Eva snapped out several swear words as she drew her sword. “This smells like a setup, but it doesn’t sound like we have any choice and the fire can’t last forever. We make for the passageway, and we keep Pia surrounded. Johnny, take point, and James and Andrea, take either side. Miguel and I will bring up the rear.”

Pia took Linwe by the arm. The Elf looked at her blankly. She had gone into shock. Pia told her firmly, “You’re coming with us.”

“I should do something to help,” Linwe said.

“Right now, staying alive is what helps,” Pia told her.

“Enough,” Eva snapped. “Move, everybody. And don’t engage with anyone if you don’t have to.”

The smell of smoke grew more intense as soon as Johnny opened the door. They slipped out of the apartment and worked their way through the building. Pia kept her grip on Linwe’s arm, carrying her crossbow one handed.

Elves ran down the halls, shouting to each other. James pressed against Pia’s shoulder, forcing her and Linwe against the wall, but nobody paid any attention to their group. They worked their way down a flight of stairs and the sound of fighting grew louder. When they pushed outside, it was like stepping into a scene from hell.

Towering golden red flames crackled and roared in the Wood, throwing great swirling spires of glowing sparks into the sky, and acrid smoke blanketed the scene in swathes of hazy white that blurred details and gave the scene a nightmarish quality. Heat throbbed against Pia’s skin. The fire would reach the building soon.

She could see a patch of the river, which looked blacker than ever, its surface covered with dancing red light. The heads of a couple of swimmers speared the surface until crossbow bolts took them. More Elves ran past them, and clusters of people dotted the clearing, fighting savagely.

Just as Linwe and Johnny said, they were fighting each other. Pia couldn’t make sense of it, and she saw the same incomprehension on the faces of the others.

With a sharp gesture, Johnny led them to the path that would take them to the crossover passageway. Pia’s grip on Linwe’s arm slipped away as they jogged, but she saw that the Elf had come out of her shock somewhat and stayed with the group.

The path twisted and suddenly they came upon a large group of Elves engaged in an intense battle. A clash of Power swirled dizzyingly in her mind like fierce lights and glistening black. Pia glimpsed Calondir in the thickest part of the fight, wielding a bright silver sword, his expression stern and deadly. Blood streamed down one side of his face.

Johnny spun and pushed at her. “Turn around,” he said. “Go!”

“There’s nowhere else to go,” Pia told him, even as Eva and Miguel pressed up behind her, urging her forward.

The fire advanced behind them all, driving them to the clearing. The forest on either side of the path was dense with shadow and hellish light, and for a moment the group was all in a tangle. Somebody struck her ribs with an elbow, knocking her crossbow out of her hand. She had no idea where Linwe had gone.

Because Johnny was facing her, Pia saw the battle spill toward them before he could. She called out a sharp warning, and Johnny pivoted, and then he engaged in a sudden sharp flurry of movement. James lunged forward too, and the world turned into a grunting, churning mess of a melee that she couldn’t track . . . goddammit, she was no good at any of this war shit. . . .

Eva grabbed her from behind and bodily yanked her back from the fighting. Beside them, Miguel flung out a hand, fingers splayed, and he said, “Lux.”

Power flew out with the word, and the area filled with brilliant light. For a few moments everything was clearly illuminated. They were much closer to the passageway than Pia had thought. Not only did she see Calondir, but she saw Ferion too. And Beluviel stood in the group that faced them, her eyes great hollows of darkness in her perfect face, her hair bound back and a sword in one hand.

Wait. Was Beluviel fighting with Calondir and Ferion, or against them?

With the flare of light, the battle paused. It resumed with redoubled fury, and chaos spun around them like a hurricane.

Johnny said, “Shit.”

Through some trick of timing Pia heard him distinctly over the sounds of battle, even though he didn’t shout or even speak loudly. He went to his knees, and James roared and fought even harder, and Andrea and Miguel lunged forward too.

Eva shoved Pia roughly behind her and said, “Stay back, goddammit.”

Pia stared at the other woman incredulously; like she was so crazy that she would leap into that battle. Then the captain did just that as she leaped forward, and the Wyr clicked into a seamless fighting unit. They were a hell of a sight to see, she supposed, as they formed a protective barrier around her and Johnny, but she didn’t bother to pause and admire their prowess. Instead she fell on her knees beside Johnny who had sagged forward.

“Hey,” she said stupidly to him.

His head turned slightly toward her. She blocked out all the chaos and noise and put an arm around him, and he fell against her. Trusting the others to do their job, she eased Johnny to the ground, and in the fading light of the spell Miguel cast, she saw the profuse cascade of blood down his front. Oh shit.

She tore his clothing open, and it was bad, very bad. As a Wyr, Johnny had a strong aptitude for self-healing, but this, oh shit, he wasn’t going to get over this.

And there wasn’t time for any f**king thing, let alone time to stew over a decision when she couldn’t think straight anyway, not with that horrible, unending scream in her head, so she took her knife, slit her palm and let a trickle of her blood flow over poor Johnny’s torn-up chest. Power flowed out along with her blood, but probably no one would notice because the entire world had gone insane, and everybody else was busy making too much noise to pay any attention to anything she did anyway.

Right?

Eva knelt on the other side of Johnny and grabbed her wrist. What the f**k are you doing? she hissed in Pia’s head.

Pia yanked her wrist out of the other woman’s grasp. I will HURT YOU SO BAD before I kill you if you say anything about this.

Eva didn’t bother to answer, but instead tore off some of Johnny’s shirt to put pressure on wounds that Pia knew were already closing under all that blood. I have healing potions in my pack. Dig in the left pocket—

Johnny coughed, sat up and said, “Oh man, that sucked.”

Eva’s eyes rounded. She yanked Johnny’s shirt open wider and ran a hand down his lean torso, searching for a wound that was no longer there. “Princess, you got some kind of bitch-goddess mojo I ain’t never seen before.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Pia said desperately to Johnny. “Quit whining and get up.” She stuck a finger under Eva’s nose. “And you shut the f**k up.”

The rest of the world snapped back into focus. She jumped up and Eva helped Johnny to his feet just as the last of Miguel’s spell faded, leaving the clearing washed in a hot hellish red again.

At the same time the screaming in her head reached a crescendo. For a moment it was so loud she couldn’t see straight. Then with a snap it broke off into silence.

What did that mean? Had the spirit of the Wood died?

Something had happened when she wasn’t looking. The chaotic Power had vanished, and the fighting had come to an end, although all of the psychos stood braced and ready. Suddenly Elves surrounded them.

“Lady,” Ferion said as he shouldered between two Elves and came to an abrupt halt in front of the business end of James and Miguel’s swords. Ferion wore leggings and a loose tunic, and he was blood streaked too. “You need to join us.”

Pia coughed, looking beyond Ferion for Beluviel, but she was no longer in sight. Pia could still see Calondir. He stood partially turned away as he shouted and gestured to someone. Her voice hoarse from smoke inhalation, she said, “This is where you tell me what the f**k, and you do it quickly, Ferion.”

“There’s too much to explain quickly,” he said. Linwe slammed into Ferion’s side, and he put an arm around her, hugging the young Elf tight against his side. “One of the Numenlaurians used a very old Power against us. Telling the rest of the story would take time we do not have.”

Calondir approached, and the Elves that surrounded them backed away. The High Lord glanced over the other Wyr to Pia and gave her a curt nod. “The fire’s very close,” Calondir said. “We’re going to have to cross over, and if they’re waiting on the other side, we’ll have to try to fight our way through.”

Fight their way through what? Or whom?

“Where’s Beluviel?” Pia asked.

“She has been taken, along with many others,” Calondir said. “They’ve already crossed over.”

“Taken how?” Eva demanded sharply.

The High Lord did not appear to take offense at her tone. Calondir said, “Many of us were taken over while sleeping, and they rose to attack the rest of us.” His gaze moved over them. “I see all of your party is intact.”

Then the entire conversation became blah blah blah as the only thing that mattered in the world happened.

Dragos growled in her head, Pia.

Wild joy transformed her, blazing brighter than the fire.

It’s not my fault, she groaned. Oh my God, I missed you.

I’m coming in fast, he said. Where are you?

We’re with Calondir in a clearing by the Elves’ crossover passageway. He said that Beluviel and others have been taken over. I think he means they’ve been controlled, because the Elves have been fighting each other. We—we’re going to have to cross over, Dragos. The Wood is on fire all around us, and it’s getting close.

No! Do not cross, he said sharply. Not unless you have no other choice. Please, Pia. Wait for just a little while longer and trust me.

Please. There it was, and not when he was cajoling, and not when it was comfortable. Her hair was practically on fire, and she was surrounded by Elves. She was even with Calondir, whom she was pretty sure occupied the bull’s-eye in the dartboard of hated people in Dragos’s head, and yet Dragos still said please. It was better than any apology he could have crafted.

She told him, I’ll wait.

Then she said aloud, “We’re not crossing over.”

Everyone turned to look at her as if she was crazy. Yeah, she got that a lot. Pretty much ever since she had mated with Dragos, in fact. She focused on Calondir and said, “You said ‘they’ may be waiting on the other side of the passageway, and Ferion mentioned one of the Numenlaurians. Is he by any chance a male with green eyes?”

“Yes,” Calondir said, his expression bitter. “If he is not waiting for us on the other side, then some of his people will be. The fire is driving us like cattle toward them.”

“Dragos is coming,” she told the High Lord. “He said to wait and not cross over, not unless we absolutely had to.” Well, he hadn’t actually included Calondir in any of that, but she had to think on her feet here with some pretty tight time restrictions, so she figured she was entitled to some broad interpretation.

The High Lord stiffened. “The risks you and your mate decide to take have nothing to do with me or my people.”

She strangled the sudden urge to slap him. She said, “Calondir, I know you hate Dragos, and to be perfectly frank, he hates you too.” Heh, this next bit was actually kind of funny, although she was glad Dragos wasn’t around to hear her say it. “But he allowed me to travel down to talk with you and to try to make peace with your demesne. In the meantime you say someone is on the other side of that passageway, waiting to cut you down as you try to cross. I wouldn’t like those choices if I was in your shoes, but I really think you ought to wait. Dragos is not going to let me get hurt.”

Calondir studied her, his face cold. Then he looked around at the waiting Wyr, and at his own people, many of whom were wounded. As Pia looked around too, she realized that most of them weren’t dressed for fighting. They wore a hodgepodge of casual clothes, and some of them appeared to be in pajamas. They were in no shape to face another battle.

“Who has water?” the High Lord asked. Several people raised a hand, although none of them were the psychos, even though Pia knew fully well that they each had a canteen in their packs. “Tear strips of cloth and wet them. Be prepared to tie them over your nose and mouth, and move over to the passageway. We’ll wait.” His gaze came back to Pia. “For as long as we can.”

Fair enough. She nodded to him.

Eva said to the other Wyr, “It’s good advice. Do as he says.” They each tore strips of cloth and wet them. Getting toasty, princess. Hope the Old Man gets here quick.

He said he’s coming in fast. Pia gave into temptation and used her wet strip to mop her hot forehead and cheeks.

Eva scanned the nearby blazing tree line. It won’t do any harm to hang with the High Lord by the passageway, just in case.

Whatever, Pia said irritably. The cloth came away streaked black with soot. She grimaced, hoping she wouldn’t have to tie it over her face. He’ll be here.

Eva gestured to the others, and they moved over to where the Elves stood in a tense huddle around Calondir. Eva told Pia, You and me, when we get out of this mess we talking about what happened with Johnny.

Pia said, You go on telling yourself whatever story you want to hear.

The flames were clearly visible between the trees, and smoke covered the sky. It was growing harder to take a real breath, and several people had covered their noses and mouths already. Pia looked from the small group of pale, silent Elves down to the number of bodies littering the clearing. Those bodies were the Elves’ friends, families and lovers. Her heart went out to the survivors.