Ren flinched and rubbed his forehead, his siblings smirking behind him.

“That’s what I thought,” the Empress replied flatly, dropping Keita’s hair and walking around her. “Now, Branwen . . . you were saying?”

Again, the pressure from Aidan’s hand at her back.

“Uh . . . Your Majesty, I speak for the entire Cadwaladr Clan when I ask that you allow your troops to fight by our side against the Zealots and that you personally assist my queen in whatever magickal endeavors she may be undertaking.”

The Empress framed her hands around Brannie’s face and Brannie was proud—because she didn’t flinch. “For what you’ve done for my precious son, I will do this”—she looked at Keita, although her hands were still around Brannie’s face—“for you, Branwen the Awful.”

“All of you are so ungrateful,” Keita accused, heading back to the palace.

“I wouldn’t go far, Keita,” the Empress warned.

“And why is that?”

“Because something is happening.” The Empress removed her hands from Brannie’s face, closed her eyes, and took in a breath. “I hear your mother on the wind. She calls to me.”

Keita walked back toward them. “My mother wouldn’t do that unless . . .”

“Unless the final battle has begun,” Branwen finished for her.

“Lord General!” the Empress called out.

An Eastland dragon came to the Empress, dropping down on one knee, head bowed. “Prepare my army. I’ll be sending us all to the Southlands. I’ll be opening a doorway within a quarter hour. Will you be ready?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” The Empress looked over at the Eastland Riders. “And you, Batu the Iron Hearted? Will you fight with us?”

“We will, decadent royal. We’ll do it for Branwen the Awful.”

“Our friendship is so over,” Keita growled at the Rider.

Batu grinned. That was probably exactly what he’d wanted to hear.

And Branwen was just glad to know that she wouldn’t have to travel by sea again.

“You will need us, decadent She-dragon.” Batu glanced around at the remains of Lord Xing’s army. “But what of your brother’s men and dragons?”

“Well, I’m not wasting my magickal skills to bring riffraff with us.” She gave a wave of her hand before walking off; tossing over her shoulder, “So kill them all.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Talwyn blocked the blade with her shield and speared the wielder through his chest.

She’d lost her sword hours ago and since had been using weapons she’d picked up off the dead.

The grasslands were no longer green but red from the blood spilled. But still, the Zealots kept coming. They wouldn’t let their enemies move closer to Salebiri’s castle. Even if it meant sacrificing themselves.

But a challenge had been sent. Written on the flesh of a Zealot that they’d catapulted through the damaged main hall roof and now, they waited for the answer.