“They make things more difficult but not impossible.” I shift my attention to Reeve. “Reeve, select your best navigators. Only those who can move unseen and move out at first light.”
He nods. “I already have a few in mind.”
“Jude, your decoy unit must be convincing.”
He grins. “They won’t know what hit them.”
As they both turn to leave, Reeve pauses at the tent’s entrance. “Jasce,” he says, his voice low. “We’ll stop Asha.”
“I know,” I say, believing in our ability to end this war.
They depart, and I’m left alone with the maps and my thoughts. I trace the route we’ve planned, determination hardening within me.
I stand and move to the tent opening, watching the sunrise paint the sky in shades of crimson. How fitting. The color of blood. Of fire. Of the magic that flows through our veins.
Asha will never stop. She’ll keep pushing, keep destroying, keep tearing apart everything we’ve built. She’s beyond reason, beyond redemption, and her hatred has poisoned her soul so deeply that there’s nothing left of the woman who once loved her sister.
The truth settles heavy in my chest. There’s only one way to end this. One way to ensure peace between our houses.
Asha must die.
It’s not a decision I make lightly. Taking a life never is. But sometimes, to protect many, one must fall.
I return to the map table, my resolve hardening inside me. This ends now. For Annora. For our people. For the future generations who deserve better than endless war and bitter hatred.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Jasce
Darkness envelopsme as I weave through the Whispering Woods, the ancient trees muffling the sounds of my approach.
I glance back at my warriors following close behind me. We’re hunters tonight, and Asha has no idea we’re coming.
From the riverbank, a sudden uproar breaks the stillness of the night as shouts and the clash of swords echo through the air.
Jude’s decoy has begun.
“That’s our signal,” I say.
We burst out of the underbrush, descending upon Asha’s army and tearing into their ranks before they can mount a proper defense.
I engage with the first soldier to cross my path, parrying his panicked strike and running him through with a vicious thrust. He collapses without a sound, and I turn my attention to my next foe.
A Watcher attacks me, and we trade several blows. When he overreaches, I slam my blade through the weak point in his armor beneath his ribs.
As he collapses to the ground, I call on my magic, and crimson flames erupt from my palms, engulfing three of Asha’swarriors. Their screams pierce the night as they collapse, and I engage another Watcher. I feint left, then drive my knee into his gut. He stumbles, and I slam my pommel into his face. His mask cracks, blood spraying everywhere.
There will be no mercy tonight. Only justice. Only vengeance.
Two more soldiers charge at me, and I unleash a wave of flames that melts the ground beneath their feet. They sink into the molten earth, howling.
A spear thrust nearly catches my shoulder. I duck and roll, coming up with both sword and magic ready. The spearman backs away, but he’s too slow. My blade takes his hand at the wrist, and before he can scream, I engulf him in fire.
The battle continues, but all I see is Annora’s face. All I feel is the way she trembled in my arms.
I’ll burn everyone who ever tried to harm her. Kill anyone who made her sad.
Blood drips from my blade as another body falls at my feet—each death bringing me closer to avenging what they did to her.
