Seeing that the odds had shuffled in their favor, Hara Duja opened her arms to the rest of the Kulaw faction. She raised her chin and spoke with renewed confidence. “Come. You need not fear my wrath if you step forward. I promise to grant each one of you clemency if you stand down. Now.”

Then a moment of uneasy hesitation. A fleeting stillness swept over the Black Salt Cliffs. When no one else crossed over to the queen’s side, Imeria threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, I’ve had my fill of Gatdula clemency.” She turned to her remaining warriors and roared, “Guards! Attack the queen.”

Laya scarcely had time to register Imeria’s abrupt order. But the Kulaw forces didn’t hesitate. In a menacing swell, they advanced. Their stampeding footsteps thundered across the cliffs. They swarmed Hara Duja, the steel of their weapons burnished with the pink-and-orange cast of twilight.

“Hurry,” Ojas yelled from the queen’s side. The terse quiet of the cliffs broke as his men surged forward to engage them.

Laya steeled her shoulders and ran after them.

She had never known battle before. The war songs and sweeping epics could not have prepared her for the chaos of clashing metal, the sickening squelch as blades penetrated flesh. No training could have steeled her soul to withstand the shrieks of men struck down in a flash of silver. Bodies darted past her, bolts of green and scarlet and flailing limbs. The sea wind stung the corners of her eyes. Her nostrils filled with the smell of rust as blood soaked the grass atop the cliffs.

In the tumult, she struggled to orient herself. She skirted past slashing swords and walls of breastplates until she arrived at the center of the fray, where the fighting was fiercest. A flash of gold drew Laya’s focus to the front line.

Imeria Kulaw stood shielded by a ring of Kulaw warriors, their swords raised as they deflected the Gatdula offense. Their assailants came at Imeria from all sides, and they did not relent. As the Kulaw warriors closed in to protect Imeria, Laya glimpsed the older woman’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Both her hands were directed at the lines of Gatdula guards advancing toward them. With a pang, Laya realized what she was doing. Instinctively, she raised her palm. The threads of power braided themselves through her fingertips. If she calculated the angle just right, she could send a blast straight down the front line without taking down too many of her mother’s men.

The second before Laya launched her attack, Imeria swore at the top of her lungs. For once, she sounded panicked. “It’s not enough. I cannot get a hold of them,” she barked to the group of warriors shielding her. “I need more cover. Get me to the rear.”