I whirl around to face Erevan, pointing at the dead elf. “Is this what you wanted?”

Erevan has gone pale, his jaw slack.

“Tell them to move out,” I snarl. “We will deal with this. I swear to you they will be heard, but I need time. Tyr needs time, and we need to find Atlas.” I drag Erevan towards me and force him to look at the dead elf. “Don’t make this worse.”

Finally, Erevan stirs out of his daze and nods, lifting a hand. It takes a moment for others to notice the signal filtering through the crowd. He looks at me, dark circles under his eyes, his expression more lost than I can ever remember.

“Erevan,” I say into his ear, using a low voice. “If Tyr chooses to descend, then you understand what must happen. I know you don’t want this but—”

He lifts his hand, cutting me off.

“I’ll deal with this,” he says, refusing yet again to talk about his destiny. The one the Mirror chose for him that fateful day a century ago. “But this is a warning, Gabe. You can’t keep ignoring them much longer.”

Then he tugs on his jacket and strides away, passing through the line of guards. He shouts a few words to the watching low fae, and it’s a measure of just how much they respect him that they slowly follow, carrying the body of the elf with them, filing out as they cast wary glances in my direction.

“Repair and then fortify the gate,” I say once they’re all gone. “And double the wall guard.”

“Yes, sir,” answers a soldier as they move into action. I watch for a moment, conscious of so many eyes on me. Hylene stands beside me with her patient presence, but I’m far too aware these soldiers under my command must be questioning everything I’m doing.

Then I spin around and am once again caught off guard by the sight of two figures I thought I’d never see again.

“Lor? Nadir?” I ask. Behind them are Mael, Amya, and Lor’s siblings, along with more guards, who’ve obviously brought them in through another entrance.

“Hey,” Lor says with a wave. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full here.”

They all look like shit. Like they’ve been chewed up and spit back out, their clothes torn and all in need of a bath or five.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask.

Nadir and Lor exchange a wary look.

“That’s a bit of a long story,” she says. “Maybe we should go inside and talk once you’ve dealt with things out here.”

I run a hand down my face as raindrops begin to patter against the ground. I look past the wall where the crowd still mills, but they seem settled enough. We’ve averted disaster for one more day. But just barely.