When the fighting ceases, the field is littered with bodies covered in as many splatters of blood as blue runes. Only a few stragglers, most of whom appear gravely injured, are still stirring among the carnage.

She looks to Sirach, whose expression is as grim and serious as Evie could’ve ever imagined it.

Neither of them says a word.

Across the valley, the Skrain march forward, spears and swords and shields and armor all gleaming brilliant and majestic. They are three thousand strong and four columns deep, waves of well-trained, well-armed cogs forming a perfect killing machine, aimed at the heart of Evie’s depleted rebellion.

Her forces do not advance, however. They simply hold their position, waiting, despite the fact that much of their line is exposed and vulnerable to frontal assault.

The Skrain enter the killing field of bodies, stepping over dead Legionnaires with long-practiced indifference and efficiency.

Then, above the crunching chorus of steel joints on the march, a lone scream rings out from within the Skrain ranks.

It doesn’t halt or even slow the march, and there’s no visible disturbance from where Evie and Sirach stand. Then a second scream rings out, and perhaps it is Skrain soldiers delivering death blows as they move. A flash of steel armor, however, accompanies the next scream, as one of those Skrain soldiers appears to be sucked down by the earth itself. Then a scream that must belong to Lariat rings out like thunder as he and the rest of the Elder Company spring from the ground and begin hacking and slashing into Skrain legs by the half dozen.

The dead rise, or so it appears to those observing the battle from a distance. Half the fallen Savages awaken and sit and stand up, some attacking the Skrain with blades and bludgeons while others drag them down to the ground as though their arms are reaching up from a lonely grave. It’s as if the Skrain have marched into a field of living weeds hungry to coil around their legs and feed them to the soil.

Soon the Skrain advance has halted almost completely, and the portion of the columns that continue are suddenly caught between the rebel line and their own soldiers skirmishing with what they thought were dead men and women. It’s not only the Savages under Evie’s command; many of the Legionnaires who fought for the Skrain have risen to attack them, all those Savages wearing bright red cloth around their necks.