“Actually, we do,” Wesley said. “I’ll lead a small team into Creije, at which point we activate magic to freeze Ashwood’s forces in the city, locking them in a moment of time. At that point, our army will head in. Half will go to Yejlath to defend the city from falling, led by you and Arjun over here.” Wesley nodded at the sword-wielding Crafter. “The other half will stay in Creije, led by me, and start taking out Ashwood’s incapacitated forces, regaining the capital.”

“A double-pronged attack,” Schulze said with interest. “We would come at Dante Ashwood from all sides?”

“Exactly,” Wesley said. “He won’t know what part to defend.”

“But he still has the elixir,” Schulze said. “Even if we defeat his forces once, he could make more.”

“It seems my people are coming up with all the plans.”

Wesley said it like it was real hard work and he took no pleasure in it at all. Only, he took great pleasure in his team being brilliant.

“We have a potential cure for the Loj,” he said. “It’ll protect our armies during battle and give the rest of the realms immunity in the future to stop this from ever happening again.”

Even a politician as well-practiced in deception as Schulze couldn’t hide her intrigue. Wesley and the others were offering her everything she needed to get her realm back and keep it.

The cure was still in the works, but Saxony was confident she could perfect it in a couple of days, especially with an entire legion of Crafters at her side helping, and Wesley was sure that when they finished, it would be a success.

It had his blood, after all, and what could be stronger than that?

“I’m impressed with all that you’ve done,” Schulze admitted. “It seems that Armin was right to align with you. And I don’t say that lightly.”

“Does that mean we have a deal?” Wesley asked.

He held out his hand for Schulze to take.

“I accept your alliance, underboss,” she said. She shook his hand and the sunlight filtered stronger through the window. “When do we advance?”

For the first time since the Doyen had walked into the room, Wesley let out a long breath of relief and clasped his hands on the table.

They had an army.

They had a plan.

Now all they needed was Dante Ashwood’s head on a platter.

30

TAVIA

“That is not how you play Clover Cards,” Tavia said, throwing her hand down on the table.

“It’s how I play,” Wesley said.

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot. And a cheat.”

Wesley scooped up Tavia’s cards and shuffled them into the rest of the deck.

The estate was quiet with the night, but while the rest of their army slept and rested their bones, Tavia and Wesley sat in the gardens with the moon hovering like a streetlamp above them.