At least there’s that, Han thought. Bayar is dead. The architect of so much pain and suffering. Maybe Willo can rest easier now.

Finally, Willo and Dancer pulled apart. She blotted her face with her sleeve and said, “They are waiting for you.” She paused, then added in a low voice, “Be careful.”

The other elders stood, hard-faced and wary, around a makeshift stone hearth in a small clearing. Several of the clan leadership were bandaged up—evidence of recent skirmishes.

Lord Averill stood a little apart from the others, wearing a Demonai battle tunic and leggings. His gray hair was braided, and his clothing was stained with blood, though Han didn’t know if it was Averill’s own or someone else’s.

Elena Cennestre, too, was in battle dress, multiple talismans strung onto a chain around her neck and woven into her braids.

“Hunts Alone,” she said, black eyes like obsidian. “Welcome to our hearth.” Her stance and body language belied the words.

“Who do you speak for, Alister?” Averill said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “For the Wizard Council—as High Wizard?”

“I speak for myself,” Han said. He sat down on the ground, and Bird and Dancer flanked him on either side. Willo took her place with Elena and Averill, the other clan royalty present, and Shilo Trailblazer sat with a handful of watchful warriors, their hands on their weapons.

“Lord Bayar and his daughter Fiona are dead,” Han said, without further preamble.

“How did this happen?” Elena demanded after a moment’s stunned silence. “Who deserves credit for this kill?”

Han hesitated, glancing at Bird and Dancer, unsure if they wanted to be named or not.

“Night Bird Demonai killed Fiona, to save Hunts Alone’s life,” Dancer said. “Hunts Alone killed Lord Bayar.”

This drew a mixed reaction—approval for the deaths of the Bayars, disapproval of the context.

Han held up his hand. “In truth, it’s too bad we are still killing wizards, because we will need every gifted hand to drive out the southerners.”

Approval turned to disapproval on nearly every face.

“What help has your kind offered so far?” Shilo said, eyebrows raised, her gaze resting pointedly on Han and Dancer. “Most are hiding in the countryside.”

“Fire Dancer, Bird, and I have a plan to break the siege on Fellsmarch Castle and drive the southerners back where they came from.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Averill said, folding his arms.

“It will require you to work with the gifted,” Han said. “Can you manage that? Otherwise, this is a waste of time.”

“What do you mean when you say, ‘work with them’?” Elena asked.

Han sat forward. “The gifted need better weapons, and you’re the ones can provide them.”

“Weapons they will use on us,” Elena said.

“Let him speak, Elena Cennestre,” Willo said. “You’ll have your turn.”