"How far are they?" Ike asked Jay. He had left Zia in her room, and the only reason why she agreed to stay behind was because Ike had promised to return with detailed answers.

"An hour, maybe two," Jay said seriously. They were standing in a command room with a large map of the kingdoms of Otar, Skilae, Mithia, and Scullin laid out on a large table. A large balcony led to outside, where there was a great view of the tips of the tents and banners of the Skilaen army. Jay stared at the bright yellow banners with a blood-red phoenix emblazoned on them as though he were lost in thought. He looked different- older. He looked exhausted, as though he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders.

But he does carry a heavy burden, Ike reminded himself. As Captain of the Royal Guard, Jay was the highest-ranking army official, only lower than the King himself, and as such, the responsibility of the entire army rested with him.

"So, what are your orders, Captain?"

Jay was pulled out of his thoughts and stiffened his shoulders and tilted up his chin, showing confidence that Ike was sure he himself didn't have.

"We need to finish preparations for battle and get the King and Queen, the refugees, and Zia somewhere hidden and safe."

Ike snorted. "Zia won't consent to that. She determined to help, and there'll be worse than the devil to pay if she's refused."

"I will not consent either," said a deep voice.

Jay and Ike spun around to find the King, looking regal and headstrong, in the doorway. Neither of them had heard him enter.

"Your Highness," Jay said, lowering his head into a bow. Ike followed Jay's example and dipped his head.

"Captain," the King said in greeting. "Mr. Reems."

"We were just discussing the safety of the refugees and Miss Zia," Jay explained to Donathan, though he was sure the King had heard them.

"Yes, the Golden-Eyed One," said King Donathan. He turned to Ike, and Ike shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "You say your sister will want to help?"

Ike nodded. "Yes," he said. "She's determined to do something. She won't stand idly by while others lay down their lives."

"Then I suggest we let her help," the King said.

"How?" Ike demanded before he remembered he was speaking to the King, who could easily have him hanged. "Um, I mean, what would you suggest, sire? She can't fight in her wounded state."

The King smiled as though he knew exactly what Ike had been thinking. "No, I agree, she cannot. But I suggest, if she really does have this fabled power that our enemy is so keen on possessing, that we use that to our advantage."

"Use her as bait?" Ike said incredulously, before once again remembering his manners and said, "Is that what you're suggesting, sire?"

"Of course not," Donathan said. "I would never put her in harm's way. What I am suggesting is moving her to a secure room in which she can watch the proceedings of the oncoming battle, and, if she really does have these special abilities, use them to drive our foe away."

"But she doesn't have any power," Ike protested. "I've lived with her for more than half my life, and she's never portrayed any signs of magic."

The King raised an eyebrow. "Is it magic, you call it? I would call it an extraordinary gift. And would you see any signs of such a gift unless you were looking for it?"

"Well, I guess not," Ike admitted. "But, even so, I think I'd notice if there was something different about my sister."

"But, as I understand it, you did not know the existence of the legend of the Golden-Eyed One until your journey through the Westfell Pass," the King pointed out, "so you would not know to look for such things in her."

"That's beside the point!" Ike nearly shouted, getting angry and forgetting himself once more. "That's my sister, and I won't let you use her as bait."

"That's not what the King is saying, Ike," Jay said, trying to sooth his friend. "He's saying that if Zia can see for herself how desperate things will be- and you can be sure that they will be desperate- then it will trigger her to use the power of the Golden-Eyed One to call upon the Silver Dragon and end the war."

"But she doesn't have any power!" Ike said through gritted teeth.

The King stared at Ike for a moment, and Ike suddenly worried that he had crossed the line, and was about to apologize when Donathan said, "Whether she has true power or not, Miss Zia, will have a job to do and, therefore, will be of help, which, as I remember correctly, is what you said she would want."

"Yes, she does want to be helpful," Ike conceded, "but not like that."

"Unfortunately it that is the only kind of help I am willing to let her be," King Donathan said firmly. "Power or no, I will not endanger the very person our enemy is here to collect."

"That, we can agree on," Ike said passionately.

"Now that we have that settled," Jay said to the King, "on to the protection of the refugees, you, and Lady Fraya."

"Take Fraya to the drawing room on the third floor and leave the door unguarded and the room undisturbed. She can hide safely in there until this mess is settled."

Jay nodded, which surprised Ike. Wouldn't the King want to use every spare man to protect his wife? But, he reminded himself, there are no spare men.

"And for yourself, Your Majesty?" Jay asked.

"I thought I'd stay here and command my troops," the King said simply. "I am a king. I've taken an oath to support and protect my people at all costs, and that is what I will do."

"But, Your Highness-" Jay started, but he was cut off by a silencing hand from Donathan.

"That is my decision, Captain." He spoke with formality and firmness, and Ike knew the King would not be swayed from his choice.

"Very well," Jay said, though he didn't look happy about it. "And what of the refugees?"

"Lock them in the dungeon."

At first, Ike thought he had misheard King Donathan, but when Jay said, "I beg your pardon, sire?" and the King repeated himself, there could be no doubt of what the King had said.

"Lock them in the dungeon, sire?" Jay repeated.

"Yes, that's what I said," he confirmed patiently.

"But... why?"

"It is the last place our enemies will look for the people we are protecting. We will leave them with water and a little bread, so they can take care of themselves, but I want them out of the way."

"Yes, sire," Jay said, now seeing the brilliance in the plan.

"Am I the only one who's noticed," Ike said slowly, "that we are making all these decisions as though the enemy is going to make it inside the citadel and the castle?"

"Given our numbers, I'd say the odds of them getting inside the citadel are very high." Jay said it without a tremor of fear in his voice, but the thought of it sent a chill down Ike's back all the same.

But then Ike was struck with a thought. "Why don't we let them?"

"Let them what?"

"Get inside the citadel. If we're forced to retreat inside the walls, we can pretend to let them in and launch a surprise attack on them."

Jay rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That might work," he said slowly, and by the look on Jay's face, Ike was sure he was already thinking of possible tactics to use to carry out the plan.

"I agree," the King said. "A stroke of genius, Mr. Reems. If shove comes to shove harder, it's a spectacular plan to fall back on."

"Thank you," Ike said with a self-satisfied smile.

"Ike," Jay said, changing the subject. "Can you fight close-range with your knives?"

Ike bit his lip, but he nodded. "I'm better from a distance, but I can hold my own up close."

Jay nodded. "Good. Then I want you with me in the front lines."

Ike wasn't sure how he felt about being in the front lines, but he would rather it were him than someone else. He nodded his consent.

"Heath's a good shot with a bow," Ike informed the King. "He'll make a powerful asset to your archers."

The King nodded. "Then that's where he will be."

"Any word on the progress of General Bloking and his men?" Jay asked.

"I expect them to arrive on the horizon a few hours after noon. Though they may double our numbers, most of them will be injured and require supplies that we do not have. And, even with the weapons that they may bring, they will only have enough for the men they have."

"I might have a solution to our weapons shortage problem. Well- Zia gave me a solution to our weapons shortage problem," Ike said. When he was sure he had Jay and Donanthan's full attention, he continued, "In the Thieves' Headquarters, we have a training arena, and it's filled with weapons that we've, um... collected through the years. If we can send someone to collect those weapons, we would have enough to arm all of our men."

Jay let a smile break out on his face. But then the smile faded. "But how are we going to do that? The Thieves' Headquarters may be just a few hours' ride from here, but there's a large army between here and there."

They fell silent and pondered possible solutions to this new problem, but they could think of none. They could not send out a rider with a wagon, for they would surely be intercepted by the Skilaen army. And even if the Skilaens did let the wagon and rider through, they wouldn't be able to make it back without inspection, and their enemy definitely wasn't going to allow the rider to make it back to the citadel with the weapons. If anything, the Skilaens would take the weapons and use them to supply their own army.

Finally, after nearly half an hour of fail-sure plans being suggested, the King sighed and said, "We will have to make due without the weapons, great as an asset as they may be to us. Now, we'd all best be doing last minute preparations, as I'm sure our enemy is doing."

It seemed like forever before Ike finally returned and Zia was able to wring out every bit of information from his conversation with the King and Jay as possible. As Ike had predicted, Zia did not like the King's task for her, but when Ike told her it was the only task that her would allow her to do, she relented and agreed, though she assured Ike it was futile and that she didn't have any ability to call upon the Silver Dragon. Ike, in turn, assured Zia that he knew very well she had no such power, but it at least gave her something to do.

Zia fell silent and stared blankly at the wall, as if a thousand miles away.

"Are you alright?" Ike asked her.

Zia nodded, not listening.

"Are you sure?" her asked again, a look of worry coming over his face.

Zia shook herself from her thoughts. "Yes, sorry. Just... thinking."

"Thinking of what?"

"That... things are pretty desperate right now."

Ike nodded. "Yes, they are."

"So desperate, in fact," she continued as though she hadn't heard him, "that the King wants me to watch a war wage in the slight, nearly impossible chance that I can fix it magically."

Zia finally turned to look at Ike, but it was only for an instant before she turned her face away again. "And..." she said slowly, as if not sure if she wanted to finish her sentence or not.

"Yes?" Ike urged, eager to hear what she had to say.

"And what if I do have some kind of magical ability?" She said it slowly, and each syllable sounded strange to her ears.

"I believe the King called it an 'extraordinary gift'," Ike said, and Zia felt him poke her arm until she smiled.

They fell silent, and it seemed to take Ike a while before he realized Zia was expecting an answer out of him.

"Look, Zia," he said softly, as though speaking to a wounded animal, "I'm not sure what to think about this Golden-Eyed One/Silver Dragon power thing, but I am sure of one thing."

"That this little adventure of ours turned out way more complicated than either of us thought it would?" Zia asked with a slight smile.

Ike laughed. "Well, that too," he conceded. "What I was going to say was that if I had to pick one person to have a magical power to summon a dragon, I'd pick you."

"So of all the people in the world, the one you'd pick out to be a freak would be me? Gee, thanks." She smiled at him to let him know she was joking, and he smiled back.

"What I mean is, of all the people in the world, the one person I'd pick out to be exceptionally gifted would be you."

Zia gave him a small smile, but it quickly it fell from her face. What if she did have the gift the Queen had told her about? What if she really could summon a dragon? The thought that she might made her feel queasy inside. But it was nothing compared to what she felt when she thought, What if I don't? What would that mean for her, her friends, the kingdom? Hundreds of lives would be lost on both sides, and, though they were idiots for following Daxtor with his plan of world domination, Zia didn't think the Skilaen army deserved to die any more than the Otarian soldiers.

"What is it?" Ike asked her.

She shook her head, bringing her out of her terrifying thoughts. "It's nothing."

Zia could see Ike rolling his eyes out of the corner of her eye and heard him give an exasperated sigh. "Don't say it's nothing, Zia, it's obviously something."

"It's nothing I can share."

"And why not?"

Zia considered the question before answering slowly, "It's a really long story, one that you don't have time to hear right now."

"You know, I could die today." Ike said it casually, but Zia could tell that he was frightened.

"Don't die, and I'll tell you everything," she promised.

Ike gave her his goofy, dimpled, crooked grin. "Deal. I'll hold you to that."

She smiled. "I'd expect nothing less."

"No," Zia said firmly.

Link sighed. "Miss Zia, this will-"

"No," she said again. She was in the most extravagant room she had ever been in. The windows gave a great, clear view of the citadel below and the large, open hills where the battle was to take place. The windows' curtains were drawn back and the most plush rugs decorated the floor. There was an unlit fireplace in the corner and portraits of beautiful landscapes and fancy nobles dancing in a large hall adorned the walls. Zia was sitting up in a large bed that had the most pillows she had ever seen in her life. A large, green, embroidered bed spread was shimmering in the sunlight streaming in from the open window. Everything was clean and in its place- except for her. She felt like a single dust mite on a polished floor, making everything around her filthy and drab. This was the place where she would stay for the duration of the battle.

Link was standing next to her, holding out a small vial of an orange, strange-smelling liquid. When Zia had asked what it was, Link told her it was it was a sedative.

"Please, Miss Zia," he repeated. "This will calm your-"

"I don't care," she said firmly. Sedatives were too much like alcohol and too much like something Daxtor wouldn't hesitate in drinking in one gulp. She refused to be anything like him.

Link opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a knock on the door. "Come in!"

The door opened and Heath strode in. "I was on my way up to the battlements and I thought I'd drop in on my way," he told Zia with a smile.

Zia stared at him. She had seen him hundreds upon thousands of times before, but he somehow looked different. When they had left for their journey his hair had been cut short and uniform, but it had grown a lot in the past weeks, and it started to curl around his neck. His face had changed too. His featured were more pronounced and had sharpened. His green eyes were more bright and seemed to shine in the light. Somewhere along their adventure, Heath had transformed from a good-looking boy to a handsome young man.

Zia wondered for a moment how much she had changed. She definitely didn't feel like the girl who left for the Westfell Pass looking for adventure. She didn't feel like the closest family to the Queen. And she certainly didn't feel like the descendant of a powerful historical figure.

"It's about to start, then?" she asked, bringing herself out of her thoughts.

He nodded. "I've never really fought in a war before, but I'd say so. Tension is at an all-time high, the Queen has been hidden, and the refugees have been locked away in the dungeon." He shook his head and smiled. "I still can't believe the King came up with that."

"It's a good idea, if a little unorthodox."

Heath laughed, and Zia's heart fluttered.

"I still think the women should be allowed to fight," she said firmly, ignoring her jittery stomach.

Heath nodded. "I agree. They'd be a great asset. I've learned the hard way not to get a headstrong woman's way. The Skilaens wouldn't stand a chance." He smiled at her and she laughed.

"Mr. Rockhower?" Link said in a tentative voice.

"Yes?" Heath asked, looking down at the small physician.

Link gestured for him to come closer, and Heath stooped down so his ear was next to Link's mouth. Link began to whisper something in his ear, and, though Zia couldn't hear what was being said, she had a feeling that it concerned her, because Heath kept looking between her and the vertically challenged healer.

Finally, Heath stood to his full height and said, "Zia, you need to take your medicine."

Zia went back and forth between glaring at him and Link, not sure which to be more cross with.

"It's not medicine, it's a sedative," she said, holding her chin high. "And I will not take a sedative."

"It's a tonic!" Link protested. "To calm your nerves."

Zia gave him a withering look.

"Alright, so it's a sedative," he admitted. "But it won't put you to sleep. It really will just calm you down."

"Zia," Heath said, "do you honestly think Link would give you something if he didn't know for a fact that it would help you?"

Zia had to agree with him on that note, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "I don't care if it's going to help," she said. "I don't want it."

Heath rolled his eyes. "Do you always have to make things so difficult?" He said it like he was irritated, but his eyes were twinkling with laughter.

"I prefer to use the word 'interesting'," she replied with a grin.

Heath huffed a laugh. "You'll never change, will you?"

"No, you'd get bored."

He rolled his eyes again, but then all playfulness drained from his face and he said very seriously, "You need to take whatever Link gives you."

She looked at him with equal seriousness and said, "I will- just not the sedative."

"I can always force it down your throat," Heath warned.

She snorted. "Try it and find out what happens."

"Think of it this way: The more you follow Link's instructions, the sooner you'll be back on your feet."

Zia considered his words for a long while. She mulled them over in her mind, pondering them long and hard before she said angrily, "Fine. Give me the stupid vial."

"That's the spirit," Heath said happily. "You know, you should be happy, Zia. Jay thinks we should be locking you in the dungeon with the other women and children."

"Why?" she asked as she accepted the bottle with the sedative within from Link.

"Because he's worried you'll try to sneak out and fight."

"Don't worry about that," Link said confidently. "This door is locked to those on the inside. She can only be let out from someone outside this room."

"Yes, they're making sure I'm kept very safe," Zia said sarcastically, sniffing the bottle contents and jerking away at the putrid odor.

"They are trying to keep you safe, Zia," Heath said gently. He opened his mouth, as if he were about to say more, but his mouth shut again and whatever he was about to say remained disclosed only to him. 

"I should go," Heath decided. "They need their best archer to show them how to aim." He smiled cheekily. "And Link, are you set up to care for the wounded?"

Link nodded. "I've got everything I need prepared for the usual injuries sustained during battle."

"Good," Heath nodded. "Then it looks like we both have places we need to be."

"I won't leave until Miss Zia takes the sedative," Link said stubbornly.

Zia cursed. She had half been hoping they would leave before they could watch her take it and she could dump the foul-smelling drink out the window.

"Fine," she growled. She pressed the bottle to her lips, tipped her head back, and, after a slight hesitation, swallowed the sedative in one gulp. She hated herself for doing it, hating being anything like Daxtor the Scum, but Heath was right. If she followed Link's instructions, the sooner she would get back on her feet. 

And, she thought grimly, the sooner I can find Daxtor and kill him.

"Good," Link said in a satisfied manner. "Now that she's taken care of, I can take up my position in the infirmary."

"And I can join the other archers," Heath said, and he turned to follow Link out of the room.

"Good luck," Zia called after him.

Heath paused in his footsteps and turned back around. He then made his way over to Zia's bed and leaned down to embrace her in his arms.

"Be safe," she whispered in his ear, closing her eyes tight.

Before they pulled apart Heath kissed her temple gently and replied, "Stay out of trouble." Then he turned back to the door.

Zia wasn't sure if she was imagining things or if the drugs were messing with her mind, but she could have sworn that as Heath pulled the door shut behind him, he poked his head back in, winked at her, and ducked back out the door. But the strangest thing of all was, just as the door was about to close, a hand appeared between the crack and stopped the door from closing completely.

It was so fast Zia was sure it was just a figment of her imagination, but when Zia looked closely, she could see the smallest of space between the open door and the wall.