“The moment we leave this soil, we change the course of history. We will grasp the stars’ attention!” I shouted. “We’ll make them listen. Make their wills bend to ours!”
“Down with the king!” Qildor shouted, and a ripple of agreement rang out.
“And we’ll bring Prince Vale and Thantrel home!” added Filip, sitting astride a gryphon not far away. “They’ve believed in many of you. Fought for your families. Forget not that we fight for a better kingdom, but also for those who have fallen into hardships. Fallen into enemy hands!”
“For Prince Vale!” a weathered Balik soldier agreed. “The fair and just Warrior Bear!”
“For Thantrel Riis.” A faerie soldier clad in the black and red of House Riis raised a fist. “Never has a kinder—if a bit rascally—male lived.”
More agreement.Manygrins from those wearing House Riis colors.
“To making the stars listen!” Palms up, I lifted my hands in the air.
The army joined, flying up to our level, preparing to attack. Behind the crowd, Rynni transformed into a dragon. She wasn’t a trained soldier, but she’d helped carry many through the journey here. Now, she’d follow, attack when possible, and when necessary, use her single blow of fire to devastating effect.
“For Winter’s Realm!” Thyra called, and Lasvin shot to the sky.
I ascended with her and the moment we burst from the cover of the trees, my attention locked on the ships. Fifty huge vessels hiding behind a handful of islands, waiting for King Magnus to appear. Waiting to annihilate the Virtoris fleet from both the west and east. We soared to meet them, far faster in the air than on land. The distance halved in minutes.
“Incoming!” I screamed when the first blast of fire came rushing our way.
The army forked, seconds before the long stream of fire flew so close that I felt the sizzle of the flame as we adjusted course.
“Are we sure they weren’t anticipating us?” Freyia yelled. As ever, the Valkyrja flew closest to my twin and me, our protectors. Our most trusted.
“Can’t see how!” Thyra shouted back.
I couldn’t either. We knew from how information had made its way north that King Magnus had eyes on us in Myrr. It was plausible that messages had winged their way to the loyalists, telling them that we had forces on the move. That we did not seem to be marching but trying another tactic. After all, it was difficult to contain all the ravens going out of homes and aviaries. So difficult that no one in Myrr had bothered to try.
But the general population of Myrr hadn’t known where we’d been heading. They had only seen a line of soldiers coming out of a brothel, but each male and female in arms had been told to stay quiet about our destination.
Had someone told? Or was this spray of fire magic simply the Nava being prepared for an attack on any and all fronts?
Really, it did not matter. All that mattered was that we closed the gap. That we avoided the many streams of fire coming at us and seized those ships.
“Fly like the wind, Arava.” I leaned over her midnight mane.
Her wings beat the air as if the wind had insulted her, and we picked up speed. My mare wove through the assaults, and I felt the glint of delight inside her at showing what she could do. How well she flew. Her power and might on display for all to witness.
We neared the ships, and I scanned below, searching for the lead vessel. It was easy enough to spot, as the largest ship with Aaberg blue sails and the house banner flew from atop the crow’s nest, whipping in the wind.
“That one. Drop down a bit. I’ll jump, and then you stay safe.” I pointed, and Arava descended. She came in hot, and most of the sailors scattered, but a few remained. Those who must have thought they had magic strong enough to take on a pegasus.
Each one of them was mistaken.
Like dragons and ice giants and other wild creatures born of magic, a pegasi’s hide was protective in more ways than one. Only the most powerful could penetrate my mare’s skin.
The two attacks that landed bounced off Arava, and I retaliated in kind to those who tried to harm her, blasting them with icicles. By the time the sailors realized what was happening—that they stood no chance against us—it was too late.
I leapt from Arava’s back, pulled Sassa’s Blade from the scabbard, and fell upon my enemies with a frigid wind. They screamed and scattered as the gusts burned their skin, but not before I cut one down, my sword’s sharp edge biting into his leg. A female whirled back, a metal throwing snowflake in her hand, but with a flick of my wrist she was frozen in place.
“I’m Isolde Falk,” I declared, “and I claim this ship.”
“To the afterworld with you, monster!” someone shouted back, and an arrow whizzed by.
Winged archers balanced on the horizontal poles above and two others in the crow’s nest. Their distance would have kept them safe from me, but others in my army had spotted them too. My forces fell upon the archers and a few fae who had leapt into the air to fight, cutting them down, disarming them.
Bodies dropped to the deck with hard thuds, spattering the dark wood with blood. The smell of metal mixed with salt.
