and the other two wore guard uniforms.

“Found five people.” I checked for signs of life, even though it was obvious from the odd angles of all their necks that none had survived their encounter with Saska. “All dead.”

I moved out from behind the machines and saw Trey walking toward me.

“That must be everyone, because there’s no one else here,” he said. “Did Saska say how long we had until the Irkallan came?”

“No, just that they were on the move.” I crossed my arms, trying to ward off the chill that came from not only being soaked to the skin, but the growing sensation of doom. “Our best chance of survival is to stop them digging underneath us.”

“Which is undoubtedly why Saska was ordered to place the toxin in the water.” Trey took off his waterproof jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “They were hoping to knock out a good percentage of our witches.”

“Kill them, not knock them out.” I pulled his jacket closed but felt no warmer for it. The chill seemed to have settled into my soul.

Trey studied me, his expression troubled. “What else did Saska tell you? Because there’s a fear in you that wasn’t there before you talked to her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not catching my thoughts?”

“Only some. Perhaps that will change as we become more intimate but for now, no.”

Good. While I had every intention of telling Kiro what Saska had said regarding the only viable way to get into the hive and kill the queen, I wasn’t about to be so open with Trey. Not until it was absolutely necessary. Even if we hadn’t been involved, he wasn’t the type of man to willingly let any of his people undergo what would probably be a suicide mission. For all intents and purposes, I was currently under his command and therefore his responsibility.

“Saska was my twin sister,” I said. “She’s the reason I can command the air as well as I do. I’m the reason she was able to order the air to interact with earth to get out of that tunnel.”

“At least that explains the connection between you.” He hesitated. “Are you all right?”

“I discovered I had a blood sister and then lost her all in the past hour,” I said, shivering. “And I learned that I killed my mother. So no, I’m not all right.”

He didn’t say anything, just tugged me into his arms again and held me. That odd connection stirred, filled with a strength and warmth that flowed around and through me, bolstering my reserves.

“And the bodies in the tunnel?” he asked softly, his question whispering past my ear.

“Her daughter, and an Irkallan soldier.” I reluctantly pulled away from him and scrubbed away the tear that slid down my cheek. “Saska killed her child rather than let her remain under the queen’s rule.”

“A monstrous act in any other circumstance but this,” he said softly, “and one I fear we will have to repeat if we are to win this war.”

I didn’t reply to that statement. I didn’t even want to think about it.

“We can’t just stop them at Winterborne’s walls,” he continued. “Not this time. The fight has to be taken to them.”

“Saska said that was tried during the war. That because there’s no life in the Blacksaw Mountains, no witch will ever be able to do much damage to them.”

“Witches might not be able to, but I’m betting a fully equipped army could.”

“Aside from the fact Saska said it wouldn’t work, if that were true, wouldn’t they have tried it last time?”

“Technology has taken some dramatic leaps since then. We now have the power to blast the entire mountain away if we want to.”

“That won’t help if the bulk of the apiary is deep underground.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And is it?”

“From what Saska said, the queen and the breeders certainly are.”

He grunted. “That may or may not be a problem. Especially given we have no idea if the tunnel coming out from underneath the mountains is at the same depth as the one we found.”

“Its depth would probably depend on where the bulk of the workers and soldiers live.”

“Yes.” He glanced at Kiro briefly, who was still talking animatedly into his earwig, and then added, “That’s not our main problem, however. And it’s certainly not the one that will make us monsters.”

My throat went dry and my heart began to beat a whole lot faster. I already knew what he was going to say, because Saska had also referred to it, however obliquely.

“The children,” he added softly. “We have to find and destroy both the women who were stolen, and all the children they’ve given birth to. And we have to ensure we collect and destroy the remaining bracelets, so that they can never be used again.”

I swallowed heavily, fighting the pain and the knowledge of what was coming. Of what I’d have to do. “But—”

“With or without them, those children have been indoctrinated into Irkallan society. You saw the mental damage it caused Saska—how much worse would it be for children who were born into that environment?”

“Neither Hedra nor Pyra suffered as Saska did, though—”

“Saska suffered because she fought the orders she was being given. Neither her mother nor Pyra did.” Trey’s voice was grim. “I very much doubt the children would even be capable of it.”

There was no doubt about it—Saska had already told me that any child that showed any sort of self-awareness was killed. I was only arguing because I just didn’t want to do what I knew I would have to.

I scrubbed my hands across my eyes, smearing tears. “Have you still got the bracelet you took from your daughter?”

He frowned at the sudden change of topic. “Yes—it’s in my backpack. Why?”

I shrugged. “I just wanted to ensure it was safe.”

Before he could question me further, Kiro approached. “I’ve called in all available healers and medics from both the Lower Reaches and the outer bailey to cope with whatever levels of sickness might eventuate here in the Upper Reaches over the next twenty-four hours. I’ve also ordered an immediate meeting of the Forum.” His gaze came to mine. “You’ll have to report everything you’ve uncovered.”

“I won’t reveal my capabilities,” I said. “I’m not going to end up as little more than a serf or a damn breeder after all this is finished.”

Amusement touched his lips. “Oh, I think there’s little chance of that happening.”

“I don’t care how small the risk, I won’t do it.”

“Fair enough.” He glanced at Trey. “You’ll also be asked to report.”

“My father will just love that.”

His voice was dry, but once again, hurt shadowed the deeper recesses of his eyes. I guessed a man who’d given up everything for his child couldn’t understand his own parent not offering any level of understanding or forgiveness.

“Your father officially retired from the Forum six months ago, and won’t be present,” Kiro said. “Karl’s daughter is now acting second.”

Trey took this news with very little change in his expression, and yet I felt the annoyance—perhaps even anger—flick through him. Obviously, the rift between father and son was now so wide his brother had feared to pass on such a vital piece of information.

But better that than being in the situation of learning who your mother was only after you’d killed her….

I crossed my arms and thrust the thought away. I wouldn’t have changed my actions even if I had known Hedra was my mother, so why dwell over it? “And what’s being done about the water?”

“Engineers are on their way, and a code red alert has been issued across the Upper Reaches,” Kiro said. “Given it’s been three hours since the toxin was added to the water supply, I’ve also called out the guard to do a house by house check of inhabitants to uncover the current state of play in regard to illnesses or even deaths.”

In other words, they were currently doing all they could. We all just had to hope it would be enough.

“Neve, I know you’re soaked to the skin,” he continued, “but I’d rather you remain in your current clothes. It’ll add a sense of urgency to proceedings.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning they’ll take a bedraggled woman more seriously than they would a Nightwatch officer?”

“Yes, especially when you’re introduced as Trey’s second.” He glanced around as three men entered the pump room. “Ah, good. You’ve been apprised of the situation?”

The big man who’d entered first nodded. “We’ve got a second team closing down all the supply valves as we speak. We’re here to fix the pumps so the tower can be emptied and flushed out.”

“Excellent.” Kiro’s gaze met mine. “Ready?”

Not to face the Forum, I wasn’t, but at least I was doing it by Trey’s side. I nodded, and then took off the jacket and held it out.

“Keep it,” Trey said. “You’re shivering.”

“Yes, but it’s pointless both of us—”

“I’m hardly going to get soaked between here and the carriage,” he cut in, “so just put the coat on, Neve.”

I did, and then followed Kiro back out into the rain and the waiting vehicle. The Irkallan’s head—still wrapped in my coat—sat on the floor. Trey had barely closed the door when the carriage took off. It didn’t take us long to get to the building that housed the sitting members of the Forum, which was situated in the middle of the plateau and was a plain-looking, circular white building. It was only single story and the roof was an odd green-gray—the sort of color copper went as it aged, though I wasn’t sure the roof here was made of that material. In fact, given the sleek, shiny finish, it rather looked like glass.

On this side of the building, there were three entrances, all of which were heavily guarded. The carriage stopped directly opposite the biggest of them; Kiro motioned Trey to grab the Irkallan’s head and then climbed out. We followed. As we drew closer to the doorway, one of the guards saluted and said, “Lord Kiro, the arbitrator wishes to advise you that a quorum is now present and they are awaiting your presentation.”

Kiro nodded and continued into the building.

“A quorum?” Trey said, as we followed him into the sweeping and surprisingly large foyer. “That suggests we might have only just met minimum quota.”

“Indeed,” Kiro said. “But at least we’ve reached it, and can therefore immediately act on whatever decisions are made here this evening.”

We strode toward a set of intricately carved gold doors, our footsteps echoing on the darkly stained wooden floorboards. The doors opened as we approached, revealing a room that again was rather plain and surprisingly small. An odd light seemed to fill the room and I glanced up at the ceiling. In the place of stone, metal, or even wood, was a solid piece of green glass, and it soared gloriously over the room like the canopy of a forest. And perhaps it was the reason for the plainness elsewhere—you had no need for extravagance when such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship lay above.

The room itself was divided into two parts. The half on this side featured two rows of darkly stained wooden chairs—the back ones slightly elevated above the front—and on the other, a raised platform. A single wooden chair sat to the left of this, in which a balding man in his mid-fifties sat. Although my knowledge of how the Forum worked was only rudimentary—little more than what they taught in school, really—I knew that man was the arbitrator. It was his job to maintain order within the Forum, but he could also cast a deciding vote in the rare eventuality of such being needed. For that reason, the arbitrator never came from any of the houses, be they upper or lower, but rather from the ranks of those who—like Kiro—had personal magic, and who were well known and trusted amongst all the houses.

Almost half of the wooden chairs were occupied and, as Kiro led us up to some empty seats on the left side of the second row of seats, my gaze swept the nearby faces. I couldn’t see anyone who in any way resembled Trey.

Kiro motioned us to sit then walked back down to the floor and across to the platform. Trey tucked the Irkallan’s head under the seat and then nudged me lightly with his shoulder. When I glanced at him, he murmured, “Front row, middle seats, green cushions. My brother and his daughter.”

My gaze fell on them. Although—at least from side on—there didn’t appear to be much physical resemblance between the brothers, the young woman could have been Eluria’s sister.

“Did he acknowledge you coming in?”

“No.” Once again, his smile held a bitterness that spoke of hurt. “I think perhaps Father’s anger has infected him.”

“Maybe he simply believes the Forum is not an appropriate place for such a reunion.”

“Which is undoubtedly true. It does not, however, explain his avoidance of me over the last few days.”

I reached out and entwined my fingers through his. He squeezed them briefly then released me. Perhaps the Forum was also no place for a display of affection, however minor.

“What about the Rossi household?” I asked softly. “Who’s taken Marcus’s place here in the Forum?”

Trey discreetly pointed to seats to our left. “Who do you think?”

Jamson. I guess that was no surprise given he was heir. “Did Kiro discover who murdered Marcus?”

“It was Lida, as you suspected. She also planned to kill Saska.”

Because Saska had been pregnant with a child who, if gifted, would replace Lida’s son as heir. “I know Jamson had nothing to do with the murder, but it still stinks that he benefits—” I cut the rest of the comment off as Kiro began to speak. In a calm, emotionless voice, he told the assembly everything we’d uncovered, including the duplicity of the three women and exactly what they’d done. But he didn’t mention the Irkallan, instead calling Trey to join him on the platform and recount his part of the story. Trey did so, but again, he made no mention of the Irkallan. That task was obviously mine.

Kiro called me to the dais. I took a deep, shaky breath that did little to calm the rush of nerves, and then picked up the wrapped head and walked down. A gentle murmur followed me to the platform, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to some of the lords and ladies here recognizing me from the masque, or if it was simply because I very obviously had no right to be in such a place. I stepped onto the platform; Trey moved to one side, giving me room to stand between the two of them.

“Tell them everything distinctly and without embellishment,” Kiro murmured, as he took the Irkallan’s head from me. “From the moment the beacon was spotted to what Saska told you up on the water tower.”

I took another deep breath and did exactly that, only omitting the fact I was Nightwatch rather than a Blacklake soldier. It took forever because there was so much to tell, and by the time I’d finished my throat was dry and my skin so cold it was beginning to leech inward, forming a thick pit of ice in my stomach.

“Do you truly expect us to believe the Irkallan have been active for centuries?” a pale-skinned man sitting to the right of Trey’s brother said, “and that we’ve caught absolutely no sign of it until now?”

“Indeed,” Kiro said. “In fact, if not for the actions of both Officer March and Commander Stone, we’d still be dangerously unaware of said activity.”

“But what evidence of this do you have?” a woman at the rear said, “aside from the testimony of someone who abandoned his family and his position, and a stained soldier?”

“You’d do well to hold both your tongue and your animosity, Lia,” Trey said, voice clipped. “Especially given it was the actions of your sister that led to my leaving.”

The woman snorted. “I believe it takes two—”

“Enough,” the arbitrator said, in a voice so loud it echoed through the chamber. “We’re not here to discuss old grievances, but rather a future threat. Kiro, if you have proof, present it.”

He did so, unwrapping the Irkallan’s head and then holding it high so all could see. Once again, a murmur filled the room, but this time it was a weird mix of unease and disbelief. But then, this was the first time anyone here would have seen an Irkallan outside the pages of a history book.

“As Officer March has already said, the Irkallan’s body was found in a tunnel not far from the Blacklake outpost. The body of a child lay with it—that child was Lady Saska’s, one of many born to the witches stolen from Winterborne. This insidious plan has been in operation for centuries, my lords, and it’s now coming to fruition. The Irkallan are using their half-breeds to mine the earth and create tunnels—tunnels that not only bypass our outposts, but have, in fact, made a beeline directly to our door. The end of one such tunnel lies no more than half a mile from Winterborne’s gates—and you can thank Commander Stone for uncovering its existence this afternoon. Otherwise, we mightn’t have known about it until they were murdering us in our sleep.”

“I hardly think that possible,” another man from the front row said. “Their witches surely could not be as strong as any here.”

“If their plan to eradicate the Upper Reaches witches via poisoning had been fully successful,” Kiro noted, “they wouldn’t have needed to be.”

“There’s also the point that they’ve managed to bring a tunnel to the very feet of our wall, and none here detected it,” Trey said. “None of you have even noticed the uneasiness of the Tenterra earth, or the fact there are now large areas of deadness—a deadness that bleeds out from the Blacksaw Mountains itself.”

“You’re well aware our focus has been on the Gallion farmlands on which this place survives,” another bit back. “We can’t be blamed—”

“No one is blaming anyone,” Kiro said. “We’re merely stating unpalatable facts.”

“It seems to me we have two major problems right now,” a new voice said. I glanced to the left and saw it was Karl, Trey’s brother. “The first being how do we stop them at our gates if their tunneling deadens the earth and prevents us interacting with it. The second is whether we even have enough firepower to dig them out from under their mountains.”

“According to Lady Saska,” I said. “We do not.”

His gaze came to me; the green depths were so familiar and yet so foreign it sent a shiver down my spine. “And are we to believe the words of a woman who was in thrall to the Irkallan queen? A woman who is responsible for an attempted mass poisoning, and who might yet be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people?”

“Don’t forget she did tell me about the toxin, even against the queen’s orders,” I countered. “And she’s also the only reason we know about the tunnels.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and again it was familiar and yet not.

“What exactly did Lady Saska tell you about any attack on the Blacksaw Mountains?” Kiro asked.

I glanced at him; in his pale eyes, I saw the awareness of secrets being kept. I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Now was not the time to hold back—at least not on something that would have major implications for any action taken. “She said that you can attack the mountains for all you’re worth, but you won’t destroy the Irkallan. The apiary lies too deep underground to be affected by weapons, and any attempt to invade on foot would be similarly doomed, not just because of the tunnels’ close quarters, but because of their sheer numbers.”

“But she would say that,” Karl said, even as Kiro asked, “Did she offer any solution to that problem.”

“She did.” And he knew it. I could see the knowledge in his eyes, and the determination that lay underneath it. He might not know what she’d said, but he was well aware there was more to her warning than what I’d already admitted.

“And?” he asked, when I didn’t immediately go on.

I crossed my arms, but it did little against the invading cold or the deep sense of inevitability that was beginning to flow through me. The air stirred around me, offering me comfort, offering me strength, but never once offering me hope.

“She said if we wished to destroy them, there was only one way to do so.” I hesitated, well aware of tension gathering in the man standing to my left. It was a tension that flowed through me, heated and angry—not at me, but at the situation and fate. At what he obviously guessed might be coming. “She said the only way to avoid detection was to send one person—and only one—into the apiary.”

“No.” Trey’s response was immediate and explosive.

“And is that person you?” Kiro said.

“Yes,” I said. “Because it turns out that Saska and I were not only sisters, but twins. The fact that my DNA is so similar to both hers and Hedra’s—our mother—will me to give me the chance to slip inside when they will scent all others.”

“That is madness—”

“Indeed, it is.” I met Trey’s furious gaze evenly. “But it’s a madness Saska believed, and one I also do. There is no other option. Not if we wish to keep Winterborne and all we hold dear safe.”

“Thank you, Officer March,” Kiro said, before Trey could say anything else. “We’ll now have to discuss options, so I’ll ask you wait in the foyer.”

Summarily dismissed, I left the platform and walked out of the room. Trey’s gaze followed my retreat. I knew without looking it was fierce, filled with anger and frustration, even if the rest of his expression was remote. Knew it because it was a river of emotion that flowed through me, amplifying my own fears and uncertainty.

I somehow made it out the door without giving in to that flood of emotion, but once the doors closed, the trembling began. I staggered across to the small seating area to the left of the main door, then dropped my head between my knees and sucked in air.

They were going to approve the plan. I had absolutely no doubt of that. Those who lived and ruled here in the Upper Reaches were a practical lot, and if there was any chance that one lone, unimportant unlit soldier could do what an army could not, then they’d order it done. No doubt there would be soldiers, equipment, and witches on standby should I fail, but they would nevertheless take the chance that Saska wasn’t entirely mad, that her words held some grains of truth, and thereby risk only one life rather than many.

But the thought of going to into that mountain and roaming through the tunnels alone and without any sort of assistance filled me with a fear unlike anything I’d ever known.

You will not be alone, the voices said. This time, it was both the whispering wind and the more sober, earthy tones of the earth. We will be with you.

Which was good to hear, but it didn’t help the fear. Because if something went wrong down there, I’d die alone. And for any Nightwatch officer, that was perhaps the worst of all fates.

Neither the wind nor the earth had a reply to that. After a few more minutes, I pushed back in the seat, rested my head against the wall, and closed my eyes. And though I didn’t think I’d sleep given the turmoil and the fear, I did.

Hours passed, and night became day. Eventually the assembly room doors opened and people began to stream out. Most of them ignored me, but a couple of them—including Trey’s brother—did at least glance my way and give me a nod.

Kiro and Trey were in the last group to come out of the room. Trey’s gaze almost immediately came to mine, but his expression was guarded and he didn’t say anything. Kiro was talking animatedly to a man dressed in gold—the color of the Hawthorn ruling house.

I pushed up from the chair as they neared. The stranger looked my way and gave me a tight smile. “I wish you luck, Officer March. Much seems to rest on your young shoulders.”

With that, he strode out of the room. I glanced at Kiro. “So it’s been approved?”

“In theory, yes. There are still many finer details to be worked out, however.”

“Saska said the Irkallan were coming. I don’t think we have the time—”

“You’re not going out there alone and unsupported,” Trey growled. “I don’t care how close the Irkallan are, we’ll at least ensure you have a fighting chance of getting in and getting out.”

“Which is nice sentiment but one that could yet prove costly—”

“You are currently under my command, and therefore my responsibility, March.” His tone was that of a commander, not a lover. “I’ve never sent a soldier into a situation without first ensuring all eventualities have been considered and every chance has been given for a positive outcome. I’m certainly not doing so now.”

He might have conceded the necessity of me doing this, but he was far from happy about it. That, at least, was something we both agreed on. I returned my gaze to Kiro. “So, what happens next?”

“You go rest. I’ve already ordered the Nightwatch to your suite at the Rossis’ to ensure no one comes in or out while you do so.”

“And what about the Irkallan? And the tunnel? What plans are being made to counter both?”

“As I said, they still need refining. We currently await the arrival of the remaining outpost commanders.”

“But the Irkallan—”

“Sensors are being placed under the soil as we speak. We’ll know soon enough if they’re coming,” Kiro said. “Even if the Irkallan’s witchlings are currently working on that tunnel, it could still take them days to reach the wall, and possibly even weeks to burrow under both it and the subterranean levels. Our counteractions will more than likely begin tomorrow.”

We dare not wait until tomorrow, the wind whispered. We do not know how long we have until the Irkallan queen realizes Saska has fallen. We have a limited window in which to act.

Which was undoubtedly true, but I wasn’t about to leave Winterborne without at least saying goodbye to those I cared about. And if I were to have any hope of achieving the task Saska had set me, then I also had to be at my peak, both physically and mentally, and that meant I needed to eat and rest.

I crossed my arms, my fists clenched against the desire to reach out for the man who stood so close. To ask him to wrap his arms around me and keep the gathering darkness at bay, if only for a few precious minutes. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep right now—”

“Try,” Trey said. “Because you’ll need every ounce of strength to survive what comes.”

And survive you must. He didn’t say that out loud, but I heard it nevertheless.

“Then I’ll need some sort of potion to do so,” I continued, voice flat. “There’s altogether too much going through my mind right now.”

“I’ll order a healer to attend your suite.” Kiro glanced at Trey. “We must go. Neve, we’ll drop you off—”

“Thanks, but I’ll walk,” I said. “I’m so cold now that it won’t matter, and I need the fresh air after being stuck here for so long.”

“Yes.” Kiro paused. “I apologize for that. I should have asked for food and wine to be brought to you.”

I shrugged. “I’m not going to fade away for lack of a meal.”

“No, but you could have caught a chill and that—”

“Is the least of my problems right now. Go make your plans, Lord Kiro. I’ll be waiting to play my part.”

He nodded and walked out the door. Trey didn’t immediately follow. Instead, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and said, “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you survive this. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded but didn’t say anything. Everything he could do wouldn’t be enough, and we both knew it. The earth and the air wouldn’t be so silent if there was a sliver of hope.

He studied me for a moment longer, then dropped his hand and followed Kiro out the door. I waited until the carriage had left then walked out into the cold light of day. Though it had finally stopped raining, the air held a bitterness that cut me to the quick, adding to the ice already lying inside.

I resolutely made my way through the Upper Reaches and down the winding road that led to the outer bailey. Goodbyes were in order, and though I managed to keep hold of my emotions, April nevertheless sensed there was something amiss.

“Are you okay?” he said, as I pulled away from his hug.

“Yes. It’s just that this is the first time we’re taking the fight to the Adlin’s home ground, and I’m feeling a little antsy. You know how it is.”

It seemed safer to say it was the Adlin rather than the Irkallan, given the truth behind the attacks hadn’t yet been released to the wider public—and maybe never would.

“Yeah, and I’m wishing right now I was sharing those prefight jitters. Pisses me off no end I’m stuck in here while you and Ava get all the action.”

“Tell you what, I’ll kill a couple of them in your name.” That, at least, was one promise I could keep.

“Excellent.” He squeezed my hand and then released me. “I won’t say be careful because you always are. I will say that you owe me a full recap over several beers once I get out of here.”

“Done deal.” I stepped back, hesitated, then bid him goodbye before he could see or sense the tears that were threatening to fall.

It had to be close to midday by the time I made it back to the Rossi household. The halls were empty and silent, and there was no music or laughter flowing from the other end of the building—which was no surprise given most would currently be asleep after partying all night.

Ava and Ranel were standing guard at the door into the suite Trey and I had been assigned.

“About time you appeared,” Ava grumbled as she hit the door-open button. “The healer’s been waiting for over half an hour. Where the hell have you been?”

“I went down to check on April. I didn’t think the healer would arrive so soon.”

“Well, he did, and he’s pretty annoyed.” Her gaze swept me. “You don’t look ill—everything all right?”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s just that I need to grab some sleep and I’m thinking I’ll need some chemical help to do so.”

“Ah,” she said. “So what’s going on? The bastards really haven’t told us much. We don’t even know what happened to Gen and Luc.”

“They’re dead, I’m afraid. Lady Saska tossed them over the cliff.”

“I hope the bitch pays for that,” Ranel said.

That bitch was my sister… but I kept the words inside and simply said, “She did. She’s dead.”

Ava frowned. She might not be able to read my mind, but she knew me better than any person alive and I had no doubt she could see the sadness within me.

“There’s something else going on, isn’t there?” she said. “Something big.”

“There’s a major assault being planned,” I said. “One that involves not only both the Night and Day watches, but also all the outposts.”

“Then I hope to hell we’re not stuck here,” Ranel growled. “I’ll be royally annoyed if we miss out on that sort of action.”

A smile touched my lips. “April said much the same thing.”

“I can just imagine.” Ava still looked concerned, but she didn’t give it voice, just stepped back and opened the door. “You’d better get inside and grab some rest. We’ve orders to let no one else in now except Commander Stone or Lord Kiro.”

“Good.” I gave her a quick hug, said a silent goodbye, and then went inside.

A thin-faced man in his mid-forties rose from one of the cloudsaks. “About time, Lady Neve—”

“I’m sorry for the delay,” I said. “Did Lord Kiro explain what I’m after?”

“He said a sleeping draught—correct?”

I nodded, my heart beating a little faster. “And a fairly strong one, if you have it. I want an uninterrupted eight hours rest.”

“That, at least, is an easy request.” He opened the satchel he was carrying and plucked a vial of clear liquid free. “This should do the trick—it’ll work in a matter of minutes, and keep you asleep for at least eight hours.”

“So I take the whole vial?”

“Yes.” He handed it over, then closed his bag and said, “Anything else?”

“No.” I hesitated. “Has there been much of a fallout from the toxin being placed in the water?”

“Numerous deaths in the ranks of the serving class, but only three so far from the ruling houses. Plenty showing unpleasant and possibly deadly symptoms, however, so I’ll bid you a good day, and be off.”

“Thanks for waiting.”

He nodded as he left. I glanced down at the vial in my hand then placed it down on the coffee table and walked across to the discreetly placed buzzer to one side of the main door and kept my fingers crossed our maidservant was one of the ones who’d survived. It seemed luck was on my side and hers, because a few seconds after I pressed the buzzer, she appeared.

“What can I do you for, my lady?”

“I’d like a large platter of meats, breads, and cheese, please. And some wine, too.” I hesitated. “What’s the water situation like here? Do we have any?”

She nodded. “The Rossi are one of three upper houses that disconnected from the old tower’s supply after installing their own tanks fifteen years ago. I believe a temporary pump system has been set up so we can supply water to the rest of the houses.”

“Ah, good. Thanks.”

She nodded again and disappeared. I walked back over to the cloudsaks and sat down. If I wanted to obey the wind and leave tonight, then I had to do two things aside from getting as much rest as I could today. The first was to get hold of both a speeder and weapons, as having both would conserve my strength getting to the Blacksaw Mountains and give me options for destroying the apiary once I was inside.

If I got inside, that was.

The other thing I had to do was convince Trey it had to be done my way, not his.

To achieve the first, I’d have to talk to Kiro. It would be the quickest and easiest way to get what I needed, as his word was the next-best thing to law, at least around here.

The second, however, was likely to prove impossible.

I eyed the small vial uneasily. Using it might just break something that was both new and fragile, but did that really matter given survival was highly unlikely?

It was a question I really didn’t want to answer, even if part of me was screaming that of course it did.

I closed my eyes and tried to rest as I waited for the maid to return with my meal. I must have drifted, because when I opened my eyes, there was a tray of covered meats and a bottle of red on the table, and the fading light streaming in through the windows suggested dusk wasn’t very far away.

I poured myself a glass of wine and ate my fill of the breads and meats. There was still plenty left on the platter, but that was good as I needed some sustenance for my journey. Once I’d finished, I wrapped the remaining breads and cheeses in a large waterproof cloth and tucked them away for later, then slipped the sleeping draft down the side of the sofa where Trey was unlikely to see it. With that done, I stripped off, had a shower, and then headed into the sleeping chamber. The bed Pyra had shattered had been replaced as Trey had ordered, but there were still too many memories of her actions left in the pitted walls and flooring.

I tried to ignore them and crawled under blankets where, despite the turmoil and the belief that I wouldn’t sleep, I did.

The room was wrapped in darkness when I awoke. For several minutes I simply lay there, listening to the howl of the wind outside but hearing no voices within her. The suite itself was silent and I had no sense that anyone was near.

I climbed out of bed and walked into the living area. As I did, the main door opened and Trey entered. He smiled when he saw me, but it held little of its usual vigor, and the redness in his eyes was matched by the weariness that cloaked him.

“You look worn out,” I said as I walked toward him.

“It’s been a rather long twenty-four hours.”

He caught my hand and pulled me into his arms. For a moment, neither of us said anything. We simply enjoyed the comfort of each other’s presence.

“So,” I said eventually, “what decisions have been made?”

“I leave at dawn for Blacklake. The attack is timed for midmorning as that’s the earliest we outpost commanders believe we can get supplies ready and our forces moving.”

“So you’re attacking en masse?”

“No. We’ll cross the river from our various positions and attack the apiary’s known exits on several fronts. Winterborne will send a force into the Adlin homelands to stop any sleuths from answering a call to arms by the Irkallan queen. Hopefully by attacking them on so many fronts we’ll draw their attention away from Drakkon’s Head, and give you the chance to slip in, find and destroy those kids and the queen, and then lay the charges and get out.”

“But what if the queen orders the kids into battle?”

“I doubt she’ll risk their use unless absolutely necessary. Not if she has as many soldiers as Saska claimed.”

Part of me hoped he was right. But the other half—the selfish half that didn’t want to the responsibility of ending the lives of so many children, even if they were indoctrinated into the enemy’s way of life—hoped otherwise.

I pulled away from his embrace and studied him again. “You look as though you’re in desperate need of a hot meal.”

He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “I am. All I’ve had is coffee.”

“Then go clean up and I’ll order us both something. The water here is safe—apparently the Rossi have their own supply.”

“Excellent.”

He dropped a kiss on my lips then headed for the bathroom. Once he’d disappeared behind the partially drawn curtain, I poured two glasses of red and then retrieved the sleeping potion. With that poured into one of the glasses, I called for the maid and ordered our meal.

By the time he’d freshened up, the thick, delicious-smelling stew and freshly baked bread had arrived. I picked up the two glasses of red as he walked toward me, a towel wrapped around his hips and tiredness still riding him. It made me feel a little less guilty about what I was doing.

But only a little.

I smiled and handed him the wine that held the potion, and then lightly clicked my glass against his. “To a successful mission and a safe return.”

“Amen to that.” And he downed the wine in several gulps.

I poured him another, then dished out our meals and sat beside him on the double cloudsak. While it was a comfortable silence, tension nevertheless ran through me—an undercurrent that wasn’t helped by the stirring air and the urgency that was becoming stronger within it.

Trey was struggling to keep his eyes open by the time he’d finished his meal. “This,” he said, with a huge yawn, “is definitely not the way I’d imagined the evening going.”

I chuckled softly and plucked the bowl from his hands before he could drop it. “Me neither, but we have all night and I’d rather you sleep now than tomorrow on the battlefield.” I placed both bowls on the table, then rose and offered him my hands. “Come along, Commander. Time for you to hit the bed.”

He allowed me to pull him up and leaned on me heavily as I helped him across the room. “I don’t know what’s hit me,” he murmured. “I’ve taken part in more than my fair share of war councils over the years, and while I’ve been tired, it’s never been this bad.”

“This sort of thing happens when you get old.” I forced a smile and hoped he didn’t sense the gathering guilt. “Or so I’m told.”

He snorted softly. “You make me sound ancient.”

“When I was a teenager, anything over thirty was ancient.”

I pulled off his towel, then pulled back the sheets and sat him down—although in truth, he all but fell down. I swung his legs onto the mattress and tugged the sheets back over him. His eyes drifted closed, and in seconds he was asleep.

I bent over and brushed a kiss across his lips.

“Goodbye, Trey,” I said softly. “Please don’t think ill of me in the morning. I’m only doing what has to be done.”

I pushed away from him, pushed away my emotions, and strode into the other room. Once dressed, I hunted down his pack and checked the bracelet was still there, then refilled his water flask and placed it and the wrapped cheese and bread into it. I strapped my sword onto the outside of the pack, my knife to my leg, and then swung the pack onto my back. With a deep breath but no backward glance, I strode to the door and opened it.

“Neve,” Ava said, surprise flitting across her face. “I thought the commander said you weren’t to be disturbed?”

I grimaced. “Change of plans, unfortunately. Can you contact Lord Kiro and tell him that I’ll be at the Upper Reaches gates in ten minutes?”

She nodded and did so. “He sounded somewhat surprised,” she said, after a few seconds. “But he’ll be there. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yes.” I gave her a quick hug. “If you’re assigned to the Adlin attack party tomorrow, please be careful.”

“Ditto, sister.”

“Always,” I said, and left.

Kiro was already waiting by the gates before I arrived there. His gaze swept me then rose to mine. “I’m gathering you’ve chosen a very separate path to what either Trey or I had planned.”

“Yes.” I stopped in front of him. “According to the wind, there’s a limited window in which I can get into the apiary unnoticed. I need to be there by sunrise if this attack is to have any chance of success.”

“Meaning, I’m gathering, the potion the healer gave to you was given to Trey?”

I nodded. “He’ll wake with dawn.”

“The wind’s advice isn’t to be taken lightly, so it is perhaps for the best,” he said. “But he’ll be far from happy with your actions.”

“I know.” I hesitated. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

He eyed me but didn’t say what most would have—that I could tell him myself when all this was over. Kiro was a realist—as his next words proved. “What do you wish of me?”

“I need explosives, guns, and a speeder.”

He immediately activated the earwig and ordered the supply of all three. Once he’d signed off, he added, “Go to armory five and collect what you need. The speeder is being prepped and will be waiting by the time you’re kitted up.”

“Thanks.”

He gripped my shoulder lightly. “May the wind give you speed and the earth grant you passage back. And thank you, Neve March.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything, simply because there was nothing I could say. We both knew this was more than likely a one-way trip, and wishing it otherwise wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Which didn’t mean I wouldn’t give everything I had to survive, but Kiro wasn’t the only realist standing in this street.

I walked on down the hill. The wind chased my heels, her whisperings filled with the urgent need to be gone. Armory five was situated at the midway point of the inner curtain wall, just to the right of the gates and close to where Hedra had died. A soldier I didn’t recognize waited at the door.

“Nightwatch March?” When I nodded, he added, “Captain July has given orders that you’re to be given as much weaponry and explosives as you need.”

“Excellent.” I swung the pack off my shoulder and followed him inside. “I need a couple of gut busters, ammo, and some form of explosives that are basically set and forget.”

He grunted. “You want a big boom or a little one?”

“Big.” I hesitated. “Although a couple of smaller ones wouldn’t go astray. I also want reasonably stable, as I don’t want to blow myself up before I get to my target.”

“Then the M185 blocks are probably best for the bigger blast. They have the power to blow up a mountain if you put enough of them together, but are quite harmless until you put the detonation timer into it.”

“How long will I have to get out once I do that?”

He hesitated. “The longest timers I have on hand are twenty minutes, but I think there’s—”

“Twenty minutes will do,” I cut in. I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Not when the wind was beginning to hassle me again. “What about the smaller booms? I think I’ll need something stronger than grenades.”

Given the toughness of the Irkallan’s exoskeleton and the fact grenades were primarily designed to damage via concussion and shrapnel, it was probably safe to presume they wouldn’t actually cause enough damage to stop more than a couple of them. Grenades worked just fine on Adlin, but no text I’d ever read had mentioned their usefulness against the Irkallan.

“I’ve got a dozen or so NP10 balls,” he said. “Team them with the pop cap primers and you’ve basically got a grenade with a more deadly boom.”

“Three or four of those would be perfect.”

He nodded. “And the M185 blocks?”

I frowned. “How big are they? I need to carry them a fair way.”

“They not large. You can probably get six in that pack of yours easy enough.”

I handed him the pack. “Fill her up then.”

He chuckled softly and did so. Once he’d shown me how to insert the detonator and set the timer on the blocks, and how to use the cap primers, I threw the pack on and then clipped the two gut busters and several ammo clips onto my utilities belt. I would have loved more, but I had to be able to move with a decent amount of silence and speed. I signed for everything, thanked the soldier, and then headed out. As Kiro had promised, the speeder had been brought up from the underground level and was waiting in the middle of the outer bailey. Captain July was standing beside it.

“Haven’t been told what your assignment is, March,” he said, his raspy tones filled with the concern I could see in his expression, “but take care. I hate losing good soldiers.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

He nodded and stepped back. I climbed into the speeder, stowed the pack, then claimed the driver seat and hit the start button. As the Captain ordered the gate opened, I closed the door and strapped in.

But as I waited for the huge gates to open, fear stirred anew.

I might be Nightwatch; I might have been trained from a very early age to follow orders and fight, no matter what the odds or the cost, but right now I was also as scared as hell.

But my sister and my mother had left me with no other option; I had to do this alone. I just had to hope that Saska was right, that because we were twins and our DNA was similar, the Irkallan wouldn’t be alarmed if they sensed my presence in their tunnels.

But I also had to hope I could find the strength to do what had to be done when it came to those children.

Anything else beyond that was a bonus, and that included finding the queen and bringing the mountain down on top of the apiary itself. Survival would be a miracle, and something I was realistically not even hoping for.

As the gates opened wide enough for the speeder to pass through, I pressed the accelerator and headed out into the darkness of the Tenterra dustbowl.