“Soldiers,” she growled. “Three of them.”

“Wait here,” Stasia whispered to the others. “We’ll handle this.”

Together Stasia and Mari prowled ahead. Cyrus waited behind, biting his lip to fight his nerves. He hated letting them go alone, even if it made the most sense. Deciding it a weak compromise, he crawled a bit closer so he could at least observe the ambush. Rayan and Arn lurked farther behind, awaiting their signal to approach.

The trio of soldiers patrolling the path hadn’t a chance. The two sisters struck with uncanny cooperation born of a shared childhood growing up amid war and insurrection. Mari leaped into the air, a soft swish of grass the only warning of her attack. She struck the lead soldier directly in the chest with her front paws, her jagged wings knifing downward to tear out his throat before he could let out a single cry. Stasia followed in her wake, twin axes flashing silver in the moonlight. With his weapon still sheathed, her foe had no defense against the double chop that cleaved his face in half, a far less subtle but still effective kill that denied a warning call for the other patrols.

“Ambush!” the final soldier screamed, or at least tried to scream. Only the first half of the word came out before Stasia’s heel buried into his gut, robbing him of breath. Mari fell upon him an instant later, teeth in his throat so that second half of the word would never be spoken.

So far so good, Cyrus told himself, but he knew there would be far more resistance at the sacrifice. Mari returned to the lead, while Stasia beckoned the others to follow.

They could hear the chants long before Cyrus looked over the cliff. The sight of it awakened feelings of something deeply wrong inside his stomach. Ten men and women dressed in white acolyte robes, pressumably the Seeds that Arn had spoken of, stood in a circle around a naked Gordian Goldleaf. The regent knelt in the center of their circle, his head bowed and his hands raised above him. Golden light sparkled around his body, swirling like a gilded fog. There was no denying the aura’s resemblance to the ethereal weapons the magistrates could summon with their faith.

Separate from the circle, leading the chants of the Seeds, was Thanet’s Anointed, Sinshei vin Lucavi. Cyrus would recognize her ankle-length hair anywhere. Paragons accompanied her, including Imperator Magus and the blue-armored spear wielder whom Cyrus remembered slaying Endarius during the initial invasion. Keeping much farther away to form protective rings were armored soldiers, pointedly looking anywhere but the sacrificial ritual. Cyrus had never been to the Solemn Sands before, but from what he could tell, both the northern and the southern sides were blocked off by the sheer white cliffs stretching into the ocean much farther than the shore. Arrival meant either swimming, or descending down from above.