“It will still take time for our army to travel north,” Demos said. “So, we need to get to Vicer and the three thousand hybrids with him. We’ll guard the mouth of the Asric Pass and buy our people as much time as we canuntil help arrives.”

Silence claimed the room.

It was insane. At the very least, it was audacious, risky, and dangerous.

But it was our only chance. There was no other way to position our army along the coast to protect our people.

“Logistics,” Telean croaked.

Demos sighed. “Kaelin Stillcrest said the pass through the Normathe Mountains is more dangerous than the Asric Pass, but it was her only plan if they were ever attacked. Of course, that plan relied on their scouts noticing that Regner’s guards were on their way several days before they actually attacked.” His expression darkened, and his hand tightened slightly on his corner of the map before he released his fist, smoothing the parchment back out.

“We need Rekja to march the rest of our army,” Demos said into the silence. “Now. If they cut west through Gromalia into Eprotha—near Crawyth, they’ll avoid Regner’s regiment. From there, they head north.”

“They’re going to be exhausted,” Telean said, her eyes stark.

“They will,” Demos said. “We’re scrambling to get our armies into place. And once they arrive, they’ll be tired from traveling so quickly. Morale will be low, and so will supplies. Regner is getting exactly what he wanted.”

26

Asinia

It took us another day and a half to meet up with Vicer and the hybrids. We’d traveled through most of the night, stopping only to allow the horses to rest and grabbing a few hours of sleep ourselves.

We found their camp a day’s ride from the foothills of the Asric Mountains, along the Eprothan and Fae border. The circles beneath Vicer’s eyes were so dark they looked almost like ink, and I wrapped him in a hug. He patted me on the back. “Good to see you, Asinia.”

“Where can we talk?” Demos asked.

Vicer led us to his tent. Firion created a sound ward, and Demos gave him a nod of thanks. The rest of us sat on the ground. Even the fae seemed exhausted from how hard we’d pushed ourselves to get to Vicer.

But Demos turned and poked his head out of the tent. “I need Stillcrest,” he said to someone. “Bring her here.”

When he turned back to face us, his gaze found Vicer’s. “What happened?”

Strands of Vicer’s hair had come loose from the low ponytail he usually wore, and he shoved them off his face.

“Finley wasn’t the only spider in ourranks. Weapons began going missing, horses were suddenly lame, porridge caused a food-poisoning outbreak so extensive that we lost an entire day of marching. The weather turned, and everyone seemed to become sick again at once. We attempted to keep those who were coughing separated from the others, but…” His voice trailed off.

“Do you have your suspicions?” Demos asked.

“Yes. I’ve got my most trusted people watching anyone suspected of being one of Regner’s spiders, but I have to be absolutely sure they aren’t arresting the innocent.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You’d think it might help that Regner’s webs usually appear on faces, necks, and throats once his spiders begin carrying out their orders. But it’s horrific for morale. Soldiers have begun harboring distrust for the people they sleep and march next to. When the porridge was fouled, one of the cooks slit his own throat right after everyone had been served. And every inch of his face was covered with a black web.”

My head spun at the image his words conjured. Demos had once told me that trust was everything in war. You had to trust that the soldier next to you would hold the line until the moment he died. If he turned to run, so would others, and all would be lost. Battles across our history had been won and lost based not just on weapons, weather, or location. But also due to courage, friendship, and bravery.

Demos’s lips thinned. “Send a message to Rekja,” he ordered Firion. “Tell him to protect Tor with everything he has. I don’t want anyone near him except Rekja and Thora.”

My mouth turned watery. Of course. With so many spiders beginning to reveal themselves, it was likely one of them was close to Tor. And any who were magically bound to protect Regner would know that Tor was currently the human king’s biggest threat.

Firion nodded, stepping out of the tent as Kaelin Stillcrest walked in. I hadn’t thought she could look much worse than the last time I’d seen her. But I’d been wrong.

Oh, she’d put on some much-needed weight since Prisca and Lorian’s wedding. But her cheeks were sunken, and she appeared as if she were sleepwalking. There was no life in her eyes. Nothing except cold determination.

Stillcrest didn’t say a word, and Vicer didn’t look at her.

Demos told them of Regner’s plans to attack the hybrids at the pass.

Stillcrest closed her eyes, her face draining of color.

And Vicer…