He lowered his head, feeling like a lovelorn boy. He was King of Requiem, and Laira was a chieftain, and yet he was acting like a foolish boy spurned by a village girl. He would not lose her, not truly. She would wed Oritan, but she would still fight by his side. And he knew that she sacrificed herself for Requiem, not for any love she harbored the chieftain of Leatherwing.

And yet still the thought of her in Oritan's bed soured his belly.

He unslung his axe from his back and was hefting the weapon—an action he often took to soothe himself—when the shadows appears on the horizon.

Jeid froze and stared.

From here it looked like insects rising from a carcass, a cloud of many black spots. Distant sounds rose on the wind—squeals, grunts, screams. A human voice seemed to call among them, and the setting sun glinted on metal. Jeid bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes, staring. Iciness flowed across him.

"The demon army."

They stormed closer, larger with every heartbeat. A thousand of the creatures—still only specks from here—covered the sky like locusts. Jeid's grip tightened on his axe. He remembered the demonic octopus they had fought; four dragons together had barely defeated the creature, and now a thousand of its brethren flew here. For a moment Jeid could only stare, frozen.

Twenty dragons, he thought. Two hundred rocs and pteros. Against the ancient horde of the underworld.

It was a fight they could not win.

We're not ready. Stars, we need more time. We need Maev to return with more dragons. We need Issari to ascend to Eteer's throne. His hands shook around his axe's shaft, and a strangled growl rose from his throat. We cannot win. We must flee.

The sun set and the stars emerged above. Their light fell upon him, the light of Requiem, and Jeid took a deep, shuddering breath.

"For you, Requiem," he whispered, thinking of his daughter, thinking of the kingdom he would raise.

The demons flew nearer, their shrieks louder now. Jeid turned, ran into the cave, and shifted into a dragon. Light, song, and color filled the great cavern. Pteros hung from ceiling and walls like bats. Rocs perched in alcoves. Tribesmen danced on the cave floor, wearing wooden masks and cloaks of feathers. Laira and Oritan stood upon the stone pillar in the cavern's center; she wore an embroidered garment inlaid with jewels, and he wore his armor of bones. Game cooked upon fires, the smoke wafting out of a hole high above—one of the skulls' eye sockets.

A copper dragon, Jeid flew around the chamber, sounding his alarm.

"Demons! Demons attack. The horde is here!"

The music died. All eyes turned toward him.

After a heartbeat of silence, the cavern erupted.