War was no longer theoretical. No longer something approaching in the distance.
It was here. Real. Inevitable.
And in twelve hours, we would march into the dark and discover whether we were enough.
CHAPTER 23
SERIS
The tent flap closed behind me with a finality that echoed louder than the assembled army outside.
The silence was suffocating. It amplified every racing thought and doubt I'd been keeping at bay through motion and distraction.
I crossed to the cot and sat, hands gripping my knees hard enough to whiten my knuckles.
I had only moved objects through the Veil. During my training with Lyralei, she instructed me to teleport training dummies through it. One or two at a time. Sometimes, the dummies came back missing a limb or two.
Five hundred was insanity.
My magic had killed trained mages when it erupted uncontrolled. Had erased void-touched wolves from existence. Had nearly unmade Daemon himself before he talked me back from the edge.
Now I was supposed to compress space around an entire battalion and relocate them to the capital gates without accidentally hurting an ally? Ludicrous.
"Breathe." I whispered the word to the empty tent as I forced air through lungs that wanted to lock tight.
The memory surfaced, unwanted. I stood outside that watchtower, power exploding outward in waves of annihilation. Daemon's voice cut through the chaos, grounding me before I erased everything.
What if that happened again? What if my control of the Veil spiraled and I didn't just fail the teleportation? What if I unmade five hundred people who trusted me?
My hands shook.
Outside, metal scraped against leather as someone adjusted armor. A low voice called out instructions as the organized preparation of soldiers continued despite my anxiety.
I closed my eyes and forced myself past the fear.
Mechanics. Lyralei's voice echoed through memory, patient and precise.
Space is negotiable.
Teleportation wasn't about moving bodies. It was about redefining the boundaries between two locations and compressing the distance until here and there occupied the same point simultaneously.
The number of people didn't matter. The focus was the parts of the Veil surrounding them.
The realization struck cold and clear.
If they stood close enough, tight enough, I wasn't moving five hundred individual targets. I was moving the space they occupied. One boundary. One compression. One shift.
The fear didn't vanish, but it transformed into something workable. Mathematical.
I could do this. I had to.
More sounds filtered through the canvas as boots struck stone. The rhythmicthunk-thunk-thunkof arrows being counted and packed. Someone laughed.
Daemon's voice rose above the others. "Defensive formation stays tight. Anyone who breaks the perimeter around Seris,you pull them back. She needs space to work, but she needs protection more."
"Understood, sir."
"Good. Malzaun?"
