It takes everything within me not to stagger back at the man’s name. Ben Errol. Is he related to Dan Errol? Very likely. I haven’t heard Pa’s surname elsewhere.

I watch the man, subtly sniffing the air. My heart aches something fierce as his scent reaches my nose… so similar to Pa, and yet not. “Do you know what happened to your brother?” It’s a guess. Pa spoke some of a younger brother, one who he was quite fond of but spoke with a shimmering irritation, as if they did not see exactly eye to eye.

His eyes harden. “Is that a threat?” he growls in an excellent imitation of a wolf, his voice raspy as if it’s hard to speak from the scar at his throat.

I shake my head, a single tear trailing my cheek.

His eyes follow the tear, an expression crossing his hard face I cannot read. He looks beyond me into something I cannot see. “He is safe,” he says, a pleading within the words. He leans forward slightly, hard eyes snapping back to me with something else in their depths. “Please,” he whispers.

So this is the man who likely ensured Pa lived, even when his family was taken. A man high in the army and likely quite rich in both money and power to make Pa remind behind and safe while his family was accused of treason.

“He is with the Allfather,” I say, my voice low and reverent.

Shock shows on the man’s face. His brows pinch and wrinkles show on his forehead. “No. It cannot be. He is alive and well. It was promised.”

I shake my head. “He gave his life for many, my own life included.”

He shakes his head, denial on his face and coating his words. But there is a stricken pain in his eyes I feel down to my soul. “I wish to see his body.”

I nod. “He is buried in the ancient way of the dwarves. I will show you. But first, let us come to terms.”

He scowls at me. “Terms? You’ve stolen our mages, killed our men, and expect us to parlay?”

I stride closer, using my height against him as I stare down at the man. My chest heaves. “You’ve killed my family, attacked those I love, and killed hundreds of thousands of innocent creatures. Not to mention enslaving however many thousands as fodder for your armies. You may think me to be the evil here, but you need to take a very close look in the mirror if you think yourself any better than us.”

He holds my glare, but then backs down and looks away. “We will parlay.”

“Send your men across the river and bring forth any prisoners. If you hold even one, hundreds will pay with their lives.” I let Beast flicker out from me, and the jingoist bring their hands up to shield themselves from his light. Some stumble back with whimpers. Others go down to their knees, the sickly-sweet ammonia scent of urine striking my nose.

“It will be done.” I can tell he still doesn’t like me, but he will do as asked.

I hope.

A tent is risen in the center of the clearing outside Videlia. Flash leads the black dragons to me, hopping down and scratching the male under his chin like I’ve done with Nova. The male recoils, watching Flash as if he were something smelly on the bottom of his foot.

Flash grins at him and waves then walks to me, looking me up and down with a critical eye. I do the same, seeing his arm in a sling and half his face matted in blood. But he’s alive, and that’s what matters.

“You going to drop half-dead yet, mate?”

I shake my head, a grin pulling at my lips. I get him in a hug, slapping his back. “Glad you made it, too, shashon,” I whisper.

He slaps my back, and I straighten with a hidden wince that he doesn’t miss.

“Ahh, you’re fine, right?” He grins, taking the sting from his chiding. “I’m still waiting on you to drop,” he says, pumping his eyebrows.

I slap his good shoulder, too tired to chuckle. “Hows everyone faring?”

“Tim and Jace are directing the forces while David and General Brackenridge are directing the injured and tallying the dead. Zephora was badly injured, but is stable.” He looks away, voice breaking. My heart drops, but I will be there for him just as he has for me.

I clasp his shoulder, forcing him to look at me. “She’s strong,” I say simply. “Go, be with her.”

He shakes his head. “No. Give me something to do. Please,” he begs, squeezing his eyes shut as his shoulders droop.

I watch him another moment, sensing the war within himself and the pain of seeing a loved one hurt. Sorrow and pain colors the air and makes my eyes smart.

“Alright,” I say, my voice low.

He takes a deep breath and nods. I give him a moment to gather himself, but I do need someone to coordinate a few things and it will help him get his mind off things.

“Can you be my right-hand man for a bit?”

“Always, your majesty,” he says, smirking, even if his eyes are still shadowed with anxiety.

I shake my head, a smile teasing my lips. But then I sober. “The dragons hold the Yellow Master hostage. Please get him to the city and have someone strip his clothes and boots and lock him in silver chains. Drug him with wolfsbane.”

He raises both eyebrows, looking surprised.

“He is the one who killed my father, Flash. Please don’t let him escape.”

His eyebrows lower into a glower as his lips press into a thin line. “I will ensure it, Imperialamus,” he says, striking a fist to his chest, no hint of teasing on his face or words this time.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice cracking. I take a deep breath. “How fares the city?”

“The people in the city fared better than us on the walls. But the fires still burn.”

I look back at Videlia, just then realizing how much smoke is clouding the sky above the city and making it look like there is a thunderstorm brewing above the walls. The smell of ash is strong as it falls like snow on the blood-stained field.

“I will send the dragons to help. They understand human language, so merely direct them and they will help with the flames.” His blue eyes grow wide. “Send a party to find Nova. She went down… Morgana should be with her and if I am to prevent more deaths, I can’t—“ I take a deep breath, trying to keep panic at bay.

Flash clasps my shoulder much as I had just done his. “We will find her, Roland. I promise.”

I nod my thanks. “Get someone to help any injured on this field. And I want you to bring David and General Brackenridge out here to help with the parlay.”

He raises a brow. “A parlay?”

“I scared the krisour out of them. What did you expect?”

“I expected them to turn tail and run as soon as my dragons were gone. Not discuss terms over tea.”

“You and me both,” I mutter. Louder, I say, “A parlay is what’s coming and I need wisdom on my side. Get them out here and bring five of your best fighters. If things go ugly…”

“We’ll be ready,” Flash says, fire in his eyes. He turns to go after a playful salute.

“Flash…” he turns back around, raising his brow. “Thank you. All you and your people have done… just thank you.”

He gives a roguish grin, but his eyes remain serious. “Aww, you gonna cry?”

I laugh. It comes out a high-pitched growl. “Get out of here and follow my orders!”

He gives me a mocking bow, his eyes twinkling. “Sir yes sir!”

Someone puts food in my hands, and I realize I’m ravenous. I don’t even realize what it is before it’s halfway down my throat. It’s some sort of slimy vegetable mix that makes me gag.

I lick my lips, looking at the cauliflower and broccoli on a stick. “What is this?”

Jace cackles from beside me. “It’s good for you, your highness. Good for you,” he says, his eyes twinkling and his grin stretching across his face.

“Don’t you have any meat?” I growl.

He shrugs. “Of course! But starving wolves will eat whatever they’re given.” He gestures to the large bite out of the food, proving his point.

“You’re hoarding the meat.” He doesn’t refute my accusation, just stares with a slight smirk. I growl in frustration, my stomach echoing the growl.

He laughs, eyes crinkling in a devious grin. A Were takes pity and sits something else in my hands.

I look up to see the dark eyes and hair of Bridget’s father. “Here, your majesty. This may be more to your liking,” he says with a straight face. But his lips twitch and the tangy and sweet scent of amusement colors the air.

“Thank you,” I say.

Around a mouthful, I glare at Jace.

But he’s already halfway through a meat stick he pulled from his pocket. He grins, showing bits of meat in his teeth. I shake my head, fighting both annoyance and humor.