beside her young queen. A few scattered Cisean warriors hung back by the double doors.
“Word reached us of the battle two days ago,” Petra said. “Fear’s Massacre.” She grinned, her yellow and gold teeth reflecting the sunlight. “It’s all the men have been able to speak of.” Axe elbowed her aunt.
“I’m sure it wasn’t that great,” the young girl muttered.
“Oh, it was,” Draeven said, coming up the steps beside Lazarus. “She rode a bloody firedrake into battle.”
Axe’s mouth popped open, and she ran an appraising gaze up and down Quinn’s form before sniffing once. “Hm.”
Thorne chuckled as Quinn rolled her eyes. Even grieving and on the brink of true war, Axe was still Axe, no matter the crown she wore on her head.
“Come, we have much to discuss,” Lazarus said. The tone of his voice brought the smiles and grins to a halt. His allies started to head indoors, but Quinn hung back and met that heavy gaze.
Something charged passed between them.
“I need time to think,” he said quietly as the others filtered inside.
“We have no time. It’s out. We couldn’t even send for reinforcements and have them arrive before he takes Dumas if we wanted to,” Quinn argued.
“You are strong. I am strong. We will find a way,” Lazarus said, striding forward. She stood her ground and hit his shoulder with hers as he tried to pass, stopping him in his tracks.
“Strength is not enough. If it were, Mazzulah never would have lost. The dark heirs have always been stronger.” Their breath mingled as he faced her.
“We are different.”
“So is he.”
A cough at the double doors made them both pause and look to Draeven.
“Your Grace,” the left-hand said somewhat awkwardly. His shoulder and chest were still bound in bandages, but he seemed to be moving better, Quinn noticed. She wondered what happened in the battle for him to be as injured as he was.
Lazarus started to walk away when Quinn said, “If you don’t tell them, I will.”
“And if he sends another creature made of blood magic after them? To learn any plans we might make?”
“Then he does, but if we only have days, so does he. They’re willing to die for you, Lazarus. They deserve the truth.”
“If we tell them, they’ll panic.”
“Axe asked you for a promise that she could kill him. That was her terms for entering this, and she deserves to know. Petra is one of the most steady women I’ve ever met. Thorne does not panic, and he already knows half of the story. Invite your allies, but not the lords. Tell them the truth of this. They deserve to know.”
“Why are you so insistent on the truth?” he asked her, ire entering his tone.
“We are not the only heirs. I have to think there’s a reason for that. He’s stronger than any Maji alone. He has an army that’s estimated at half a million. By all accounts, we should lose . . . but I don’t feel fear. I can’t. I’m incapable of it. So instead, I’m focusing on what I know. They cannot even do that if they don’t have the full picture. Eight minds are better than two.”
Quinn waited a moment, until he said, “Very well.”
She hoped this feeling in her gut was not a mistake.
“That went horribly,” Draeven sighed.
Quinn leaned back in the wooden chair, crossing her arms over her chest. They’d told the other leaders the truth, and it had been utter chaos. Axe lost her temper and took out two chairs and a centuries old mahogany table in the center of the room before Petra managed to drag her away. Thorne had been calm, as usual, but left shortly after to write to his wife. Quinn had never seen the Cisean leader so desolate, not even when his son had been consumed by Kairick. The planning was swift. The actions they could take limited.
The Ilvans would handle the bay. The Ciseans and Norcastans would protect the city.
They had walls and weapons and magic . . . but no one truly believed it would be enough.
Not against five hundred thousand men.
She still couldn’t believe it, the sheer size. Quinn never indulged in spirits, but for once, she considered it.
“How many deserters do you think we’ll have by morning?” Dominicus asked.
Quinn scowled, her gaze darting to Lazarus. He wasn’t looking at them, any of them, but instead staring out the window to the sleeping city below. It was well past the midnight hour when all others but House Fierté had retreated