She couldn’t think about them, couldn’t pity them. They couldn’t win this battle without the Clans, and if they didn’t win today, they would keep fighting, keep dying, keep getting pushed back until there was nowhere to go. So they would fight to the end today—and, hopefully, some of them would go home again.

“Are we ready?” Liam asked, moving up beside her.

Ashk stared at the line of trees at the other end of the field. “We’d better be. They’re coming.” She moved down the rise, heading toward the huntsmen waiting for her. “You know what to do?”

Liam nodded. “My men will take up a position in the trees that border this side of the rise. We stay hidden until the Wild Hunt sweeps down into the field, breaking their lines. Then we deal with the men who are driven our way.” He smiled bleakly. “I know you gave me that position to keep me out of harm’s way, Ashk, but this is my land, my people.”

“And they’re going to need you when this is over. Sylvalan will need you when this is over.”

“Sylvalan needed the barons who died yesterday, too.”

“Don’t argue with me, Liam.”

He stared past her, and whispered, “Breanna.”

She turned—and wanted to snarl. But the woman walking toward her looked too emotionally battered to endure harsh words, so she choked them back.

Ignoring Liam, Breanna came up to Ashk. “My home. My family. I couldn’t help you yesterday. I won’t stand aside today.”

“You sound like your brother,” Ashk said at the same moment Liam said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t argue with me, Liam,” Breanna snapped.

He muttered a few extremely vulgar phrases.

Ashk looked at Breanna—and at Falco, who stood just behind her, already pale and sweating. Neither of them should go down into that field, but Breanna, for whatever reason, would do just that. And Falco would go with her.

“Do you see that jumble of wood and stone at the top of the rise?” Ashk pointed to the place where they’d used branches and stones to build a small wall. “I want you to take a position behind that wall. Stay down.”

“I—”

Ashk raised her hand. “You want to help, I’ll take the help. But give me the help I need.”

Breanna blinked.

“Your gift is air, isn’t it?” She waited for Breanna’s nod. “We want the first lines to get past the middle of the field before we move, but that means all the men on our side of the rise will be stationary targets. Blind hits, true, but that won’t matter if we lose too many men before the fight even begins.”

“You want a hard wind their bowmen have to shoot against.”

“Yes.”

Breanna smiled. “I can summon a wind.”

“Go on, then. Get in position.”