“Drop!” she shouted, grabbing the king’s arm and yanking him down. A spear glanced off her shoulder and spun her around, but she managed to drop low. So did Fallon. A roar filled the air, loud as the thunder of a thousand charging horses, and the hail of spears began to fly at Dundrennan’s walls. Knights who were slow to drop were impaled by spears and fell from the wall down into the bailey. She sensed the magic coming from Rucrius. He had invoked a massive whirlwind that had gripped the falling spears and hurled them against the fortress.

Spears sailed over Trynne’s head, some cracking stone with the violence of their impact. Knights cowered behind shields as the storm shook and raged. The frozen sleet stung Trynne’s cheeks, but her armor protected her.

Drew was flat against the stone wall, his eyes wide with terror as the colossal magic battered against Dundrennan’s walls. Bodies dressed in the armor of the Pierced Lion began to plummet into the bailey, and Trynne gaped in horror as she realized Rucrius’s spell was destroying Fallon’s soldiers up on the ridge. He’d invoked a storm cloud, a whirling vortex of death. Trynne cowered from it, wishing her mother were there to counter it. Wishing Myrddin was there.

“Keraunos!”

It was a woman’s voice. Morwenna’s voice. It came from the middle of the bailey, where the poisoner was standing with arms splayed wide, hair whipping in the wind. Suddenly lightning began to streak across the sky from the enormous black cyclone roiling over the palace. The glittering forks of light were heading toward Gahalatine’s army. No—they were striking repeatedly at Rucrius. They blasted into the ranks of the Chandigarli soldiers, leaving cries of panic in their wake.

The hail of spears subsided and the cloud began to dissolve and break apart.

“My lord, to the keep!” Trynne said, scuttling closer to the king. A chunk of rock whipped by her, barely missing her nose.

Trynne sensed Morwenna and Rucrius were locked in a duel of wills. Morwenna had an angry, defiant frown on her face, and her fingers were splayed as if she were digging them into something tangible. More lightning rained down on the enemy army, blast after blast of blinding fire. Trynne felt Morwenna’s reserves decreasing by the moment. She could not sustain the attack, not against the combined might of so many Wizrs.

“She’s right,” Fallon said, rising to his knees. “This is our chance to hasten to the inner wall. We cannot survive this storm long if we stay outside.”