“We will not march,” he said. “Not today.”
He lowered his weapon and nodded. “Bring me my son.”
“I know Stella and the others will do their best, just as Nova did with the fallen orcs here.”
“But,” the leader continued, lifting one finger, “we will watch. Closely. And if our lands worsen—”
“You won’t need to come for us,” Gideon said evenly. “We’ll already be there.”
The orc studied him, then huffed a short, grim laugh.
“Shadow-walker,” he said. “You speak like a man already at war.”
Gideon’s mouth curved, sharp and tired. “I am, but mostly with myself.”
The orc turned to me.
“And you, witch of Stonewick. If you lie—”
“I won’t,” I said simply.
He nodded once and stepped back, signaling his people to do the same.
“This isn’t over,” I whispered.
“No,” Gideon agreed, eyes already scanning the shadows beyond.
“It’s just finally facing the right direction.”
Lady Limora stepped toward us.
“What has happened here,” she said calmly, “will be remembered. That cuts both ways.”
The orc snorted softly. “Vampires speak of memory as if it belongs to them.”
“Only because we’ve learned what forgetting costs,” she replied.
That earned a few surprised looks.
The Hollows, for their part, seemed… watchful. The ice walls didn’t retreat, but they no longer pressed inward. The hum beneath our feet settled into something like a heartbeat—slow, deliberate, waiting.
“This ground will remember too,” Nova said quietly, rising to her feet. “How you respond now matters as much as what happened before.”
The older orc turned to face his people, speaking in low tones I couldn’t fully follow. The words weren’t angry, but they weren’t gentle either. They sounded practical. When he turned back, his expression had hardened into something weary rather than furious.
“You will not advance,” he told us. “And neither will we. Not today.”
Relief fluttered through me, cautious and fragile.
“But,” he continued, fixing me with a steady gaze, “you will explain why the land itself reacts to you. And why her reach follows your footsteps.”
I nodded. “I’m her granddaughter.”
Gideon cleared his throat then, drawing several sharp looks.
The orcs gasped.
“You’re not wrong to be wary,” he said. “If the Priestess can’t control her,”—his eyes flicked to me, briefly—“she’ll try to isolate her, just like she did to you.”
