It was what she had been charged with by the King of the Silver River. It was what she had been given to do, and even if she wasn’t certain how to go about it, she had to try something. She had been struggling with her sense of inadequacy from the moment the King of the Silver River had told her what she must do, but there was no time left to think about it. The battle was raging back and forth in front of her, the combatants fighting their way across the killing field, the dead lying all around them, the earth bloodstained and scarred. Panterra was being pushed back, slowly and steadily, by the demon’s attack. He was still protecting himself, but she could tell that it was only a matter of time until the attack broke down his defenses and left him helpless.

She felt a wave of despair sweep through her. Pan still wasn’t experienced enough for a battle of this sort. He wasn’t trained to fight it. The black staff was still too unfamiliar and the magic too strange. He was wielding it the way he would any new weapon—tentatively, defensively, uncertainly. Though he did his best, it was already clear that his best might not be good enough to save him. If she didn’t intervene in a way that would shift the momentum in his favor, he would die.

But still something held her back, preventing her from intervening.

Do something!

Then abruptly the scarlet dove left its roost and began to soar through the skies above the fighters, spiraling blood red against the grays and blacks that colored Prue’s world. Prue’s gaze shifted instantly to track its flight. It had taken on a distinctly different look now, more fierce and warlike, more hawk than dove. She watched it bank and straighten, gain altitude and then descend. What was it doing? She could feel its fluid movements in the beating of her heart. She could feel them tugging at her, the bond between them stretching.

She came to her feet in response, left her place of hiding and strode out through the shadows into the early-morning light. “Stay where you are,” she whispered to Aislinne as she did so. “Don’t let him see you.”

She kept walking until she was clear of the pass and standing fully exposed in a patch of sunlight. She saw Pan glance her way—a moment only, because that was all he was allowed before being forced to return his attention to the demon. But it was enough. He knew she was there. He was frightened for her, she could tell, but he was uplifted, too. It reflected in his eyes before he was forced to turn away again.