Jalla swooped low over the Crescent Legion, dragon fire falling upon the ranks of archers. As with the previous passes, overlapping fire wards guarded against the inferno. Working in unison link, Jalla, Ascania, and the second officer put up lightning wards against the spellcraft that shot up to answer them.

    Right behind Jalla, Grimdar fell upon the Melcian soldiers. He roared and struck out with his claws, flinging armsmen and clouds of soil into the air with every blow. He could only remain on the ground for moments before arcanists turned their magic against him, and he was forced back into the sky.

    The Gladiator and the Historian climbed for altitude. Behind them, they left a unit of Melcians in disarray, but the casualties they'd inflicted had been minimal. For the last hour of combat, the other dragon formations hadn't had much more luck than theirs. More than seventy dragons swarming over the Crescent Legion, and Shan Alee was unable to overcome the wards.

    "We're not breaking through," Ban growled. "They've figured out how to rotate arcanists for their wards. They're spreading their formation out so we can't catch more than a single company in a pass. Waves take them, but they learned the lessons they needed to since Moran Valley."

    Ban kept near the center of Jalla's back where he wouldn't get in the crew's way. He remained standing during the turns, making himself the fixed point others in the sky could look to and know their marshal was with them. As Kastus had taught him, morale won more battles than swords ever did.

    Kastus was a demon thrall and a traitor, Ban reminded himself. Don't fall back into worshipping the man again. Use what he gave and move on.

    Krayson ran to Ban from where he'd been staying by Ascania's side. He didn't need a harness, orienting his lost gravity magic so that Jalla would always be down compared to him. Ban was starting to envy Krayson's new spellcraft.

    "Marshal, word from Saveen!"

    "Let's hear it."

    "The delegation arrived at camp safely. They met no resistance from Zoputan. Lost Company Tribe scouts report a large force of Melcian militia is three leagues north of here."

    Ban scowled. "How large?"

    "Two thousand strong. A hundred light cavalry. Fourteen batteries of ballistae."

    "Omolade put out the call for reinforcements," Ban thought aloud. "Militia won't hold against aerial assault for long. Just two or three passes from one of our formations will send them running back to Adezu, but the ballistae... Those will pose a serious threat. Is there an estimate for how long until they arrive?"

    "My lord, they're not coming here. They've formed ranks on the northern road and are holding."

    Ban went to the wing lookout. "Crewman, your spyglass."

    As they banked through a long turn, Ban scanned the north. The terrain kept him from getting a clear look at the reinforcements, but he saw what looked like groups of men working on a line of rolling hills a good ways up the road towards Melcia.

    "They're blockading us," Ban muttered. "The mighty stray too close to them, they'll hit us with a storm of artillery fire. Each battery has ten ballistae, and you can just bet they've called in some crack shots to work them."

    "Will they have the range to hit us in the air?" Krayson asked.

    "Not so long as we stay above five thousand paces," Ban replied, "but that's too high to be of much use to the legion, and our ground forces won't be able to punch through that many militia in short order. Omolade must think she'll be able to break through us to reach them, but we can't let Omolade reach those lines. If she does, she'll keep the batteries armed and alongside her all the way to the Reach. We'll have lost her."

    Ban tossed his harness tether to some crewmen and leaned out over Jalla's side. He wasn't near as bold as Enfri was with this sort of maneuver. She'd tip over until she was practically parallel with the ground. Ban was only able to carefully lean a slight bit before he grew too dizzy. Enfri got away with it for being so floundering small. Ban would probably drag half the crew over the side with him if he made the same attempt.

    The fey were holding admirably against the Melcian battle line. Once the Crescent Legion started moving, the orcs hadn't needed Fallen's orders to respond effectively. The other orc empty ones positioned the clans right in their path, moving swifter over the uneven terrain than any mortal could match. Once engaged, the orcs fought with ferocity tempered by discipline.

    The ogres supported the orc lines, acting as cavalry and preventing the Crescent Legion from surrounding the orcs. They rushed in wherever the Melcian lines were faltering, punching deep into the formation before withdrawing again. Goblins kept mobile on the outskirts of the battle, harrying withdrawing units and inflicting heavy casualties.

    Ban smirked as he peered through the spyglass at the ground. "They were so focused on countering the mighty, they left themselves open to the fey. They're too spread out to get through our lines."

    As Ban watched, ranks of armsmen from House Yora, Karst, Ulthred, and Strom formed up behind the orcs and moved in to relieve them. The orcs fell back to tend their wounded and recover their wind. Ban saw the armsmen of other Aleesh houses taking position in the reserves. He also noted several squads wearing the colors of House Nolaas.

    Starra's family doesn't dawdle around when it comes time to pitch in, Ban thought. He'd have to remember to pass along a commendation to Lord Seifer.

    Krayson joined Ban. He merely stepped over and stuck to Jalla's side. Even his robe ignored the regular pull of gravity. "It appears our legion is working well in tandem with the fey."

    "Hammer and anvil," Ban said. He signaled the crewmen to pull him back. Once he had his balance again, he returned the borrowed spyglass and secured his tether to the harness. "The Melcians still have us outnumbered, but so long as mortals and fey work together, we have them outmatched."

    The dragons wouldn't be the deciding factor of this fight, not while Omolade kept her troops spread out and protected by wards. That meant Ban wasn't of much use in the air. He needed his boots on the ground. Ban went up to the rider's position.

    "We need to head down," he said to Ascania. Ban found a hill a short distance north of the battle lines with good vantage. A large group of men on horseback and a pair of green dragons gathered on the southern slope. "Drop me off there. That must be where Hugin's set up."

    Ascania's eyes were wide and frightened— near to full panic. "And what then?"

    Ban felt guilty for conscripting her into battle so suddenly. Her aviators weren't the veterans that the other crews in the formation were, and Ascania wasn't a paladin. He felt it was long past time he removed his mother from the field. "Link up with the Citrine Knights," he told her. "Help them ferry the wounded to base camp."

    Moon's head whipped towards him. "Marshal!"

    Ban sighed. He ought to have expected some resistance from her. "Opal Knight, if I could beg the assistance of your first officer? Mine is still on the Gladiator."

    Ascania glanced towards Moon, lingering on her abdomen. She looked back to Ban. "She's the one who should be furthest from all this."

    "I'm not going to the battle line, ma," Ban said. "I don't even have my armor. We'll stay with the command group. Strange as it might seem, that's probably the safest spot inside three leagues."

    Ascania didn't look fully convinced, but she knew a futile argument when she saw one. She leaned forward in the saddle to call to Jalla. Within moments, they came in for a landing beside the foot of the hill.

    Ban gestured for Krayson to follow, then he and Moon climbed down Jalla's fore leg. They made their way up the hill to the horsemen at a swift walk. As they went, Grimdar touched down just long enough for Jin to leap off his back. While the Historian flew southwest towards camp, the Gladiator flew to link up with the Ulthred and his Garnets.

    "Ban," Jin called as she reached him. "I left Knight-Lieutenant Natanya in command. I thought myself to be of more use on the ground."

    "Agreed," Ban said, nodding to her. "How did this happen, Jin? We made every precaution. Darian was under watch since his stunt hijacking Pacifica and Krayson's ride into the dunes. Rav swears on the ashes of all his ancestors there's no way he sent a message."

    Jin shook her head. "Then Darian did not betray us. Lord Rav would not speak with such certainty if it was possible."

    "If not him, who?" Ban asked.

    "It is probable Darian is not the one actually committing the act. He could be giving orders to another, his agent in our ranks."

    Ban scowled. "Remember the days when spies had the decency to work alone, and you could trust the general across the field to act with honor?"

    "There were never such days," Jin said quietly.

    "Yeah, well, there should've been. Then it wouldn't seem so floundering impossible to bring them back."

    "It is how we face the impossible that our resolve is tested," Jin said. Ban heard a note of anger in how she said it.

    "You alright, Jin?" he asked.

    Jin's frown deepened. "This should not have happened."

    "We did all we could. They played their cards before we even sat at the table."

    "Something could have been done," Jin said. "I could have done something."

    Ban's ether pulled at him again, insistent. He pushed it aside, certain of what Jin meant by that without the aid of magic. "Kill Omolade, you mean? Send you into their camp to do what royal assassins do best?"

    Jin gave the slightest of shrugs. "That may have been an option to consider."

    Ban could forgive her being angry enough to say reckless things.

    Moon kept her eyes ahead, but her posture suggested she was paying very close attention to Jin at the moment. "Her eyes sight black," Moon murmured.

    "Black as black gets, my friend," Jin agreed. "They should have listened. Now, all of us will suffer for Omolade's shortsightedness."

    "What do you think Zoputan meant?" Ban asked. "About Adeyemi and Omolade. The king wouldn't have been wounded at Moran Valley, would he?"

    Jin's brow knit together as she shook her head. "No. If he had been, we would have known. Nkeoma would have known. Whatever is at play within House Akazewi, it came after Nkeoma's capture."

    "Has white-scented empty one been ended?" Moon asked.

    "Zoputan looked to be in mourning," Jin replied. "It seems the Warrior King has died, and his heir has assumed the throne of Melcia. However, until we learn more, I would not dare to guess."

    Ban watched Jin out of the corner of his eye. She saw and dropped her gaze to the ground.

    "Forgive me, Ban. My anger is too new to show Adeyemi the respect he deserves. He... was as an uncle to me. I would prefer to remember him in that way, but I cannot right now. Not while I can only think on what he has forced us to become."

    Made sense. Ban didn't exactly have kind thoughts for Adeyemi at the moment either. Time could possibly change that, though his house hadn't been as close to Adeyemi as the Algaras were.

    They reached the hilltop. Hugin was the only man in armor without a horse. Nooka sat on his haunches beside where the legion officers conferred, and the Artificer towered above the younger green nearby.

    "The First Knight, love," Nooka said as Ban approached.

    Hugin raised his head from a table of maps only briefly. "My lord."

    "Have a plan for dealing with the Militia?" Ban asked.

    When Hugin sighed, it sounded like an avalanche coming down in distant mountains. "Save positioning our reserves to guard our rear, there is little I see to be done for them, Marshal."

    Ban came to the maps and gave them a quick once over. "We have to make certain none of our formations wander close to that. It looks like we're doing well with holding Omolade back from linking with the militia, but once her reinforcements see she's having trouble breaking away, they'll try something desperate."

    Hugin nodded grimly. "Desperate officers either do something stupid or brilliant, but when you're dealing with unseasoned levies who've never seen a battle before, it's more likely to be the former."

    Jin spared the maps the briefest of glances before she went to look out over the battlefield. "Whether stupid or brilliant, it will lead to a bloodbath. The militia will not advance without the cover of their ballistae. The mighty will be unable to effectively drive them back."

    Krayson and Moon went to stand with Jin. Moon pointed something out to the other two, prompting Jin to request a spyglass from one of Hugin's officers.

    "The militia's the weakest force on the field, my lord," Hugin said, pointing at the forces arrayed on his map. "Weak as they are, the whole battle could be decided on what they do next."

    Ban considered the options. Best case scenario was if the militia stayed right where they were. If the battle on the road continued as it was going, Omolade would eventually be forced into a rout and could be captured if they played their cards right. However, if the militia tried pulling their new queen out of the dragon fire, Ban needed a counter in place before they made the attempt.

    "Hugin, how are current lines holding?"

    After hearing the reports from the other Emerald Knight present, Hugin told Ban that they'd just sent in fresh units of armsmen from House Strom and Yora. The next warriors in the rotation would be the rested orcs of Frozen Waters and Black Rise.

    Ban saw his best course of action, one that would turn the militia away from any advance to reinforce Omolade. "Let's bring the Garnets down from the sky. They're not doing much good as they are, so they'll take the orcs' place in the rotation. We'll have Fallen lead her people up this gulley alongside the road. They can advance on the batteries under cover."

    Hugin grunted. "They'll be within the field of fire and unable to charge over this open meadow between them and the militia lines."

    "Won't need to," Ban said. "They just need to stay in the gulley and remind everyone where they are. The militia officers will be busy looking at them and not their queen. There won't be as much enthusiasm about rushing to Omolade's defense when there's two clans worth of orcs in the way."

    "Putting their sorcerer in check," Hugin said murmured with a nod. "They could sacrifice the pawn, but they lose their last free piece on the board."

    The officers started grinning amongst themselves, confident in another victory for the empress' legion. Ban wasn't so quick to declare himself the winner just yet. Zoputan appeared to have blundered himself into an impossible situation, and his only gambits were easily countered by Ban's forces.

    Those specific forces. Fey in the center key positions. Dragons in the sky. Armsmen...

    Ban saw something wrong with how the mortal armsmen were arranged. By the tenants of deployment used by Altieri generals for the past hundred years, the formations were prudent for a mixed force. Yet still, Ban felt a nagging sensation. Not quite a pull at his insight, but something was there. Waves, but he was getting a bad feeling about this.

    Zoputan and Omolade had something still up their sleeves. They must have.

    It was almost a relief when Jin called to him and pulled him out of his paranoia. "Ban, a rider approaches!"

    Ban nodded to Hugin before going to Jin's side. She handed over the spyglass and provided her arm for him to sight along. Ban followed her gesture to a single rider.

    "Is white-scented blue," Moon said.

    "It is Nkeoma," Ban said. "What in the name of tides is she doing?"

    Krayson crossed his arms. "She comes without escort. It looks like she skirted the battle, coming from where the Melcian command group is."

    Hugin heard and came alongside Ban. "Might she be bringing terms, my lord?"

    Ban furrowed his brow over a deep frown and handed the spyglass to Hugin. "Keep a sharp eye on the field. Watch for anything out of the ordinary. Something's not right."

    Nkeoma was a long ways off yet. Ban remained where he was and watched the movements of the Aleesh reserves. His orders to Hugin had already been relayed to the orcs and the Garnets. Sendings had been given to the arcanists embedded within their ranks.

    Fallen was bringing the Frozen Waters clan up the road. Her counterpart among the Black Rise clan was moving a little slower; Melcian skirmishers had given them some trouble with a volley of hurled javelins. Both were now disengaged and given cover by the supporting units. It wouldn't be much longer before they could head north to bar the militia's path.

    Ban found the other fey units, most still massed towards the center. Ritt and Tor's ogres had just completed another devastating assault on the Melcian infantry. Ban saw Light Hoof bringing his goblins back to the reserves for some much-needed rest between skirmishes.

    We're relying on the fey for this battle, Ban thought. Is that what's got me anxious? Omolade could be getting ready to bring those justice fey from the Ethereum. Whatever those new fey become, they might be able to counter the fey on our side.

    There was a lot Ban didn't know about spirit calling that he needed more information on. How many individual fey were given physical forms by the elder magic in a single casting? Did they arrive knowing what was required of them, or would they need to be given orders first? He wished he'd been allowed to interrogate Nkeoma on the subject more thoroughly while he had the chance, but that would've been too floundering rude for a hostage of her status.

    He heard the hooves of Nkeoma's horse long before she came riding up the slope. A few armsmen from Hugin's crew set up a defensive line just in case she was making a suicidal, one-woman assault on the command group. Ban held up his hand for her to rein in before she got too close.

    "I feel as if all that could be said has been said, Princess," Ban shouted so to be heard across the short span between them.

    "Mine lord," Nkeoma yelled, out of breath from her hard ride, "you must retreat!"

    Ban shook his head while Jin reached for the hilt of her sword.

    "We can't do that, Princess," Ban said. "You've as good as said you're taking this force to exterminate Aleesh. I won't stand by and let..."

    "Light blind your eyes, Bannlyth Karst!" Nkeoma clamped her eyes shut as she screamed at him. She was hysterical, half-mad with what looked like no less than absolute terror. "Mine sister... Please, Bannlyth, you must stop her!"

    Ban stepped two paces closer to where she stood astride her horse. "Which is it, retreat or stop her? What are you on about?"

    "Mine father, he is nay dead. He abdicated. He did so to grant Omolade this honor. To immortalize her forever! The queen who ended the threat of Shan Alee!"

    Ban narrowed his eyes.

    "Mine father is now her heir!" Nkeoma opened her eyes, and tears streamed down her cheeks like rivers. "Bannlyth, please stop her! Our elder magic, it nay only calls. It can banish!"

    Ban spun from her to survey the battlefield, and he saw it all clearly. Waves, the armsmen were spread out to make room for the fey to maneuver. Every foiled Melcian gambit had been a ploy to maneuver the Aleesh forces as if placed by House Akazewi's own order.

    Spirit callers. Zoputan in mourning. Omolade. The cost of spirit calling. It all made horrible, ruthless sense. Ban called for his insight and accepted the cost of his elder magic if only to confirm that his fears were true.

    "He's played us," Ban whispered. He raised his voice as loud as he could make it. "Sound retreat!"

    But he was too late.

    It rose like a wind, a howling that filled the air like the cries of the damned. Ban could see it, a warping in the air that pulsed across the countryside. It began on the other side of the clashing legions and swept over the battlefield, a wave of force like a storm front that blasted men to their knees with the strength of its gale winds.

    Nkeoma dropped from her horse and fell to her knees. She wailed towards the south, her voice breaking beneath the weight of her grief.

    Men, beasts, and dragons were battered by the wind, but the fey, they were blown into dust. Ban felt his jaw hang open as he saw massive ogres consumed by the wind, gray dust like ash trailing in the wake of their passing. Weapons, armor, and clothing fell to the ground as the wind stole the physical bodies their ancestors had been given. The relics of their lives in this world were all that remained of them.

    "No..." Ban whispered. "Spirits save us, no."

    The rival brothers, Ritt and Tor, were shattered into a thousand motes of ash. Fallen raised her sword high overhead and howled her defiance until her voice was but one among thousands claimed by the elder magic. Ban ran down the hillside, shouting the name of his claimed brother.

    Light Hoof, far in the distance, turned and raised his head towards where his kin called to him. He closed his eyes before the wind swept him and the Lost Company Tribe away. Ban stumbled and fell to his knees. Light Hoof. Tree Spear. Hot River. The goblins, Ban's kith, were gone.

    And still the wind came.

    Ban had never known fear and dread such as this. He moved before his thoughts fully formed. He turned back up the hill and scrambled on all fours as fast as he could go. Come what may, he had said before the battle. Whatever the cost would be. But not this costly. Never this.

    He screamed for Moon to run.

    Moon reached for him, her eyes wide with fright. Tears for her brother stained her cheeks. Ban seized her by the shoulders and immediately thrust her away from him and into Krayson's arms.

    "Go," Ban said, his voice raw.

    Krayson hesitated, his gaze torn between Ban and the approaching wind.

    "Take her away!" Ban screamed. "Krayson, GO!"

    Moon reached for Ban one last time, her other hand pressed firmly over their child. "Heart-blessed."

    Ban felt the wind arrive. He was thrown onto the grass in the same moment he felt a scalding blast of heated air searing his skin. A crack like thunder burst painfully in his ears, but it was the cries of the banished fey that tore at his soul.

    A tiny weight fell over him, slight and all but unnoticeable. Every part of him trembling, Ban took it into his hands and held it before him, the uniform of a knight-lieutenant. He raised his eyes and found Krayson gone. Moon was gone, but her uniform remained here with him. His lisichka, his blue.

    Rippling Moon was gone.

    As if from a distance, Ban heard the howl of a tortured soul. Ban had never heard anything like it before. Such wretched sorrow. Such pain. It was a wordless and primal cry that would make his darkest nightmares seem like pale, hollow shadows in comparison. He heard their agony, he felt their despair, and he knew the voice was his own.

    Pain burst through his fingers as he drove them into the hillside. His nails shattered as he clawed his way through the dirt and ripped up the soil. He had to search. Moon was gone, but the rybka... Waves take him, he had to find the rybka!

    What good was his elder magic if it couldn't help him now? He gave it everything he had. He drew more from the bond and gave it that. The pain in his heart was so deep and piercing that he knew he must be dying, so he tried to take healing, too. It didn't help. None of it helped. He became his pain.

    His elder magic claimed him. He knelt beside a frozen stream, cold water cupped in his hands, and he held the dancing light of the crescent moon's reflection. "This is what he sights in his name?"

    He left the stream and found himself before a tower with defeated knights at his feet. Too-large, violet eyes looked up into his, pleading and demanding all at once. "He did not sight them as his slayers. He sighted himself as one!"

    The tower vanished and left him within the courtyard of the Salt Stone Palace. "He scents of me? He scents... only of me?"

    And then a tent many leagues away, when he was told he was to become a father and a husband. "I will make him this, if he makes me his."

    Every relived memory brought a glimmer of relief— of hope— before he was pulled cruelly back into the present moment and was reminded he would never hear new words spoken by his lisichka's voice again. The memories were all he had left.

    Blood ran freely over his hands, and he didn't feel the terrible damage he was doing to them. He couldn't move them anymore, tattered and broken. Something seized his face, and he heard his name being called. In a haze, he saw Jin on her knees, and Ban's eyes for a brief moment were able to focus on her and her alone.

    "Ban," she said, her voice no more than a rasping whisper. Jin's beast-like eyes were dim, the glow within them gone dark, and Ban didn't understand why that struck him as so horrifically wrong. Her expression was outwardly calm and stoic, but Ban knew her well enough to see the horror in the set of her jaw, the way her brows raised, and the single tear falling from her eye. "Ban, I'm sorry."

    She stood, and Ban found he hadn't any strength left to him. He knelt before her, head bowed and heart broken.

    Jin rose to her feet. She drew her sword, and she raised her eyes to the Melcian forces advancing through the routing Aleesh legion. Her left arm ripped apart as bone blades tore out through her flesh. Her voice lost all semblance of calm and turned to fury.

    "I will make them pay."