Morning dawned, warmed by a humid mist and a faint breeze. Kalian knelt beside Commander Lev's bedroll, quickly skimming through several letters and reports she'd left out. He was supposed to be packing up their possessions so they could leave for Selcouth soon, while she attended to the horses. Apparently, she wasn't in the mood to watch him struggle through saddling two horses instead of one.

Kalian narrowed his eyes, flipping to a letter that had arrived shortly before he joined the unit. It had been sent by the mysterious General Dagen whom he'd heard so little about. Kalian hesitated and listened intently, fearing that Moira might decide to return to the tent for some reason. Her voice reached his pointed ears, now rounded by his glamour, soft and coaxing as she murmured to the horses. Kalian read through the report swiftly.

Units are moving slower than anticipated. We'll have to postpone our assault until everyone is ready. Maintain your position for now. Orders will come when I've decided on our next meeting location.

-Dagen

Kalian pursed his lips and folded the letter, stuffing it in a satchel along with the rest of the correspondence. So we were right. It sounds like they are planning a larger strike. The question is where and when will it happen? Maybe King Arius and Queen Iyan can dispatch scouts to locate General Dagen. I probably won't learn anything of use here until Commander Lev receives orders to move our unit.

He buckled the satchel and rolled up Moira's bedroll before tossing it next to his own. The only thing left for him to do was take down the tent. Kalian carried the satchel and bedrolls outside and left them near a saddle. He returned to the tent and made quick work of unfastening the ropes, removing the wooden poles, and folding up the thick material.

Kalian lugged the items over to his roan stallion. He had already been saddled, and Moira was currently outfitting Jasmine. "Bring the ropes and tent material," she said, not looking up, "but leave the poles. We have spares at the camp and a traveler might need those more than we do."

"All right."

Kalian deposited the poles near one of the firepits left by their unit. He secured his bedroll just behind the saddle on his stallion, and tossed Moira her own when she faced him. She made quick work of fastening hers and slung the satchel of reports over her shoulder before mounting Jasmine. Kalian swung onto his horse and they set off towards Selcouth.

"How are you feeling?" Kalian asked presently, watching Moira with a scrutinizing eye. She didn't seem excessively weak or tired, which was good. It was the terse look in her gaze that had him worried.

"Fine," she answered. "The last effects of the spell should be wearing off by now, right?"

Hair tickled Kalian's neck as he nodded. He ran his fingers through it in an effort to tame his tangled locks. "You should be out of danger by now. Samson did leave us a few medicines in case they're needed though."

"They aren't."

Kalian was silent for several minutes. He could practically feel the tension that rolled off Commander Lev. It circulated between them in unrelenting waves. "How long are we staying in Selcouth?" He asked. I should be able to find a Witch there who can send a message to the King and Queen for me, assuming I have enough time.

"Too long," she muttered. "A few weeks, I imagine. Our orders are to clear the area of any Faeries, Scindoes, and Witches we find until we're told otherwise. With the weather how it's been lately, I imagine it will take longer for new orders to reach us."

"True," Kalian sighed. His stomach churned with guilt, recalling the Witch he had killed. "Those bandits who attacked us..."

"What about them?" Moira's smoldering onyx eyes turned to him.

"The amount of Witches traveling with them was unexpected. I wonder if they're a group forming to combat Ironblades. Maybe they're trying to defend the Faeries in this area."

"If that's true, it's going to make our job a lot more difficult, especially because the people of Selcouth aren't sympathetic to our cause." Commander Lev massaged her forehead as she thought. "Good catch. We'll have to be sure we take extra precautions while we're here."

Kalian looked away, stroking his stallion's neck in an effort to soothe his racing thoughts. He was supposed to be uncovering Ironblade plans, not helping them make new ones. He shouldn't be giving them new ways to defend themselves or new knowledge about surviving magical wounds. He shouldn't be helping them in order to help his own people. He shouldn't be forced to choose between killing his kind and killing his enemy.

Once more, familiar words rang through his mind. I'm doing what I have to. Unless I can find another way to learn about the Ironblade plans without revealing myself in the process, this is my only option.

And he'd been wracking his brain for alternative ideas since he first arrived. He'd considered torturing some of the soldiers for answers, but he knew they wouldn't break, Commander Lev especially.

He'd considered locating other units, preferably less organized ones. The problem was, Ironblade units worked as individuals, rarely sharing their locations with one another unless necessary. He had as much luck trying to find another unit as Scindoes had to possessing wings. In other words, no luck at all.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

The afternoon hours were waning when they finally rode into view of Selcouth. Moira maintained her blank stare, even as the familiar limestone walls surrounding the city sent pangs of homesickness through her heart. She reined Jasmine to a halt beyond the city limits, allowing Kalian to look his fill. His denim eyes were wide with awe, as though he were seeing the city for the first time. Perhaps he was. She didn't know.

Limestone bricks made up the buildings within the city, while red tile roofs added a splash of color. There were very few trees, although leafy shrubs and beds of coarse grass dotted people's front yards. The streets were made of hard packed sand, ingrained with wagon ruts and hoofprints.

Standing at the main opening into the city, Moira could see all the way to the harbor at the other end. The sea was just a thin strip of sapphire blue. Ships were blurry specks, bobbing with the waves. The scents of salt, alcohol, and spices permeated the air.

"Wow," Kalian murmured.

"It's more than you were expecting, I presume?" Moira shifted her gaze to him.

"The last time I saw Selcouth, it was still just a blot on a map."

"That must've been a long time ago. The city has thrived ever since Governor Novak took jurisdiction of some of former Governor Marcelle's cities."

Moira's mouth ran dry. Her parents and fiancé had hated Governor Marcelle for her negligence towards many of her regions. They had not lived to see her replaced following the Soleone War. From what Moira had gathered, Governor Marcelle was partially responsible for the fates of those kidnapped by Day Faeries.

She and her nephew, Sven Abel, had worked with the King and Queen of Day, conspiring to kidnap Humans and have them turned into Soleones, to be used as animalistic weapons in the Day Faerie's war. Moira had never learned how her treason was made known, and she hadn't bothered to ask. Marcelle was removed from office, Governor Aillard was appointed in her stead, and Governors Novak and Talay split her territories between themselves until Aillard was ready to handle them.

"We should find the others," Moira said presently. She hoped her voice wasn't actually as faint as it sounded. "You can explore the city later. I'm sure there will be plenty of people heading into the taverns. Selcouth is well known for its spice wine."

"I've never tried it, but I've heard only good things."

"It's my favorite type of alcohol."

Kalian grinned. "Really? What's your second favorite type?"

"Plain old rum."

"Rum?"

Moira nodded. "What's yours?"

He knit his brows. "I'm not sure. I never drank enough to find out."

"After you try spice wine, I'm sure you'll have an answer."

They guided their horses around Selcouth, riding until tents caught their eye. Smoke curled from numerous cooking fires. Guards stood at attention and other soldiers bustled through the camp, taking care of last minute tasks. Lir was among them, and was the first to notice their arrival.

"Commander," he greeted her, taking Jasmine's reins when Moira rode up beside him. "Back to old yourself yet?"

"As good as new," Moira answered, sliding from the saddle. Kalian dismounted as well and held his roan steady. "Did you run into any more bandits on your way here? Kalian thought of something that I happen to agree with." A young boy came running and led their horses away.

Lir folded his arms across his broad chest and tilted his head. His peppered black ponytail fell over one shoulder. "There was no sign of the bandits, but what did Deirdre think of?" His steel gaze darted to Kalian, then back to her.

"Given the amount of Witches working with those bandits, it might be possible that they're forming a group to rival us. I want additional security protecting the camp, just in case. We can't be caught off guard again."

"Yes, Commander."

Moira turned to Kalian. "I'd like you to help with the preparations. You knew the Witches had to be casting illusions to hide their forces from sight. I gather that means you also know how to break those illusions."

Kalian's jaw clenched. "I have a few ideas."

"Then implement them."

"Yes, Commander." His tone was low and gruff. Cold, even.

Moira arched her brow. "Is there a problem?"

"No."

The rare light that she'd begun to see in his features more and more vanished in a single heartbeat. It was as though ice had crept over him, freezing Kalian from the inside out. Lir glanced between the two of them, obviously aware of the rising tension.

"Come on, Deirdre," he said, breaking the silence. "We might as well get our work done so you can accompany Bellamy into the city later. He's only been asking when you'd arrive every two hours. Malachi threatened to cut his tongue out a few times."

"Bellamy couldn't survive without talking," Kalian replied. There wasn't even a hint of amusement in his voice. "Lead the way." He brushed past Moira without looking back and followed Lir through the camp. As she watched them go, Moira couldn't help but feel like she'd done something wrong.