“Talwyn!” her brother called out, two fingers pointing at his eyes and then off in the distance. “To the hills!”

The Zealot priests and priestesses were moving into place.

“Get Grandfather!” she ordered her brother. She speared another Zealot and moved to get her father and uncles prepared. But in the fields behind her there was a flash and then the sound of racing horses and armed men.

“Izzy!” Talwyn roared. “Behind us!”

Her cousin climbed onto the back of the nearest dragon and stood on her shoulders.

“I see Riders!” she yelled back to Talwyn, which was strange, because the Daughters of the Steppes had said they would allow Northlanders through their territory but they wouldn’t take part in this battle. “And gold armor!”

“On Riders?”

“No! Two separate armies and . . .”

“And what? What do you see?”

“Brannie! It’s Brannie!”

Izzy jumped off one dragon’s shoulders and onto the back of Éibhear, who quickly took to the air.

* * *

Brannie led the charge on horseback, motioning with her hammer to where the Riders should attack and where the Empress’s army should mount a defense.

Once her commands were given, she charged forward toward the main battle near Salebiri’s castle. But something caused her war horse to flip, head over tail, crashing hard into the ground.

Brannie rolled free and back onto her feet before the horse could crush her. She ran, ducking under a swinging sword and flipping over a jabbing spear.

Zealots ran toward her and she changed her hammer to a halberd. She’d only impaled one of the Zealots on the end when Éibhear slammed down onto the rest.

“Izzy!”

“Bran!”

Izzy jumped off Éibhear’s giant shoulders, but he caught her with his tail and safely lowered her to the ground.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he grumbled but Izzy ignored him, throwing herself at Brannie.

“I thought you were dead!” Izzy yelled into Brannie’s neck as the pair hugged.

“Not yet,” Brannie said, holding her best friend tighter. “Definitely not yet.”

* * *

Aidan landed behind Brannie and Izzy, but before he could say anything, his best friend was squeezing the life from him.

“Can’t breathe.”

“Stop complaining.” Éibhear finally pushed him away. “We all thought you lot were dead until Ghleanna got here. But then we heard you were with Keita, so . . . you know . . . we thought you were still dead . . . eventually.”

“That’s lovely to hear.”

“You’ve been with Keita all this time?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m sorry, old friend.”

“Your sister’s mean,” Caswyn complained, stalking past Éibhear and Aidan with Uther behind him. “Really, really mean.”

* * *

Dagmar stood on the top step and stared into the courtyard. She closed her eyes; breathed in, breathed out, and fought a nearly overwhelming desire to panic about what she knew was happening hundreds of leagues away in the Outerplains.

“Mum?”

Forcing a smile, she glanced back at her son, but he wasn’t fooled.