a cloak made of leaves and moss. Dozens of elves spread out behind and beside her. They clicked and scraped as they lifted weapons made of wood and thorn, their teeth bared and their black eyes glittering with vicious intent. They bayed for blood, a sound Donna well remembered.
Queen Isolde had reached the edge of the clearing, flanked by her knights, Taran and Cathal. Donna gasped when she saw Xan flying overhead, in the mechanical harness that Maker had fashioned for him.
“No!” Demian cried, finally releasing Donna’s hair. She fell to the ground and lay there, panting but mercifully out of reach. “You will not defeat me, you alchemists, with your arrogance and greed. Not again!”
Donna suddenly realized that there was a demon army gathering in the sky and on the ground. Shadows slid between the trees like silent death, and giant birds with razor-sharp beaks flew above the treetops.
Isolde and Aliette approached one another on the battlefield. Isolde’s hair gleamed under a silver crown threaded with leaves. She wore no helmet, but her armor was so brightly polished that the pale moonlight reflected off it, making Donna squint.
“Cousin.” The Queen of Faerie smiled.
Aliette clasped her cousin’s hand. “Cousin. It has been too long.”
“Yes,” Isolde said. “When this is over, we will be glad to finally see our kin return to Faerie.”
The Wood Queen’s head tilted to one side. “If we survive.”
Isolde’s gaze was fierce. “We will.”
Donna’s heart filled when she saw that the alchemists, led by her mother and Quentin Frost, were taking up positions around the edges of the clearing. Aunt Paige and Simon Gaunt were with them, along with others that Donna was too tired even to register. She saw a few familiar faces—there was Alma Kensington, her tutor, wearing strange purple robes—but many of the alchemist warriors were unknown to her. They looked fierce and battle-ready, with magic crackling around their hands. Some of the men and women looked younger than she would have expected, probably belonging to the mysterious Order of the Lion.
She searched the crowd for Miranda and Robert, but if they were here she didn’t see them.
All the alchemists raised their hands. Donna knew they were working together to encompass Ironwood Forest in a cloaking spell, which would hide the battle from mortal senses.
As Demian howled in his cage, human and fey joined together to fight the forces of the Underworld. Demons clashed with elves, and alchemists blasted jagged lightning bolts into demon shadows. Trees burned, and blood spattered the ground below.
Donna looked up into the sky, helpless as she watched Xan fight off a giant black owl with scarlet eyes and talons so long they could probably remove a human’s head from its shoulders. She remembered reading about the demonic Strix and their child-eating ways, and prayed to nothing and nobody in particular that Xan would escape. He was waving a sword around like he knew what he was doing, but when had he had time to train? It was madness. Maybe he thought he was being brave, but Donna just wanted to scream at him to come down before he got himself killed.
Crawling further away from Demian and his fury as he pounded the walls of the circle, she wondered what she could possibly do to help. She felt utterly spent … used up and just about ready to collapse.
Fights were breaking out all around her and overhead. She saw Simon Gaunt firing some kind of glowing crossbow at the demon shadows. As each bolt found its mark, the creature collapsed in on itself and disappeared. Her eyes widened as she watched her mother and her aunt working together to surround more giant birds—those creepy owls, as well as golden eagles with bloodstained beaks—with a ring of silver energy. She finally caught sight of Miranda and Robert, pushing back another group of shadows with the combined force of their magic. Everything was chaos, and the Ironwood was filled with flames and screams and the clash of steel.
Donna watched it all, forcing herself to witness the bravery of her friends and allies. A lump filled her throat and she found her vision misted over with tears as the battle grew more fierce.
And then more shadows poured out of the ground, a seemingly endless supply of demonic warriors arriving from the Otherworld. Their numbers were overwhelming, and her eyes widened. Perhaps their king was trapped, but he could clearly still command them.
“Donna,” called a frail voice. It was weak, barely audible over the