“We figure out how to be married for real instead of for politics.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“Then we figure out how to be divorced for real.”
The matter-of-fact way he discusses both possibilities reassures me. No false promises or unrealistic expectations. Just an honest acknowledgment that we’re both taking this seriously.
“Movement on the eastern approach,” Theodore radios. “The main Thornridge force is advancing.”
“How many?”
“Over one hundred fighters, plus magical weapon teams.”
“Time to go to work,” I tell Wyn.
Through binoculars, I watch Thornridge forces spread into attack formation. Their discipline is impressive, but they’re moving exactly as we hoped—concentrating their strength for what they believe will be a decisive capture operation.
“They’re committing everything,” Wyn observes.
“Good. That means when we spring the trap, we’ll hit their entire force instead of just advance elements.”
“Assuming the trap works.”
“It has to work. We don’t have backup plans that don’t end with everyone dead.”
Thornridge scouts appear at the base of our position, moving carefully but confidently. They’ve spotted us exactly as planned, and I can sense their excitement at the prospect of completing their mission.
“Target confirmed,” one scout radios to his commander. “The omega is in the exposed position with minimal security.”
“Begin capture,” comes the response.
The main assault force starts its advance, moving with the confidence of professionals who believe they’ve identified all threats. Behind them, magical weapons move into supporting positions, ready to provide overwhelming firepower if resistance proves stronger than expected.
“Here we go,” I murmur to Wyn.
“Try not to get us killed,” he replies with a grin that doesn’t hide his worry.
“I’ll do my best.”
Chapter 23 - Wyn
The first magical weapon fires at 0547 hours, turning our eastern watchtower into a crater.
“All units, weapons free,” I radio as debris rains down. “Thornridge has begun its assault.”
Around me, our carefully positioned alliance springs into action. Dora, Raegan’s roommate from school, who has joined the fight, moves with her Llewelyn unit, and their blue and silver armor gleams as they emerge from concealment. Her red hair streams behind her as she leads a flanking maneuver toward the advancing Thornridge forces.
“Second weapon charging,” Theodore reports from his position. “Target appears to be the command center.”
Sera’s voice comes through the Llewelyn communication network. “Northern approach clear. Thornridge scouts eliminated.”
“Sage,” I call to the witch enhancing Raegan’s abilities, “can you disrupt their targeting?”
“Working on it,” she responds, pressing her hands against Raegan’s temples as my wife extends her psychic abilities toward the Thornridge weapons.
Blood begins trickling from Raegan’s nose, but the charging weapon wavers as its energy signature becomes unstable.
“Got it,” she gasps. “But I can’t hold interference on multiple weapons at once.”