“A lot has to happen before then,” she said sadly. “You have to defeat that creature. Can you do it? And don’t put on a show of confidence for me; I can sense your fear and doubt.”

“Of course I’m afraid,” I told her, annoyed to find her using her gift of empathy to discover how I was feeling. “But bravery is about overcoming fear. We are all afraid at times. What matters is rising above it.”

“But do you really think you can win? Some of those slain here are the champions of princes, warriors who’ve spent their lives training in combat. A few lessons from the witch are hardly going to help you defeat him. You’re a spook—your staff is your main weapon.”

“I defeated that beast in the tree,” I pointed out.

“That beast was young and still learning to be a mage—that’s what Grimalkin said, didn’t she? This opponent is different. He is an assassin, a trained killer, an expert with his chosen weapons. The haizda mage mostly relied on his magic, not his blades. The Starblade defended you against that, and you proved to be better in combat. But this is different. I don’t see how you can win this time.”

“You’d be surprised,” I replied. “I’ve been taught by Grimalkin before. Not only has she exceptional skill with weapons, she also has a gift for passing on those skills to others. She’s been analyzing the way the Shaiksa fights and finding weaknesses that I should be able to exploit.”

But my words sounded hollow, even to my own ears. Somehow Jenny’s doubts were more than canceling out Grimalkin’s confidence. I felt very uneasy.

“Even if you somehow manage to win,” Jenny went on, “we’ll have to head north with this ragtag army, deep into a territory controlled by thousands upon thousands of the beasts. I find it hard to believe that we’ll survive. It seems to be getting colder by the day; even if we do somehow escape being massacred, winter will have set in, and we’ll be forced to spend long dark months in this inhospitable northern land.”

“My, aren’t you the eternal pessimist!” I tried to joke. “Trust me to take on a gloomy apprentice who spends most of her time anticipating the worst.”

“I’m sorry to sound so despondent, but I just want to go home.”

“So do I.” I patted her shoulder in reassurance. “Trust me, please—everything will turn out for the best. We need the information that Grimalkin hopes to gather; she seeks knowledge of the tactics of the Kobalos in battle, and of the dark magic they may use. Once she knows more about it, she may be able to create effective countermeasures. If she doesn’t succeed, the Kobalos will simply fight their way to the sea. That won’t stop them; they’ll sail across, and in a few years the County will be overrun and enslaved. We have to do this now.”

I was determined to go through with it, and I tried to think positively and achieve that “self-belief” that Grimalkin said was necessary . . . but as the days passed, I experienced something new: a type of fear I’d never felt before.