Chapter Three WITCHING MOON

Chapter Three

WITCHING MOON

Week One, Day Ten

Year 3000

Spring always came slowly to the mountains. Even with the sun well overhead, its light shining cheerfully in a cloudless blue sky, the breeze that tugged at Ash's hair as he leaned against the parapet held the bite of lingering chill.

Not that anyone crowded around the practice yard below seemed to notice.

The clash of steel rang on that same cool breeze, each impact so fast it formed an eerie sort of music. At the heart of the chaos, Zanya cut a graceful, brutal path through each of the Raven Guard in turn. She wielded newly forged double blades like they were an extension of herself, blocking blows from Remi's axes as easily as she parried Malindra's longsword.

Isolde rushed her from behind, but Zanya spun and raised her crossed swords, catching the downswing of Isolde's mighty war axe. Then she kicked the other woman squarely in the chest with enough force to send her smashing through the wooden fence around the practice ring and hurtling toward the keep walls. Isolde exploded into a mass of ravens in the instant before impact, regrouping in a flutter of wings before reforming as a woman kneeling in the dirt, panting.

"They're using powers now," Ash noted, watching Kardox's doomed attempt to close with Zanya. Moments later, he skidded across the dusty ground to join Isolde, and Zanya spun to catch Ambrial mid-swing, disarming the knight. Another mass of ravens formed, flying in all directions to narrowly escape the swing of Zanya's second blade.

"They have to," Ulric rumbled, watching the mayhem below play out through golden eyes that saw too much. "I haven't tested her fully, but she's stronger than them now. Maybe stronger than me. And her speed ..." He huffed. "And she hasn't even mastered that shadow trick yet. Once she does, she'll be impossible to hit."

She might also spend a full night in their bed. Ash had tried not to take it personally, the way Zanya tended to startle and vanish beneath his touch, but he felt as if he were back at the beginning with her again. He'd seduced her with violence the last time, playing on the hunger for dominance that lurked beneath her skin. On her eagerness to defeat a fellow predator.

A dangerous spark, and he'd reveled in the deadly attraction between them. But this wasn't a game anymore. This was the rest of their lives ... and this time Ash had to seduce her with safety. When she trusted him enough to be vulnerable with him, he expected the shadows would stop stealing her away.

Today, in the training yard, there was nothing vulnerable about her. The five members of the Raven Guard were legendary warriors. Ash had seen them devastate battlefields. They dominated any fight they walked into, because they'd been extraordinary even before death had claimed them. With the strength of their rebirth and the power to change forms ...

And, five against one, Zanya was making them work for it.

Ash didn't know if he was terrified or fascinated—a common problem when faced with Zanya at the best of times, and an inconvenient one when every instinct he had screamed at him to descend on that practice yard. He wanted to be the one who tested her. Who pushed her. The one who honed that rough brilliance into the warrior she would become.

Something beyond a legend. The god of destruction itself.

She would be glorious.

Ulric sighed.

"What?"

"That look on your face." The Wolf shot him a disgruntled look. "This is how we ended up with a slaughtered lordling yesterday. She needs a teacher willing to grab her by the scruff of the neck when she gets out of line—"

A growl rose out of Ash's chest, utterly beyond his control. Deep beneath them, the earth responded with a rumble that made the castle walls shiver.

"See?" Ulric said mildly. "You can't play both lover and trainer, Ash. You can't spar with her because it heats your blood and then go easy on her just because you're feeling protective."

"I'm not going easy on her," he muttered.

Ulric just stared at him.

Fine, he knew it for a lie. A newborn god with the power to kill could not be coddled. He should have spent the night walking her through her loss of control, stripping away excuses and defense. He should have made her see that someone with their strength had no cause to recklessly slay a mortal. There were a thousand ways she could have ended the confrontation. She should have been forced to list them all, until the responsibility of her power lived in her bones as pure instinct.

Unbidden, the image of Zanya's back rose in his imagination. Light-brown skin marred by delicate, raised scars—a childhood of lashings and abuse that had left their mark. The only reason she didn't have more was because she'd begun healing too fast for the scars to set. Zanya understood brutal training all too well.

It was all she understood.

A lifetime of pain, and only a scant few weeks to begin believing that she might have a future beyond it. How could he cage her when she had barely tasted her first gasp of free air? "You're right. I have seen the scars they left on her body and soul. I cannot bring myself to add to them."

"I know," Ulric replied, his voice gentle. "She needs to feel safe. That is a lover's role, and you're very good at it. But she must be taught to control herself, old friend. Yesterday, she struck the head from a noble brat none of us will miss. Next time, it could be the head of a guard who startles her, or a servant who wakes her from a bad dream. Next time, it could be you. Or Sachielle ."

Ash gripped the stone before him and watched as Zanya twirled and tumbled, steel flashing bright under the blazing sun as she parried and slashed and blocked. Kardox was panting for breath, his weariness showing in his sluggish attacks. The twins, Remi and Isolde, looked exhausted. Ambrial was next to fall victim to one of Zanya's vicious kicks, and unlike Malindra, she didn't transform in time. Her body hit the stone wall hard enough to shake it.

They'd been going since sunup, and Zanya didn't even look winded.

"You're right," Ash admitted, hating the words and knowing them for truth. "I can—"

"No," Ulric cut in. " Not you, for all the reasons we just discussed. You will be her lover and her protector. But Elevia and I will be her teachers, the ones who draw the lines she must not be allowed to cross."

Three thousand years of friendship was the only thing that allowed Ash to relax his grip on the parapet. Elevia and Ulric would be unyielding when it came to teaching Zanya the responsibilities and safe usage of her new powers, but they would not be cruel.

And he would be freed from these conflicting instincts.

"Thank you." Ash watched as Zanya disarmed Kardox for the final time. The man held up both hands to yield, and Zanya spun as if anticipating the next blow. None came. She'd exhausted the entire Raven Guard. Disappointment tightened her features for a heartbeat before she masked it, sheathed her swords, and moved to help Kardox back to his feet.

Would restless energy still drive her from their shared bed tonight? His steward had reported that she haunted the halls more often than not, startling servants as she endlessly paced the corridors with shadows curled around her like attentive guardians. It had been too many centuries since he'd first manifested his power to remember if he'd felt that same restlessness. Physically? Perhaps. The increased vitality and stamina could be unsettling.

But Ash suspected Zanya's problems were more deeply rooted. For two decades, she'd spent every moment training for one purpose—to kill the Dragon. She was an assassin trained for a job that no longer existed. Everything she'd been taught to do, to want, to be ...

A whistle sounded from the base of the tower. Ash leaned over far enough to see Elevia standing there, her hands propped on her hips.

"Well, come on, then," she called up to them. "This silly little war isn't going to strategize itself."

Feeling too restless to bother with the stairs, Ash hopped up onto the parapet. Wings might have made the five-story drop more graceful, but it would take a much greater fall to hurt him. Especially when the earth seemed to gentle beneath his landing, shivering to disperse the impact before firming beneath his feet. He smiled and stroked fond fingers over the cobblestones before rising.

He met Elevia's raised eyebrow with a mild smile as a massive wolf landed deftly beside him. Golden eyes glared balefully before the creature shook its fur. A ripple of magic followed, and Ulric resumed his human form. Those gold eyes still looked grumpy, though. "Are we feeling too melodramatic for stairs today?"

"Only a fool keeps the Huntress waiting," Ash replied mildly.

"Flattery will not get you out of this," Elevia shot back.

"Don't worry, Huntress." Ulric slapped Ash on the back so hard he almost staggered. "We had the talk. Ash has agreed to step aside."

"Well, that's a relief. I was starting to think I'd have to physically move him out of our way."

Ash sighed but was spared coming up with a witty retort when Zanya approached them. She'd toweled off her face and tied her black hair back into a neat braid, erasing any proof that she'd just spent an entire morning in frantic combat.

She still nearly trembled with barely leashed energy as she fell into step beside them. "Are we going to the meeting now?"

"We are," Ash confirmed. "And after that, Ulric and Elevia have offered to take over as your official trainers."

"Official?" Zanya raised one dark eyebrow and glanced at the Huntress. "What does that mean?"

"It means I won't be nearly as indulgent as Ash," Elevia replied, "but you'll probably learn more. If you're willing to put in the work."

The Huntress knew exactly how to bait a trap. Zanya's dark eyes practically gleamed at the challenge—her hunger to pit herself against them and find her own strength was insatiable, and for the first time in her life she was around people eager to encourage her to do just that. "I am."

"Good," Ulric said. "We'll start after the meeting."

The cobblestone path opened into the market square, where plenty of folks were out doing their midday shopping and selling. Some of the transactions that went on between the residents of Dragon's Keep operated on a barter system—those who grew crops or tended animals traded with those who excelled at crafts or provided other services. But many more sold their surplus to Ash's steward, Camlia, who paid premium prices in High Court tokens. Cold cellars deep beneath the castle, blessed by Aleksi's touch and wrapped in Inga's magic, held goods and produce in stasis for long months, ensuring that there would always be fresh food for sale for the residents of Dragon's Keep.

Some of the shops they passed held food from Ash's cellars. Others plied freshly cooked meals, or handmade crafts and goods. A few stalls were always claimed by daring traders who braved the intimidating climb to reach the castle and were rewarded with brisk sales of harder-to-obtain items—books always went swiftly, as did luxuries from the capital.

Only two outside traders were here today, and both watched Ash's party cross the square with wary eyes. Whatever rumors had been seeded by the court of the Mortal Lords in the past weeks had clearly found fertile ground, if even those who had trusted Ash enough to cross into his domain now eyed him with discomfort.

Then again, those wary gazes might be following Zanya. Even mortals seemed to see the darkness around her now, an impossible aura of glittering shadows that whispered of danger. Those accustomed to moving among the High Court had taken it in stride. But outsiders ...

Outsiders had always spooked more easily.

But there was nothing Ash could do about it right now. They left the market behind and stepped onto the Godwalk, the long row of towering estates that housed the High Court when they were in residence.

It had pleased Ash to build his friends extravagant homes within his domain. Each of the six buildings could have been called a modest castle in its own right, with fortified gates leading to spacious courtyards, and multiple stories of well-appointed rooms leading to towers that climbed toward the sky.

Bright, colorful banners hung down the front of each stone edifice when its owner was in residence—Inga's vivid pink was missing on the right, but the Lover's deep-amethyst standard stirred in the breeze. Surprisingly, so did the Siren's sapphire blue. "Dianthe's here?"

Ulric shrugged. "She didn't come through the front gates."

No, she wouldn't have been able to without fanfare. Then again, the Siren could go anywhere water touched. She'd described it once as passing through the ocean at the heart of the world, which didn't explain why she could dive into the water on the other side of the Sheltered Lands and surface in the fountain in her courtyard here at Dragon's Keep as easily as stepping from her bathtub. Ash tried not to think about it much—especially after a disastrous attempt to take him with her in their youth had been his closest brush with death outside of the War of the Gods.

Drowning in the heart of the ocean sounded much more poetic than it had felt.

On the left, the Phoenix's orange banner remained painfully absent. The Wolf's dark green was a typical sight, as Ulric spent as much time in residence here as he did in his own modest keep in the Midnight Forest. They passed it and turned toward Elevia's home, her golden banner waving proudly above their heads as the group headed through the open gates into her neatly organized courtyard.

Since her actual home was so near, Elevia treated her section of the Godwalk like a hunting lodge. Hounds bayed and scampered about the courtyard, which was filled with tanning racks, game-processing tables, and heavy cauldrons bubbling on tripod stands over low fires. There was even a small smokehouse, bleeding fragrant woodsmoke into the clear blue sky. Outside, two racks bore rows of fish—one set brined and ready to go into the smokehouse, and another that had just come out and was about to be packed into barrels.

They crossed through a smaller gate and into the cooler darkness of the main building. Elevia led them to the left, to her war room.

Walking into it always felt to Ash like what it must be to walk into Elevia's mind. The vast space was well-lit and ruthlessly organized. The far wall was lined two stories high with bookshelves packed with so many volumes, he'd often imagined she owned a copy of every book ever put to print. A row of knee-high shelves held tightly rolled maps of every village and defensible structure in the Sheltered Lands. More cabinets held neatly organized correspondence from hundreds of sources scattered across their lands. Some she kept in records. Most she stored in her head.

Very little happened that Elevia did not hear about eventually.

But the main feature of the room was a massive wooden table over six paces long on which the Sheltered Lands stretched out before them in breathtaking miniature. The western mountains carved up into the air, knife sharp. Delicately painted waterfalls plunged down their sides into the main river that flowed the length of the table and spilled into Siren's Bay. The Midnight Forest's deep-green pines spilled into the Witchwood's maples, the individual trees stretching out branches as fine as eyelashes from which tiny, brightly colored leaves trembled. The gentle rolling curves of the Burning Hills gave way to lush green around the Lover's Lakes. The sparkle of water seemed so real that sometimes Ash expected to see tiny waves blowing in the breeze.

At the war table's head, Sachi perched on a stool with her hands folded in her lap, waiting patiently.

Ash hurried to her, concern rising. "Sachi, are you well?"

"Quite." She blinked up at him, her momentary bemusement quickly supplanted by an affectionate smile. "And you?"

"I'm fine." He hesitated. "You don't have to be here for this, if you don't wish it. You've suffered enough at the hands of those in the capital."

"Which is precisely why I asked her to join us. The time she spent in the Mortal Lords' court could offer insight beyond any we possess." Elevia propped her hands on her hips and pinned Ash with a flat stare. "If you have a problem with it ..."

"I can do this, Ash," Sachi told him quietly. "She's right. You don't know them the way I do."

"No one does," Zanya said flatly. She'd circled him to stand behind Sachi, a protective shadow who traced soothing fingers down Sachi's arm. "None of us would last a week trying to navigate court politics. But she found a way to dominate them, even with no real power."

Pride was clear in her voice. Ash acknowledged it with a dip of his head. "I never meant to question if you could ." He brushed his thumb over Sachi's cheek. "I just hate the idea that you must. I'd rather protect you from it."

Sachi wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "Likewise."

"Glad we're all in agreement, then," Elevia said wryly, just as Aleksi strolled through the door with Dianthe on his arm. "You're late. And don't blame it on Dianthe."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Aleksi smiled easily. "It was entirely my fault. A thousand apologies."

"Perfection takes time." The Siren teased her fingers playfully through Aleksi's hair to dishevel it. "I wouldn't want to rush him."

But Elevia didn't laugh, or even smile. She was wholly and completely focused on the task at hand. "Shall we begin?"

Dianthe moved to the foot of the table, hovering over the bay that bore her name. Ash took his place at the head, facing the mountains that cradled his keep. Instinctive positions, reflecting how they had always guarded the continent between them. While fire and earth had always sung in his veins, the Siren controlled the moods of the sea and the temper of the winds. It made them stronger than the others, their gifts being so immediately tied up in the rhythms of their very world.

It also meant responsibility lay heavily across them both whenever that world was threatened.

Ash might be the nominal leader of the High Court, but it was Dianthe who spoke. "Huntress, tell us what you know."

"The answer to that, sadly, is not much ." Elevia walked around the table to stand next to Dianthe and indicated the capital. "We know that the death of Dalvish II left a power void at court. The king's heir, Princess Anikke, was too young—and perhaps too inexperienced—to effect a smooth ascension to the throne. Which has left us with a handful of power-hungry regents ruling the Sheltered Lands with a malleable child as their figurehead."

Aleksi shook his head. "A regrettable situation."

"Mmm. Especially since their attention seems to be firmly focused in this direction." She nodded toward the red flags that marked the sites of the attacks Ash had been forced to answer. "They're obviously making repeated—and, let us note, successful—attempts to draw Ash out of his highly defensible keep. The question is, to what end? Sadly, I've thought of numerous possibilities myself, and Aleksi keeps adding more to the list."

Ash bit back another sigh. "Dare I ask?"

"The two likeliest options are the simplest." Aleksi ticked them off on his fingers. "Either they're so arrogant they think they can kill you, or they're trying to give the Betrayer a clear chance to do it."

His former brother might well take a chance to kill him, if he thought he could. But the last time the two of them had clashed, they'd called it the War of the Gods—and they'd nearly broken the world in two.

The Betrayer had spent the last three thousand years building his own Empire and consolidating his power. Did he still fear a clash between them? Or was he sure he would win? "So those are the obvious reasons," Ash said. "What are the less obvious ones?"

"Sachi," Zanya growled. "You said the Betrayer wants Sachi."

"Oh, yes. The Betrayer wants Sachi," Elevia agreed. "Just as I'm sure the regents want you , Zanya. You murdered their king in his own bedchamber. My spies tell me there was even a witness—Dalvish's favored mistress, cowering in a false closet, her arrival thwarted by yours. They must be desperate to be rid of you, just in case you decide to perform an encore, this time on one of them."

Zanya's hands curled into fists at her side, but she said nothing. Her expression said enough—anger and guilt did battle across her expressive features, a conflict sparked by the sure knowledge that her actions yesterday would only make things worse. Ash wanted to reach out to her, but she wouldn't welcome it. Not here, in front of the others.

Sachi spoke. "How do we determine what their reasons are?"

"We don't, my lady." Elevia shrugged. "Their motivations are of no real consequence. Ash is not prepared to stay home while they murder innocents, and neither are any of the rest of us." She glanced around the table. "Any refutations on that point?"

"You know there will be none," Dianthe murmured from the foot of the table. She was dressed in her usual vivid blue—today in a sleeveless tunic that revealed the golden tattoos weaving across warm brown skin the entire length of her arms. Her eyes, normally a deep brown, glowed an electric blue as her tone dropped. "Though no more of the regents' troops will be moved by river or sea. They will have to cross overland."

"And those movements will be observed and reported back to me, so we should be reasonably aware of their comings and goings." Elevia stared down at the table, her gaze practically boring holes in the Western Wall. "No, what we need is actionable intelligence about the Betrayer. Let the regents writhe like fish on a hook. He's the one who could wreak real destruction."

Ulric's fingers traced over the base of the Burning Hills. "Has there been any word of the Phoenix?"

"Vague rumors," Elevia answered. "Dianthe has already dispatched Einar to investigate the latest one, but as of now, I can offer nothing solid."

"Einar can track a whisper in a whirlwind," Dianthe said. "So far, he's found nothing, either."

Aleksi frowned down at the table. "Then we have to locate the Phoenix. It's our only way forward. We must know what they've discovered about the Betrayer's plans."

"Agreed." Elevia sighed. "But all we can do is keep looking."

"I can try."

It was Sachi's voice, soft but sure. Every gaze swung to her, but she faced down the table of gods with the steely dignity that had entranced Ash from the start.

Her spine and spirit might thrill him, but the thought of her setting foot out of this castle with the Betrayer determined to claim her kindled a dangerous protectiveness in him. And the idea of her lost in the vast expanse of the Empire? "Sachi, we've spoken of the danger—"

"I won't have to leave the keep," she reassured him. "But you said the Phoenix has a particular affinity for the Dream, yes? Perhaps I can use that. Find them in the Dream."

For an endless heartbeat, he simply stared at her. At her big blue eyes, her upturned nose, her lushly curved lips that smiled so readily. She had golden hair that flowed down her back like sunshine, and golden skin that ...

He'd gotten so used to her over the past weeks that he'd stopped seeing it, the same way he'd stopped seeing the magic that flowed from the other members of the High Court. But even in a room cut off from sunlight, Sachielle glowed, as if an iridescent rainbow of light exploded from her in all directions, a light that screamed of joy and hope. The exact inverse of the moody, deadly midnight glitter that surrounded Zanya.

Zanya's traumatic and dazzling manifestation had left little room to forget exactly what she was now—the power of the Endless Void cloaked in human flesh. The essence of an ancient primordial power, destruction and chaos.

There had been no equally dramatic awakening for Sachi, but her power still hummed beneath her skin as a gentle warning. And Ash knew what she was, in the depths of his soul. Zanya's equal. Her mirror.

The Everlasting Dream, given human form.

How reckless he had been, to ignore such a potent weapon in their armory. They had no idea what she could do if she set her mind to it. And he hadn't bothered to ask, because even with Zanya's instability and wariness, the last few weeks with Sachi had been like a fairy tale. After centuries of enduring the fear and horror of consorts trained to loathe him, he'd been gifted with this sweet ray of sunshine.

Sachi had slipped into his life as if she'd always belonged there, taking up the long-neglected tasks of a string of unwilling consorts with earnest joy. His steward adored her. The servants worshipped her. His castle, too long shrouded in tense dread and darkness, had come to life under her hands.

Ash had waited three thousand years for the consort promised to him by whispers in dreams. But that hadn't been the only promise, had it?

The Dragon's consort will break the Builder's chains, and the people will dream again.

It was pure selfishness to hoard her in his castle like a private treasure. Especially when he knew she was meant for so much more.

Exhaling softly, he nodded. "We should have asked if this was something you could do."

"It isn't. I mean, I don't know that it is." Sachi took a deep breath. "I should start at the beginning."

She rose and turned away, then faced the others once more. "I've always been able to slip through the Dream in the smallest of ways. I was accidentally stumbling into others' sleeping dreams—and nightmares—when I was still a child. As I grew older, I found I could do it purposefully. Enter their dreams ... or bring them into mine."

"It isn't the same thing, though," Elevia pointed out. "A dream is just a tiny, superficial sliver of the Dream . Like a—a shallow pool in a small corner of a vast hall."

"I know, and I always assumed my abilities were limited to just that. But something happened." Sachi met Ash's gaze. "Last night, right before you returned."

Were her full powers finally manifesting? Sachi still clung to the idea that she was mortal, even when the truth seemed so obvious to everyone around her. "What happened?"

"Ambrial was telling me about the final battle of the War," she whispered. "When you faced the Betrayer alone. I was listening, and I was thinking of you, wishing you were there ... and then I saw it. A vision of that last battle. I was watching it unfold before my eyes, like I was standing right there."

She held up a hand, cutting off Elevia before she could speak. "I thought the same thing, believe me. I've always had a very active imagination. But I could feel this—the burning winds, the shards of molten sand cutting my face." Sachi inhaled raggedly. "And then he spoke to me. The Betrayer. He looked me dead in the eye and he spoke to me ."

The edge of the table cracked, cutting a jagged line through the mountains on the western border. Ash stared blankly down at his own hands, unable to comprehend the meaning of his fingers digging splinters into the wood. Unable to handle the irony of this pristine, delicate copy of their world shattering beneath his hands.

The world would not survive another confrontation between him and the Betrayer. And Ash was terrified that was exactly what was coming.

"Do you know if it was true?" Elevia asked, softly this time. "Was it him , Sachi?"

"There are no likenesses of the Betrayer to be found in Dragon's Keep," Sachi answered, her voice equally soft. "So you'll have to tell me."

She produced a paper from a hidden pocket, carefully smoothed the creases, and laid it on Elevia's war table.

The Betrayer's mocking visage stared up at Ash, rendered in Sachi's delicate, impeccable hand.

Ash forced his hands open and used over three thousand years' worth of hard-won self-control to keep his voice even. "I've never heard of this. Of reliving the past in the Dream."

"The Everlasting Dream touches all places," Dianthe said, watching him from across the table with wary eyes. She of all people knew how close the world had come to shattering last time. She'd been the one helping him hold it together. "Perhaps it touches all times, too. Haven't we all met seers who can glimpse what is to come?"

"Glimpses," Ulric countered. "Mere wisps of the Dream."

"Well," Aleksi breathed. "I hope you'll pardon me for saying so, love, but it's about bloody time."

"Aleksi," Elevia admonished.

"I am simply saying, we don't bat an eye when Zanya physically whisks one of us across the country in the span of a heartbeat. But now we're going to quibble over the lines between the present and the past?" He held up both hands and shook his head. "Count me out of that, I just want to hear more."

Sachi smiled at him. "There is no more. The shock of it pulled me out of the vision. But ... it made me think. Perhaps we've been going about this search for the Phoenix the wrong way."

"We did try searching the Dream in the beginning," Dianthe pointed out.

"Ash tried," Aleksi corrected. "Which is not the same thing at all. No offense, darling."

None taken, because it truly wasn't the same. The Everlasting Dream might whisper to Ash, but it did so through the world itself. He'd always felt strongest with the earth beneath his bare feet and the wind in his hair. The ephemeral nature of the Dream slipped too easily through his fingers.

Like Sachi almost had.

He lifted a hand to her cheek and indulged himself by smoothing his thumb over her jaw and focusing on the subtle glow of her, on the radiant diamond rainbow that lived inside her.

Magic in its purest form. Because whether she believed it or not, he did. Just as Zanya contained within her the power of the Endless Void, Sachi was the Everlasting Dream manifested in human flesh. They would be fools not to take advantage of her power. And yet ...

"I worry," he said softly. "Promise me you'll take care."

"I promise, Ash. For you, anything."

On Sachi's other side, Zanya's jaw tightened. But she avoided Ash's gaze, staring stubbornly down at the map.

"Right, then." Elevia picked up a piece of her shattered map and eyed it balefully. "We all have our orders, so let's be about them. Stay ready."