“I’m all right. I’m fine.” Rain caught Ellysetta’s hands in his. Though the sixth dragon had given him a good scorching, Steli had swooped in to snatch him from harm’s way. She’d jabbed the reptile in the eye with her tail spike in passing, and left his twitching body for Xisanna and Perahl to finish off. Thanks to a bell of intensive healing by Ellysetta, he was fit enough to fight and determined to return to battle. “I have to get back.”

With the help of Air masters and a few well-timed barrages of Fey bowcannon fire, the allies had kept the remaining dragons at bay. The demons were gone and the allied army was once more on the move, but as they drew closer to the walls of Orest, they would need him in the air, providing what defense he could.

Ellysetta closed her eyes. He felt her struggle against her shei’tanitsa need to keep him safe. He knew what it cost her to say, “I know, kem’san,” and let him go. She was strong. Much stronger than most truemated fellanas. Much stronger, and far more courageous, than she ever gave herself credit. It was much easier to fly into danger yourself than to watch the one you love do so.

“Rain. Ellysetta.” Bel rushed into the healing tent. “Come quick. You’ll both want to see this.”

Curious, they both followed him out of the tent, only to stop in surprise as Bel gestured to the south. There, just cresting the next line of hills to the south, a large army approached. Rain estimated at least thirty thousand troops, all with gleaming bows and quivers across their backs. Their armor shone with rich copper hues in the morning light, and a lustrous golden glow enveloped them, as if they carried sunlight in their skin.

That glow—and their distinctive cavalry, some winged and others graced with a single spiraling horn—identified the newcomers even before Rain discerned the distinctive leaf-shaped scales of their armor and the delicate, tapering points of their even-more-distinctive ears.

Despite Galad Hawksheart’s numerous refusals, the Elves had come at last to join the war.

“Welcome,” Rain said when the leaders of the Elvian army halted before him. “I am glad beyond words that Lord Hawksheart changed his mind after all.”

The Elvian commander, a tall, broad-shouldered Elf with waist-length hair the color of sunset and rich sapphire eyes regarded Rain with the disconcerting intensity of his kind. “We do not come at Lord Galad’s bidding,” he replied in a low, lyrical voice. “The Lord of Valorian commands the Elves of Deep Woods. We answer to the Lady.”

“You are from Silverwood,” Ellysetta said.

The commander’s bright gaze fixed instantly on her, and the power of his gaze made the breath leave her lungs. “And you are Ellysetta Erimea. I have heard tales of your brightness, but they do you no justice.” To her surprise, the Elf commander clasped a fist to his breastplate and dropped to one knee before her. “Blessings of the day upon you, Ellysetta Erimea. It is our honor to serve the Winter Star.” He bowed low, over his knee, murmuring something in Elvish that she did not understand, but the thousands of Elves behind him suddenly followed his lead, each dropping to a knee and bowing low before her.

“It is I who am honored, my lord commander.” The welcome of these Elves shocked her, and the near reverence with which they regarded her left her unsettled and embarrassed. “Please, rise, and be welcome.”

“I am called Tamsin Greywing, my lady,” the Elf said as he stood, “general of the armies of west Elvia.” He turned to the two elves beside him, one a broad-shouldered, chestnuthaired male with the unflinching yellow eyes of a wolf, the other a stunningly beautiful Elf maiden. “This is my second in command, Gavin Fenwolf, and this is—” He glanced back at Ellysetta and his voice trailed off.

“You may call me Commander Silverleaf,” the Elf maiden finished for him. Her voice was pure music, sweet as a song played by crystalline bells, but her face, with its piercing silver-grey eyes, possessed a composed, almost stern quality despite her great beauty. Masses of pale gold hair hung down her back in a multi-ply plait as thick as Ellysetta’s arm. “I lead the Aquiline riders.”

“We bring you greetings from our queen, Illona Bright-hand,” General Greywing continued. “The Elves of Silverwood extend our hand of friendship and offer you our strength in this battle against the enemies of Light.”

Across the river, on the shores of Eld, Vadim Maur noted the arrival of the Elvish army. His lips compressed in a hard line.

So, the Feraz hadn’t been keeping Hawksheart occupied after all. He would have a word or two for Fezai Madia the next time he saw the arrogant witch.

Turning to Vargus, he barked his next command. “Release the revenants.”

Sound rumbled across the scorched plains outside Lower Orest. The ground beneath the allies’ feet began to shake. Ellysetta looked down in surprise. “Is it an earthquake, ‘Jonn?”

The giant Earth master’s dark eyes glowed green as he sent his great magic plunging into the ground below. A moment later, he shook his head. “Nei, not the earth. Something inside it.”

“Something like what?” Rain asked Before Rijonn could answer, a cry sounded down the line.

“Look!”

Rain and Ellysetta turned. Something was pouring out of the ground near the south gate of Lower Orest. From a distance, it looked almost like a swarm of termites bubbling up from a disturbed nest. “What is that?” Ellysetta asked.

Beside her, the Elf commanders muttered something in their native tongue.