Apollo had found his scent inside the stone hall, buried among the soldiers.
Alena’s pulse quickened. She relayed the count in a low whisper. “Most of the guards must be down in the quarry. With the wolves, we outnumber the ones left.”
Phoebe tilted her head, her silver eye flashing. “Maybe. But they have weapons.”
“Not for long.” Alena pointed to the tent beside the gate, moonlight catching on the glint of metal within. “That’s the armoury. If I set it on fire and post wolves at the flames, the soldiers will be unarmed and too afraid to get close.”
Phoebe’s eyebrows rose, a smirk tugging at her lips. “The Rebel Queen’s daughter, indeed. And the distraction?”
Alena gestured to the stables tucked behind the stone hall. “The horses. Wolves only need to snap at a few heels to spook them. If we can get the gate open, the stampede will handle the rest. The soldiers won’t notice us. They’ll be too busy chasing horses.”
Phoebe’s mouth curved into a feral grin. “It’ll be chaos.” She slipped her arm through the leather straps of her shield, testing the weight. “Good plan. I’ll handle the gate and towers. You light the fire.”
Alena hesitated. “Are you sure? That’s a dozen men.”
The Amazon shot her a dry look. “Are you underestimating me?”
Trust Phoebe to turn concern into a challenge. “No, but I’ll spare a couple of wolves to go with you.”
She drew her cloak tighter as the wind clawed at her skin. Woodsmoke lingered on the air. “I’ll call the wolves, torch the armoury, then go for Kaixo.”
“Use this.” Phoebe pulled a strip of oil-soaked cloth from her pouch and handed it over. “Fight to kill. And don’t take unnecessary risks.”
The Amazon gave her a pointed look, and Alena’s hand tightened around the cloth. Herunnecessary riskshad saved lives before.
“How long can you hold the wolves?” Phoebe asked.
“I don’t know.” This would be the truest measure of her power yet. “If the magic frays, I’ll release them before they turn on us.”
Phoebe nodded. “I’ll get that gate open. Once the horses bolt, we won’t have much time. The noise will draw attention.”
Alena scanned the camp again, thoughts racing. “With so few guards, the slaves will riot. We’ll head back for Leywani and San in the chaos.”
Phoebe stilled, her mouth tightening. “Listen, Alena?—”
“No.” The word rang like steel. “I know what you’re going to say, but we’re not leaving them. Kaixo needs his mother. And if that wretched healer still refuses to help…” Her voice dropped, dangerous. “I’ll drag him back myself. Or take his Gift.”
The thought tempted her. If she had a healing Gift, no one she loved would suffer again.
Phoebe shook her head. “Don’t risk it. Depending on the deity, you could waste all your magic breaking their pact. They won’t all be as forthcoming as the Huntress. Rasennan gods will resist you.”
Alena huffed a breath, grounding herself in the sting of cold. “Fine. Then let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
Phoebe raised an eyebrow at her tone, then unsheathed her sword with a soft metallic hiss.
Apollo emerged from the darkness and joined Alena’s side, his presence steadying her.
She closed her eyes, reaching outwards. At her summons, the wolves answered—shapes slinking through the night, slipping past the stakewall like water through a sieve.
On her command, they split: two to the watchtower, two to the quarry entrance, half a dozen to circling the armoury. The rest she sent for the stables, a swarm of shadows converging on prey.
When Alena opened her eyes, Phoebe was gone.
Typical. The Amazon never waited for permission.
Alena slipped from hiding, keeping low. The camp was still, silence pressing hard against her ears. No guards in sight.
Alena darted towards the armoury tent, her boots muffled against the packed earth. She crouched, pressing the oil-soaked cloth against the corner of the goat-skin wall.
