The others were quick to act, and before long, the air was alive with brilliant magic, spells cloaking the poor soldiers to keep them safe from further harm. “What tyrant would blight his own people?” Kance gasped. “His own loyal soldiers? This is unthinkable!”

“I am entirely unsurprised, given all the stories I’ve heard of Aadil,” Zoya said drolly, firmly tying off a ward around another grateful fighter. “Good thing we didn’t think to wait for them to come. Aadil could have sent them after us next.”

“Too late!” Althy shouted. Some of the other half dozen soldiers who had yet to be warded were starting to change. Desperate, still beseeching, their features warped, and I could only watch helplessly as their new, grisly forms sealed their fate. The other, more fortunate Drychta scrambled away from their transformed comrades, shouting frantically.

But how? Who had woven the rune? All the men were within my line of sight, and not one of them had moved.

Some instinct told me to look up. High above a ledge, a cloaked figure stood, an arm raised. There was a quick, cutting gesture, and the last of the unwarded, blighted men completed their horrific metamorphosis. The hooded shape lingered for a few moments, staring down at me. The distance was too far for me to make out any features, but I knew who it must be.

A blast of lightning erupted from Zoya’s fingertips, aimed at the cowled stranger.

But the figure stepped away, avoiding the attack, almost dismissive of the attempt, and the lightning sizzled harmlessly against the escarpment. The figure twisted its head in my direction. I could not see its face but knew its eyes were on me, cold and assessing, before it turned and disappeared back into the—

The Dark asha’s letter ended there. The rest of the tale was missing.

“You were always impulsive, Zoya,” the bone witch said, “though I would be a hypocrite to criticize you for something I have always been guilty of myself.”

“Let me go,” Zoya told her, “and I can offer you another refresher.”

The Dark asha laughed at that.

“Why hadn’t you thought to tell us before, little uchenik?” Lord Rahim pleaded. “Why such secrecy? Why did you have to burn a mountain?”

“Because there is a traitor among you. I discovered it only recently, after you had all left the safety of Ankyo’s runic wards. I would denounce the betrayer, but what good would that do? You would have never believed me before, and it was more advantageous for me to keep an eye on her where she was, rather than have her flee once more into parts unknown.”

“Who is it?” Lord Fox was tight-lipped and trembling, the sword heavy in his hands. He raised it toward the Dark asha. She did not move, did not compel him. She watched him instead, and somehow that was worse.