Atrine, Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Tyentso told a high lord to “stand there and look pretty”

Janel woke, gratified to be alive, fearful of what news the Living World would bring. The Afterlife had been strangely deserted, with no sign of the demon hordes she expected to find snapping at the heels of such62 a massive event as the destruction of Atrine. The souls of the dead had freely wandered, however. There had been so many.

She staggered to her feet, ignored the concerned looks of military physickers. Outside, smoke turned the normally teal sky a sooty green; she’d only been unconscious for a few hours.

Ninavis waited for her outside the tent.

The woman seemed uninjured, a few smudges marking points on her forehead and jaw. Ninavis gestured toward a Joratese azhock as soon as she saw Janel, and they both started walking in that direction.

“Casualties?” Janel asked.

“We lost a few,” Ninavis admitted. “Dango took some shrapnel in his leg, but he’ll be fine. Although you wouldn’t know that with the way his husband’s fussing over him.”

“Oh, I can’t blame Baramon for that. I’d fuss too. What about—”

“Arasgon’s fine.” Ninavis held open the azhock flap for Janel. “He’s over at the refugee camp, helping herd.”

Janel nodded, relieved, and then couldn’t help but smile as she entered the azhock and saw the Markreev Malkoessian’s pennants. The smile faded quickly. There was only one reason that the Markreev would have set himself up so close to the high general’s bivouac: because the duke was in no position to do so.

“I’ll assume this means you weren’t able to save Duke Xun.”

“He must have died in the first few minutes of the attack. We always knew that was a possibility. Plan B, on the other hand, went smooth as silk.” The Marakori woman tapped the satchel at her hip.

“Good. That’s not all of them, I hope?”

“Oh no. Call it a representative sample.”

“Good enough.” Janel inhaled deeply. “Ninavis, I need to change the plan. I know what we discussed, but there’s simply no way—”

The tent flap moved as Markreev Aroth Malkoessian entered. He halted, shocked. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have had guards enter first, but maybe he’d assumed he’d be safe in the middle of the Quuros army encampment.

He recovered quickly, closing his mouth as he starred at Janel. “I had half convinced myself I’d seen a ghost when I spotted you earlier.”

Janel broke off from her conversation with Ninavis. She leaned against the table, stretched her arms up over her head, and smiled. “Oh no. Not at all. So now we really must finish that conversation we once had so many years ago about my ‘place.’”

The Markreev’s eyes narrowed as he lifted his chin.