Rosalind grabbed her closest arm and pulled her upright. The shock of contact cleared Cordelia’s vision for just a moment.

The mass of soldiers in the barren field below was rippling like an agitated swarm of bees, both armies reassembling to face the hillside and the three children. Swords and pikes glinted before them, under the gray and cloudy sky. Beyond the high city walls, Cordelia sensed even more frantic movement taking place.

“Well …” Giles’s laugh shivered with nerves. “At least we have their attention now.”

“Good,” Cordelia said with an effort. “It’s your turn.”

“My—?”

“Oh, Giles.” Through her blurred vision and the dizzying rush of green power racing through her veins, Cordelia managed a smile for her gangly, rumpled triplet. “Haven’t you always wanted a real audience?”

“You told all of us you’d sing for kings and queens one day,” said Rosalind. “Just look at everyone waiting to hear from you now!”

Shoulders hunching, he shook his head. “They’re not waiting for me. I’m not the Raven Heir. I’m useless. I—”

“I can’t do this without you,” Cordelia said. It was the truth, and she’d finally come to understand it on their journey. “This only works—all of it—if we do it together.”

Heart. Spirit. Fierce protection.

All the old contracts had finally been renewed in the form of three newborn babies lying together in one cot … and now it was time to prove it.

“Do you really think Cordelia’s going to talk them into seeing sense?” Rosalind demanded. “Have you ever met our sister?” She snorted loudly. “She can shake those high walls to the ground if she likes, or turn into a lion and eat some soldiers. But you’re the only one who knows how to talk to people.”

It felt good for Cordelia to roll her eyes. It reminded her, for a startling moment of clarity, that she was still Cordelia after all, not just a walking, talking vessel for the land around her.

Vessels probably didn’t feel so tempted to poke their sisters, hard.

“You’re not useless,” she told Giles. “You have your own powers, and it’s time to use them. All of them.”

Giles stared at her for a long moment. Then he straightened. His shoulders pulled back and his chin rose high for the first time in days. “You’re right,” he said as he brushed off his dirty blue doublet. “You do need me.” His lips stretched into a fierce smile. “And I have just the right song for this moment!”

Rosalind groaned. “I said talk, you—”

“Shh!” Cordelia shook her head, riding waves of dizziness, as Giles stepped forward and drew a familiar deep breath. He threw out his arms in greeting to the staring soldiers below. “Let him sing first,” she murmured.

Then Giles sang out a high, clear note, and both of them were stunned into utter silence.