“I’m all right,” she insisted.

Var walked up to her and took her hand. “Maybe I should have gone. I’m sure I could have helped.”

“If they don’t succeed, I’ll need you here. We’ll need to get the children out before the Zealots come.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“What is?”

“I was hoping more for a Northland way of handling things.”

Dagmar, who no longer thought about panic, had to fight hard not to laugh. “Unnvar—”

“We’d kill the children. The servants. Ourselves. The dogs. The horses. The squirrels in the trees.”

“Var, stop it,” Dagmar ordered around her chuckles.

“I was actually looking forward to cutting Arlais’s throat myself since we both know she’d put up a fight.”

Laughing out loud despite herself, Dagmar leaned against her son, but she immediately stopped when Arlais suddenly ran out the castle doors.

She opened her mouth to announce something, but her eyes abruptly narrowed and she glared at her mother and brother.

“You two are talking about me,” she accused.

“Is there a reason you’re out here?” Dagmar asked.

She pointed to the middle of the courtyard and a mystical doorway suddenly opened. A moment later Keita and Ren of the Chosen tumbled out. A living, breathing Ren of the Chosen.

Arlais squealed and ran to her favorite aunt while Var leaned in to her and whispered, “And now, Mum, we have a fighting chance. . . .”

* * *

The witches met in Rhiannon’s sacred space, including the Empress, whose power Rhiannon desperately needed if they hoped to make this work.

The queen, the Empress, Morfyd, Nina, Rhi, and Brigida, all in their natural forms, stood in a circle. And while the others began to chant, Rhiannon walked inside the circle they created, tossing the ashes from the sacrifices she’d made, creating a circle within a circle.

Once she was done, she stood between her daughter and granddaughter, everyone linking claws and paws and hands. Then they began the summoning.

* * *

The Zealots retreated back toward the castle and Brannie finally returned to her troops. When Aidan, Caswyn, and Uther tagged along, Izzy immediately noticed and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you have a war to fight, General?” Brannie snapped. “Legions to command?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Izzy replied in that annoying, high-pitched way.

After that, they all waited in silence until Duke Salebiri finally appeared, riding into the middle of the battleground with a company of soldiers behind him. He dismounted from his horse and turned in a circle. “You sent me a challenge, queen’s whore,” he called out. “And now you hide?”

The ground shook as Bercelak landed hard in front of Salebiri.

“Hide?” Bercelak asked. “From a human? That day will never happen.”

“Well, well, well,” Salebiri taunted. “The great Bercelak the . . .”

“Great,” Bercelak finished for him. “It sounded better in your head, didn’t it?”

Brannie and the Cadwaladrs laughed—they couldn’t help it. But that only enraged Salebiri.