He turned and raced away, whipping past an approaching Arlingfant without a word. Arling gave him a glance and then joined her sister and Bombax. “Is anything happening yet? Aphen, are you sure you’re all right?”

Aphenglow nodded. “I’m fine,” she lied.

Arling had helped clean her up after her escape with Bombax, washing her wounds and applying salves. But there were wounds on the inside that couldn’t be treated so easily, even though Arling could always detect them.

Down below, the Federation soldiers had their lines in place and were waiting for the order to attack. Apparently, the Federation army commander had decided that coming at the Keep from the west wall was the best approach. It was the one Aphenglow would have chosen, as well, which worried her. It was here that the Keep was most vulnerable.

“Won’t the Keep defend us like she did before?” Arling asked. “Won’t it be just the same with the Inner Wall as it was with the Outer Wall since no one is going to let them in voluntarily?”

Aphenglow wasn’t sure. She wanted to believe this was true, but she didn’t know enough about the magic’s conjuring to be confident that it would respond. Maybe breaching the Outer Wall had negated its effectiveness. Maybe it hadn’t been designed to defend if attackers got this far inside.

As they watched, a formation of flits eased into view from above the trees and hovered just beyond the perimeter of the main wall. Apparently, the Federation airships were going to try again. They would test the magic that had stopped them earlier, and if it failed to respond the pilots would use the flits and maybe something larger to force an entry from the air as well as the ground.

“Rail slings might stop them,” Bombax muttered. “Knock them right out of the air, those puny little things.”

Cymrian was back, moving to an open space on the wall close by. He was carrying the bow Aphenglow had seen him fashioning some days earlier in the gardens. It was a formidable-looking weapon, fully five feet long, its ends curved and notched to allow maximum draw, its surface polished to a bright sheen. Cymrian must have been working on it a long time, Aphen thought.

And then she wondered why he had brought it up here.