“Daughters of the Goddess,” she says. “My beloved ones. I command you to leave for the East. And to establish a new homeland there.” She turns, her fierce grayed eyes locking on to Fallon’s vicious green stare. “And to rise there, in fury and in thunder.” Her head pivots toward her guard, her eyes zeroing in on Freyja. “Freyja Zyrr,” she states. “I name you queen of the Amaz.”

Stunned cries rise and shock ignites in Wynter, racing down her spine. She knows this is a revolutionary moment. Never has a young woman been chosen as queen of the Amaz. And everyone knows of Freyja’s secret relationship with Clive Soren.

“My queen—” Freyja begins in vehement protest.

“I command it, Freyja.” Queen Alkaia cuts her off, hard as stone.

Freyja stills, her grayed face tensing with grief. Her gaze darts toward the Mages, rage burning the silvered depths of her eyes, before she turns back to Queen Alkaia and nods.

Aided by her guard, Queen Alkaia dismounts from her horse to stand before Freyja as one of the Queen’s Guard hands the monarch her wooden cane, carved into the Goddess’s serpent form. Leaning heavily on her cane, Queen Alkaia removes the ivory bird pin from her tunic and holds it out to Freyja.

“Freyja Zyrr,” Queen Alkaia says, an air of the momentous circling down, “lead our people into the future.”

“Don’t do this!” Valasca cries. “My queen! Don’t surrender yourself to these beasts!”

Freyja accepts the pin, affixes it to her military tunic, then drops to her knee before the queen. She slams her fist over her heart as she grips her axe. “I will serve your people, my beloved queen. I will die for your people, my forever queen.”

Devastated tears pool in Wynter’s eyes as she looks toward the monster at the gates, to find Fallon’s gaze suddenly pinned on her.

“We want the Icaral, as well,” Fallon states coldly.

The world tilts as Valasca snarls out her response. “Wynter, don’t take one step out of that shield!”

A rancid dizziness overtakes Wynter as she turns and takes in the crowd of families behind her. The little girls crying as they clutch toys and pets. Their loving mothers and aunts and grandmothers. Brave, beloved Freyja and Ysilldir. Alcippe and Pyrgo and Alder and so many others. These people that she has grown to love deeply in such a short period of time.

Her body trembling, her threadbare wings tight around her frail, slender frame, Wynter rises from her knees and takes a faltering step toward Fallon Bane.

“If you let the Amaz leave,” Wynter says, voice tight with fear, “I will surrender myself to you.”

Valasca explodes into fiercer protest. “No, Wynter, NO! Get to the portals and go East now!”

Fallon laughs and eyes Valasca with open incredulity.