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Adry trotted inside after him, ducking under the large beam that formed the lintel. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, she took in the cramped space and breathed in the scent of musty earth. The bunker was nothing but a dirt interior with glowing troll lights embedded in the wall.

Not a lot of privacy. But it wasn’t like any of them would be changing anything but their socks and boots or washing anything but their faces and hands for the next week. It wouldn’t matter that the eight of them would be packed together in this space.

Nor would this bunker be their home for the full week. If everything went well, they’d push the army far enough forward that they’d need new bunkers every couple of days, if not every day.

Dacha set his bag beside the wall, his nose wrinkled in his disgust at the accommodations. But the expression smoothed after a moment.

Adry dropped her bag next to his, as did Uncle Iyrinder, followed by the others. After a quick consultation, Uncle Iyrinder and two of the others formed up around Dacha and Adry while the other three stayed to guard their bunker and set up their gear.

As they stepped outside once more, the lieutenant saluted Dacha again before spinning to lead them through the maze of trenches once more. After several minutes, they entered a trench with more trolls, elves, dwarves, and humans moving back and forth, impeding their progress.

Eventually, they arrived at another opening in the wall of the trench, guarded by two trolls so imposing that Adry could only assume this part of the trench had been dug extra deep to accommodate their height.

The lieutenant led the way inside, where numerous troll lights brightened the space to the point that the map spread on the table was readable. Several dwarves, trolls, elves, and humans crowded around the table, bent over that map and deep in discussion.

Coming to attention, the lieutenant announced, “General Laesornysh and Lt. Laesornysh as requested, General Ardon.”

One of the female troll warriors glanced up, her brown eyes bright, her white hair threaded with various bits of leather, bone, and a single diamond ring in the fashion of the trolls. Well, the bone and leather were. The ring was a nod to human culture since Aunt Vriska didn’t want to wear a ring on her finger where it could get in the way when she was fighting.

“Linsh.” Aunt Vriska turned to the others at the table. “Everyone, please step outside for a moment.”

The others, most of them wearing the emblems of generals, filed past Dacha and Adry. They’d likely get introduced to everyone later—after all, they’d probably be working closely together for the next week—but not just yet.

As soon as the last person exited, Aunt Vriska’s stern expression broke into a grin, and she rounded the table. “Farrendel! Good to have you on the front lines. This war can really get going now.”

She slapped Dacha’s back hard enough that he staggered a step forward. But Dacha smiled and gave her a perfunctory fist tap to the shoulder in return. Then he reached into a pocket and withdrew a white envelope. “I have a letter from Julien.”

In a blink, Aunt Vriska’s whole expression and posture softened, from the smile on her face to the set of her shoulders. While it had only been a little over a week since she and Uncle Julien had been parted, Aunt Vriska must already miss him. She took the envelope and held it a moment before she tucked it into a pocket. “Linsh.”

Dacha gave her a tiny nod, as if he fully understood the quiet note to her voice.

Her shoulders straightening and her smile returning, Aunt Vriska turned to Adry and wrapped her in a hug. “And it is good to see you, Adry.”

“You too, Aunt Vriska.” Adry squeaked the words out past her aunt’s squeezing hug. She made an attempt at a hug in return before Aunt Vriska released her. “How are Rokyd, Lucien, and Sathrah?”

Those were Uncle Julien’s and Aunt Vriska’s kids, and some of Adry’s favorite cousins. Considering they were among the few cousins who weren’t royalty of some kind, they were actually normal and not aggravating, like her cousin Rhohen.

“Doing well. Rokyd is in command of his own ship, and Lucien is now on one of those newfangled submarines.” Aunt Vriska beamed, as if she couldn’t be more proud of her boys, despite the danger. “Sathrah is second-in-command of an airship. Last I heard, they were running dark on a mission for the Intelligence Office.”

The Intelligence Office was headed by Adry’s Uncle Edmund. Who knew what kind of trouble Sathrah and her airship would get in following Uncle Edmund’s orders.

“It is good they are thriving in their duty stations.” Dacha gave a nod before he stepped closer to the table. “And our duty?”

“Rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, we are planning another hard push forward.” Aunt Vriska returned to the table and gestured to the various pins, which appeared to mark the locations of military units. “You and Adry will be here. There are dwarves interspersed throughout the line. You should be able to use their shields to spread your magic down the line as we press forward.”

Adry’s stomach flopped as she studied the map as well. She’d wanted this, and yet it was intimidating, seeing the way the burden of the invasion would rest on her and Dacha’s shoulders.

Dacha nodded, his gaze flicking over the map. “Our objective?”

“This Mongavarian hamlet here.” Aunt Vriska tapped the spot on the map. “But if things are going well, I estimate we can safely press on to this point beyond it before we must halt to solidify our lines.”

Dacha gave that sharp nod again.

Adry, too, managed a nod, though her fingers had gone strangely cold, her breath catching in her chest.

Tomorrow, she’d go to war.

Chapter