Shadow Cursed by May Sage Page 0,36

they're stronger than any human, but none of that will be enough.

A hundred archers from the shy folk, who'd been given a bow the moment they could walk? That’s another story. If the legends were true, and they can shoot farther than I can see, we need them. The thought of their joining our ranks has me salivating.

Genrion Frost leans over the central table, pointing to the map. "The Black Woods’s western flank edges the Court of Mist. North, they bleed into the Murkwood, and east, the high court. It’s going to be too close to Hardrock for comfort.”

“Not if we move through the western flank,” Vlari says, suddenly a lot more interested than she seemed to be before.

I can feel her excitement, and I don’t think it has much to do with Marren or her folk, though I could be mistaken.

“Are the prisoners in the Court of Ichor now?” she asks.

Her mother nods.

“Well, to set out on the road to Hardrock, they'll take this path. The only path that can accommodate a hundred prisoners and a number of soldiers.” She follows a trail with the tip of her finger, curving north close to the Murkwood. “Once they reach the capital, we have no chance, but on the road…well. I say we stand a chance.”

Ina nods. “I’ll lead the rescue,” she offers. “Though they’ll never accept it, the shy folk are part of the Court of Ichor. They’re my people.”

No one argues.

“We know our kingdom more than the humans, for one. That said, we have no details about the number of soldiers we'll have to face as of yet. It’s a gamble, but it may be worth it."

A considerable gamble. To move a hundred elves, even bound, gagged, weaponless, and exhausted, the humans had to take five, ten times as many soldiers.

How many fae will we lose if things go wrong?

The salamander says exactly that. "It may be too much of a risk. We could lose all our fighters, all to recover a hundred archers."

“A hundred excellent archers,” Vlari says. “I think it’s worth it.”

That’s the end of it. If we have to slave over the map for hours until we have a plan, we will.

I frown, looking at the path just south of the border between Mist and Ichor. I know that place; I was sent to train there when I first enlisted in Genrion’s forces. I loved it there. Freezing in the winter, enchanting in the summer, the mountains were a delight.

"What if we didn't ambush them?" I surprise myself. I'd no plan to say anything out loud. I don't even have a plan—just the shadow of an idea.

Now, everyone is looking at me, and I have to either look like an idiot, or explain myself. And probably look like an idiot either way. "That area is dangerous—hence why no one lives there. The army uses it as training ground because of the frequent earthquakes. We're trained to find shelter and survive in those circumstances, but it'd surprise me if the humans were. There are caves in these mountains, along the path where we could hide. It could be possible to start a landslide here."

The queen of Ichor frowns. “This isn’t on their way. It’s south of the path they’re likely to take.”

“A landslide up these mountains will take the entire valley,” I promise. “There are spells and wards to prevent it.”

I look to Genrion for confirmation. The duke nods. “It may be doable.”

One of the four knights behind the king of Ash asks, hopeful, “Do we need to blow up anything?" He shrugs when we turn to him.

Vlari grins. “We’ll more than likely need a few explosions.”

His smile broadens, like the princess offered him a present wrapped with a pretty white bow. “It’s been a few quiet years. I’ll tag along, if you’ll have me.”

His king doesn’t seem happy at all, but he doesn’t protest either.

“While your plan could work, it could also endanger the elves," Nero says quietly.

His mother, the ferocious pixie my sister idolizes since she saved my family ten years ago, snorts. "Right. A landslide and a bit of an earthquake killing elves. Let the adults talk, boy."

Nero doesn't seem offended. "I'm just saying, there may be injured or weaker captives who will need our assistance."

I can't tell whether he's just naive, or willfully obtuse. Of course, not all of our people will make it. It's not expected. Whatever way we choose to do this, there will be casualties. They are acceptable losses, when