Corec waited impatiently, checking the fit of the new cuirass he was wearing. It was comforting to feel the full weight of heavy armor once more, even if it wasn’t quite so heavy as before. He was wearing a mail shirt and cuirass from the armory, but he’d had to pair that with the remnants of his old armor—the helmet, gauntlets, greaves, and vambraces. It looked odd with the mix of styles and metals, but it seemed functional enough.

None of the full suits of plate in the armory had fit him, and he’d tried each one. It had taken nearly an hour, even with Nedley’s help, since all the straps had rotted away. When the people had abandoned the place, they’d apparently taken most of the full suits of armor, leaving only the smallest and largest sizes, and the large ones were too big even for Corec. Luckily, there was a full range of sizes available for the separate cuirasses and mail.

One of the small suits of plate would fit Nedley, but Corec had convinced him it would take too long to learn to fight in it. Boktar had promised to teach him, but there wasn’t enough time before the enemy arrived. For now, Nedley, too, was wearing a new chain shirt and cuirass in place of his old red-eye brigandine.

They’d taken the time to test the new armor to make sure it was real and not ceremonial. Despite being half the weight Corec was used to, it had held up well against their weapons. Neither Nedley’s old steel sword nor his new one, made of the Ancient’s darker metal, could pierce it, and the attempt had chipped a section of the old blade. Boktar’s warhammer had fared better, denting the metal if he applied enough strength, but the armor plating held up better than steel would have. Only Corec’s enchanted sword had been able to penetrate the metal, and doing so had required several powerful, well-aimed strokes at the exact same spot.

Sarette had decided to keep her old mail. She wasn’t sure whether the new metal would affect her abilities, and wanted more time to experiment with it before using it in a fight.

She was standing nearby, along with the others who would be helping Corec hold off the oncoming group. Leena was positioned in a building two blocks to the north, hoping to attract the Seeker’s attention. If he led the enemy forces toward her position, they would most likely follow one of the two streets that led straight there from the south. Given how narrow the streets were, Corec suspected they might take both. He and his friends were hidden on a cross-street between the two. Once the enemy had committed to the approach, Corec and Sarette planned to block off the intersection to the west and Boktar and Razai would guard the one to the east, hopefully bottlenecking their opponents and making sure their greater numbers couldn’t come to bear. Treya and Josip would support whichever pair needed them the most. The entrances to the nearest structures lining the approach had been blocked off with boulders and fallen stone blocks, so their opponents wouldn’t be able to use them for cover.

Corec poked his head around the corner of the building to check the street again, finally finding Razai running his way. She’d been out scouting the oncoming forces, since Corec’s group was positioned too far back in the ruins to see their opponents approach amongst all the buildings. It was inconvenient, but it also meant their enemies couldn’t see them. Not yet, at least.

Corec’s biggest worry was whether their enemies had a crafty commander. They had to know their arrival wasn’t a secret. If they were smart, they’d treat the entire area as enemy territory. To be cautious, they might send a small scouting party toward the decoy building to find out where everyone was located. If the scouts were attacked, their archers could retaliate from a distance, and then the rest of the forces could follow a different route before Corec could reposition his own people.

The only way he could think of to counter that was to remain hidden until the bulk of the enemy forces had been deployed. The buildings near Corec’s position had entrances along the cross street, so if a scouting party came by, he and his friends could take cover in those without being observed.

Whether the enemy sent a scouting party or not, Corec was hoping the rest of their forces would commit to the approach before anyone reached Leena’s position. If she was attacked, she’d Travel to a secondary location and try again, but it would mean Corec and his friends would have a harder time trying to block off the route.

“Well?” Corec asked Razai as she darted into the cross street, out of view of anyone who might be following her.

“They’re all mixed together,” she said. “The archers, the armsmen, the ones with the knives. They’re headed for Leena’s position and they’re watching for us, but they’re not organized at all.”

“The mercenaries must not be taking the threat seriously,” Corec said. “Or they think we’re farther away. If they’re still like that when they reach us, it’ll be difficult to take out their archers, but it’ll also be difficult for their archers to target us. Could you tell which route they’ll take?”

“They haven’t reached the spot yet where they’ll need to decide, and I couldn’t stay any longer and still get back in time. I think we should stay here. Once they hit the plaza, these are the only two streets that lead directly to Leena.”

Corec nodded. He’d considered facing their opponents in the plaza they’d found in the center of the ruins, where Shavala’s spells might have greater effect, but the wide open location would have allowed the enemy to overwhelm them with their greater numbers. These two narrow streets would offer a better chance for a small number of people to hold off a larger force.

He went over the plan again in his head, worried he’d missed something. Finally, he said, “Nedley, let Shavala and Katrin know about the archers, then stay there like we discussed. Josip, can you get to Ellerie and back in time?”

“Yes,” Josip replied. The two men took off, Josip heading to the building overlooking the western intersection, where Ellerie was hidden on the top floor. Her role was to target the archers—and the wizard, if she could find him. Her arrow shield would extend to cover Corec’s intersection, but it wouldn’t reach as far as Boktar’s.

To balance that, Shavala and Katrin were in a different building on the east side. Shavala’s spells could, in theory, hit more targets at once than Ellerie’s, and Katrin could affect multiple people as long as they could hear her. Boktar’s armor and shield would protect him from arrows. Corec was more worried about Razai, who didn’t wear armor, but she hadn’t shown any concern.

Treya touched his shoulder and concentrated for a moment. “This should protect you from fire and lightning magic.”

“What about something like Ellerie’s spells?” he asked as she moved on to Boktar.

“I’m still trying to figure that one out. I’m sorry.”

Corec nodded. It was better than nothing, but hopefully Ellerie or Shavala would be able to find the wizard quickly. Treya finished with the others, then cast the spell on Josip once he returned.

While Boktar and Razai headed to the eastern end of the cross street, Corec joined Sarette at the western end, near the intersection the two of them would be guarding. She was using one of her small signal mirrors to peer around the corner.

“They’re coming,” she murmured. “Still all bunched up. No advance scouts.”

Corec used hand signals to let Boktar know. Razai faded from view, then returned a moment later and repeated Corec’s signals. Their opponents were coming down both streets. And hopefully only those two streets, since those were the only routes Corec and his friends were guarding.

Treya and Josip, who’d been standing near the center of the cross street until they knew where they were needed, split up. Treya joined Boktar and Razai, and Josip came over to Corec’s side.

“Don’t get too close,” Corec said to him. “I don’t want to risk hitting you.” He needed plenty of space to swing his sword. Sarette was used to fighting near him, and she wore armor that would protect her from a stray swing, but Josip didn’t.

The guide nodded, and drew his hand axe and pickaxe from his belt.

Sarette rapped the butt of her spear on the ground, charging it with lightning magic—she was using one of the enchanted staff-spears for the battle, since the charge didn’t fade. Corec detached his sword harness and slid the blade out, leaving the harness and scabbard leaning up against a stone wall. He cast his combat spells in preparation.

“At least we’re not the ones getting ambushed for once,” he muttered, then nodded to Sarette and charged into the intersection, crashing into the first man to arrive—a mercenary with a mace and a shield—and knocking him to the ground.

Before Sarette could join him, Corec whipped his sword around in an arc, slicing the side of another man’s face, and then lodging in the ribs of one of the archers—who was up in front of the advance for some reason. Corec pulled his blade free, then swung down at the man he’d knocked over. The fellow was wearing armor, but as he’d climbed back up to his hands and knees, he’d exposed a gap between his helmet and mail. Corec struck him there, cutting into his neck.

Two more men saw Corec’s glowing sword and attempted to turn and run, but the press of bodies pushed them forward instead. Sarette reached the intersection and tapped a mercenary’s brigandine armor with the blade of her staff-spear, discharging the lightning magic into his body. She quickly charged the weapon again, and took a position at Corec’s back.

A few archers had managed to group together farther down the street, but before they could take aim, one of Ellerie’s beam spells hit the middle one in the chest. The other two scrambled away, but several darts of light followed, hitting the second one in the back.

And then there was no time to think about anything other than the ebb and flow of the battle.

#

“Miss Shavala,” Nedley was saying, “Razai says the archers are mixed in with the others. Corec says if they stay that way, they’ll be harder for you to pick out.”

Shavala nodded. Regardless of the circumstances, she was supposed to do whatever she judged would have the most impact on the battle, but it was still helpful to know in advance. “Did he tell you what to do?” she asked.

Nedley frowned. “I’m supposed to stay here. Can’t I go back down?”

“Don’t be so eager to jump into the middle of a fight,” Katrin said.

“I’m older now than Corec was when he left the knights!” the boy protested. He’d turned seventeen a few days earlier.

“When he left the knights before completing his training, you mean. And that was after he’d been training constantly for six years. And Boktar’s been fighting for decades. What about you?”

“But what if they need help?”

“If they need help down there, we’ll need help here too.”

“Stay with us, Ned,” Bobo said. “We’ll make sure no one sneaks up on the ladies while they’re busy. You can watch the stairs.”

Nedley looked down and sighed, but then nodded, moving over to stand in front of the stairwell. He’d been coming out of his shell over the past few weeks, finally expressing himself more, but Shavala agreed with the decision to keep him away from the fighting. He could handle himself against poorly trained opponents, but a few months of training with Rusol’s mercenary army and a few months more with Corec and Boktar didn’t make him a soldier. Seventeen was just so young.

Of course, to Shavala, even Corec seemed dreadfully young. On the nights she shared his bed, she had to remind herself that humans aged at different rates than elves. Sometimes she considered staying away from his tent until he turned one hundred and eleven, the elven age of majority. That might actually be possible with what they knew about the warden bond. But then she would decide she was just being silly, and join him anyway.

“You’re stringing your bow?” Katrin asked her. “Corec wants us to stay out of sight.” They were hoping to avoid attracting the attention of the enemy archers and wizard.

“I just want it ready if I need it.” Even if she wasn’t intending to use it, it would have been strange to go into a fight without her bow close at hand. Shavala had been an archer for forty years, much longer than she’d been training as a druid. The unfortunate truth was that she simply wasn’t strong enough for her arrows to pierce armor. The new arrows were better in that regard, especially the darker-tipped ones, but they still weren’t enough. She could make incredible shots when she needed to, mostly while hunting, but it was harder in the middle of a battle, with her opponents swirling around the field. To be effective, she’d practically need to know where her targets were planning to move before they knew it themselves.

She finished with her bow and propped it up against the wall, near her quiver and the strange tershaya staff she’d found below the mountain.

All that was left to do was wait. It didn’t take long. They heard the enemy before they saw them, and then they appeared, streaming down the street that would lead them to Boktar’s position. He, Razai, and Treya were staying hidden along the cross street until the time was right.

Katrin peered through the window at an angle, trying to keep from being seen. “They’re still bunched up. I think … I think they’re coming down both streets. Can you reach the archers?”

“Yes,” Shavala said. With how the streets twisted and turned, their opponents were only visible along a three-block stretch south from her position, which put them close enough for her spells. “I don’t know which one the wizard is. Should I wait for them to reach Boktar, or start now?”

There was a commotion to the west as Corec and Sarette charged into the intersection they were guarding, surprising the enemy armsmen who were coming down the other street. The ones along the eastern side realized what was happening and rushed forward, looking for a way west to support their compatriots. They ran into Boktar and Razai, who suddenly appeared from behind a building, surprising them. The two quickly took out their first opponents, then settled in for a longer battle. Treya took a position behind them to keep them from being surrounded.

Katrin burst into song, and the next rank of men turned and fled in a panic, trampling their companions in their haste to get away.

Then Razai disappeared, and in her place was an eight-foot-tall demon with horns and tusks, wielding two curved swords. She’d warned everyone about her plan, but it was still startling to see it appear so suddenly. The beast roared and more men tried to run, but then there was a strange, echoing shout from farther back in the ranks. The runners stopped and turned back to the front, confused expressions on their faces. A moment later, the illusion disappeared. The men who’d run from Katrin hadn’t returned, but Razai looked frustrated as she attacked the ones she’d been trying to frighten away.

In the absence of finding the wizard, Corec had hoped Shavala could catch the archers in a single massive fire, but with them all spread out like this, it wasn’t possible. The most effective option would probably be a wall of flame to the south, tall enough to prevent any archers behind it from finding a target, while also blocking off enough of the others to keep them from overwhelming the intersection.

Shavala prepared the spell in her mind, along with the spells that would follow it—pillars of flame, as she identified any archers who weren’t blocked behind the larger wall of fire. If she could eliminate the worst of the threats, perhaps the others would surrender or flee and she wouldn’t have to kill them.

She stepped up to the window and began casting the first spell, and then …

Pain.

She cried out and fell to the floor, her head in agony. A splitting headache, far worse than any she’d ever imagined, and it had spiked just as she’d tried to loose the wall of flame.

No, she felt. It wasn’t a word so much as a concept, a feeling. It repeated itself. No.

It was the staff, she realized. It was trying to communicate with her.

“Shavala!” Katrin exclaimed, abandoning her song. “What’s wrong? Bobo, help!”

Shavala tried to crawl to the staff, hampered by the pain and by Katrin crouching down and grabbing her by the shoulders.

She finally reached it, grasping the wooden shaft in her hands. “I have to!” she said to it.

“Have to what?” Katrin asked.

No, the staff expressed again.

I have to protect my friends! she insisted.

Uncertainty. Then, no.

Why? They need me! If she didn’t help, Boktar and Razai could be overrun or targeted by too many archers. Ellerie’s arrow shield didn’t extend far enough to reach Boktar’s position. It was Shavala’s responsibility to deal with the archers on this side.

Uncertainty. Life. Death.

The pain grew more intense, and Shavala curled up on the floor, still clutching the staff. “What does that mean?” she cried out in Elven.

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” Katrin said, a look of fear on her face as she pulled Shavala’s body close to her.

“I can’t find any injuries!” Bobo said, prodding at her. “Was she hit with something?”

“I don’t know!” Katrin said.

Shavala attempted the spell again, but the pain was even sharper this time.

Why are you doing this? she asked.

Confusion.

She sobbed quietly as Katrin held her, the battle raging on below them.

#

Treya sidestepped the knife and grabbed the man’s arm, twisting it out of its socket. As he doubled over in pain, she slammed her knee into his face. The knife men weren’t trained fighters—they seemed more like farmers than anything—but they could still be dangerous, and some of them were picking up other weapons that their armsmen had lost on the battlefield.

Worse, there seemed to be no end to them. Treya had joined Boktar and Razai to help them against the overwhelming numbers, but no other support had come their way. Katrin’s singing had trailed off early on, and Shavala hadn’t made any attempts to stop the archers. Had the enemy found where they were hiding so quickly?

Boktar wouldn’t be in danger from the archers, but neither Treya nor Razai wore armor. The only thing that had saved them so far was that the bowmen were stuck in the crush of the melee, and would have a difficult time making a shot with their own people in the way.

Then, twenty feet down the street, one of the archers scrambled up a half-collapsed wall to give himself room to use his bow. He nocked an arrow and drew, aiming for Razai.

Treya couldn’t get to him through the press of people. Without stopping to think about it, she braced her feet in a fighting stance and thrust her palms out as if she was striking his chest. She was too far away to reach him, but, somehow, he went flying backward off the wall, his bowstave snapping in two.

Before she could figure out what she’d just done, there was a cry of pain from the other intersection. Josip had fallen. Treya needed to get to him, but there was a man sneaking up behind Boktar with a cudgel. She slipped around him, then spun back and slammed her glowing palm into his nose, causing an awful crunching sound. As he stumbled back, shouting in pain, she kicked him between the legs as hard as she could.

With her way clear, she dashed to the western side of the block, where Corec and Sarette had moved to shield Josip. Treya grasped his shoulders and used all of her strength to pull him away from the melee. Even after years of training, she wasn’t particularly strong, but the divine blessing that helped her fight also helped with this.

Once she had him a safe distance away, she laid her hands on his head and reached out with her healing senses. He’d been stabbed in the chest, and his arm had been hit hard enough to shatter the bone. Both were serious injuries, but it was the chest wound that was killing him. She focused on that first, directing healing magic to knit his organs and ribs back together.

There was a flurry of movement as Corec charged forward so he could swing his blade in wider arcs. He managed to push the armsmen back, giving Sarette and himself a bit of breathing room, but it didn’t take long before they were swarmed again.

From this vantage point, it was obvious there were more of the trained mercenaries here than in Boktar’s intersection. Corec and Sarette were holding them back while Ellerie’s spells streaked overhead, but there were too many of them, and Treya’s friends were stuck fighting just to defend themselves.

They needed help, but Josip’s wounds were severe, and Treya needed more time to heal him.

He was awake now, though. “My axe and pick,” he muttered, pushing himself up so he could lean against the nearest wall.

“They’re buried in there somewhere,” Treya said, indicating the mass of people in the intersection. “And you’re not in any shape to do anything anyway. You need to stay here.”

He grunted but didn’t argue, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. She pushed another surge of healing magic into his body, but at that moment, one of the mercenaries broke through while Corec and Sarette were distracted by the others. He saw her and grinned, raising his sword.

Treya jumped to her feet and tried a risky maneuver, brushing her hand against the blade as he struck at her. She managed to guide it away from her body, then she advanced on him, striking faster than he could block, pushing him back toward the intersection. Just as they reached it, Sarette’s staff-spear slashed down against his metal armor, releasing the charge of lightning magic it held. The mercenary fell to the ground.

Sarette had blood running down her cheek, but even if she’d been able to step away from the fight, Treya couldn’t heal her and watch over Josip at the same time. And what would she do if Razai or Boktar needed healing?

She couldn’t be everywhere at once. Then she remembered the day they’d fought the zombies. She’d done something to the zombies, but she’d done something else that day, too. If she could just remember how …

Taking a deep breath, she gathered as much healing magic as she could, then thrust her arms out to the sides, trying to extend her spell as wide as possible.

There was no bell tone this time, but the pulses of light still came, washing over her allies. As the first reached Josip, he drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes, looking more alert.

The pulses continued emanating from Treya’s body even after she lowered her arms to her sides. It was a healing spell, of sorts. Without an intelligence to guide it, she doubted it was as good as directly healing someone, but it would continue on its own and work at a distance.

It would have to do. Even with Ellerie’s help, Corec and Sarette were close to being overwhelmed as they tried to fight off dozens of the mercenaries. Treya would have to take Josip’s place on this side of the battle, leaving Boktar and Razai to manage on their own. Hopefully Shavala and Katrin would be able to help them.

But even if they did, she wasn’t sure it would be enough.

#

Fox watched the battle from the roof of an empty building, waiting for the right moment.

He’d been anticipating this day for months, ever since he’d first learned Snake might still be alive. Now, the evidence was here before his eyes, and he could no longer deny it. The two priests below bore his brother’s scent.

That meant there was a new player in the game, a player who’d remained hidden for thousands of years. It changed the delicate balance between the other players, throwing all the potential futures into chaos. What did Snake want?

Up until now, Fox had tried to stay out of the game, making only tiny adjustments when they were needed. He’d taken direct action just once, when he, Bear, and Raven had determined that The Lady’s plan had to be stopped. She’d been so blinded by her hatred for Pallisur, she hadn’t seen that she’d be creating something even worse—a semi-immortal godling unbound by either the rules the gods placed on themselves or by the strictures that governed the connections between the realms.

Fox hoped The Lady had found wisdom since that day, but he doubted it. After all, it was she who had killed Wisdom.

Ironically, her plan would have reinforced the structural integrity of the Collision, at least for a while. That should have been Fox’s primary concern, ensuring the realms remained stable. But he’d watched the mortal world for millennia, since the people were first learning to use tools. He’d constructed his identity based on one of the creatures that lived there. Without stimuli to provoke change and creation, his own world had once been a featureless void consisting only of thought, but within the mortal realm, he and his brothers had found purpose.

His first duty was to safeguard the Collision, but if it was possible, he would save the mortal world too—at least from the worst of the potential fates that might befall it. And with any luck, neither the demon lords nor these new gods would ever realize the truth about their linked realms. The demons were too destructive to be trusted with the knowledge, while the gods seemed intent on taking power for themselves without bothering to first understand the consequences.

But that was a worry for another day.

Today, in this place, the fight was much smaller—a tiny piece of a very large puzzle. The first part of Fox’s plan to counter Snake had already been put in place, though he hoped it would never be needed.

The second part was needed now.

He chose his target and struck.