“Only a handful of people ever knew of the prophecy,” she said. “We couldn’t afford exposing the identity of this child before he was ready. We ourselves didn’t know who it was until a week ago. Too much danger for the child.”

“He’s undoubtedly still not ready,” Thomas said.

“He’s marked. He stepped forward. He saved us from the Horde. He’s ready.” Rachelle’s tone was sweet but final.

“Speak, lad. Tell us what got into that mind of yours!”

Johnis still didn’t blink, much less lift his eyes and give the supreme commander an answer. Silvie’s heart broke for him.

“Tell him, Johnis,” Rachelle said. “Tell him how such a purebred idealist thinks and feels. How the thought of your mother’s harm makes your heart fracture into a hundred pieces. How you would cross the desert to defeat the Horde and cross ten deserts to find your mother.”

Slowly Johnis looked up from the ground. Silvie watched tears well around his soft brown eyes, then slip down his cheeks.

His face didn’t show any emotion, only his eyes, spilling tears as he stared at Rachelle. Silvie desperately wanted to reach out and put her hand on his shoulder, to give even the smallest gesture of comfort. But she couldn’t. Not in front of these others.

Instead, Rachelle walked up to him and touched his cheek tenderly, and Silvie thought he was accepting her comfort, although he showed no sign of doing so. As absurd as it seemed to Silvie, she felt a pang of regret that she hadn’t been the one to comfort him.

“You can never live down these lives on your head today,” Rachelle said, lowering her hand. “Don’t try to. Accept blame where blame is due, but don’t let this thing distract you from what you are meant to do.”

Johnis swallowed. “And what is that?” he breathed.

“Only you know.”

“As long as it’s not marching my men into madness!” Thomas said. “I know how an idealist thinks, and I know that most men on the battlefield die for misguided idealists. You’ve put me in a very difficult position.”

Johnis looked at him and started to say something, but nothing came out.

“Tell us what happened in the desert this last week,” Thomas demanded.

There it was, the question Silvie knew this would lead to. But they were sworn to secrecy about their mission and the desert they’d crossed to fulfill it.

The leafy canopy above suddenly rustled with the sound of what could only be a dozen birds simultaneously taking flight. Silvie glanced up. A black Shataiki bat, four feet in length, flew directly over them, screeching wickedly in frantic flight, chased hard by a white Roush ten feet behind.