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Her grandmother had been right. The clan needed to know she was on their side, that she was all in. And the reality of what they were facing seemed to pull the focus over them all like a shroud.

“What is Noshtiz trying to do?” Kladara eventually asked.

“What if they fail?” Uncle Dinhal asked.

The First cleared her throat. “All of Istri has suffered these last fifteen years. We’ve lost our homes, our loved ones, our lives from before. We have sacrificed dearly to make it this far. This is what it’s all building to. This last great battle. And just like the last fifteen years, all we can do is survive it.”

Iryana reached out and squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “We will survive it together. We are strong, and we have each other. Our oaths will guide us. I will call on the other clans to meet, and we will figure out what is going to happen next.”

They might be helpless against the gods, but looking out at the determination building on her clan’s faces gave her hope.

They had two months. Iryana offered what she knew and discussed the first steps of their plan. She presented a front of calm confidence, of assuredness that she did not fully feel. It was what they needed. And afterward, she was curled over the First’s desk for hours writing out missive after missive, handing them over to be delivered as quickly as possible. She even wrote to the conclave to share what she’d learned, begged them to stop the experiments and to ask Scholar Alar if he knew of Noshtiz’s other followers.

Once she had poured everything she had into starting the preparations, Iryana headed for her room. Her bedding was still piled in the hall with most of the others, but she needed some time without people looking at her expectantly, time where she didn’t have to be strong. Her hands shook as she opened the door.

Before she’d even taken two paces inside, her sisters were barging in after her.

“I’m sorry, Iri.” Hadima wrapped Iryana in her arms. Misha watched sympathetically from the door.

“It’s fine.” Iryana tried to push her older sister away, but Hadima hung on.

“I had really hoped things would work out…”

“This isn’t something I should be upset about, there’s too much at stake right now.”

Hadima shook her head against Iryana’s shoulder. “No, the heart must be strong to see the rest through something like this. But we’re here. And we love you.”

Misha didn’t say anything, but she didn’t argue with Hadima’s words.

So, Iryana squeezed her sister back until she felt less untethered. Leaning back to look her sisters over, Iryana smiled at them. “I love you both, so much.”

Over the next few nights, it became a pattern. After projecting strength and confidence all day, her sisters would meet in one of the rooms and Iryana didn’t have to pretend. She could talk about her fears openly. It helped.

Three nights after the clan meeting, Iryana was sitting alone after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Before she’d even answered, Hadima shoved it open. Worry and panic were alight in her sister’s eyes and Iryana felt dread slam into her.

Was something wrong with Misha? With the First?

But Hadima gasped, “There’s a runner from the brigade. They’re under attack.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“What? By who?” Iryana’s heart raced.

Hadima’s face grew grave. “Dakii, armored bears, and Noshtiz’s creatures attacked out of nowhere. They’re under manned because so many soldiers have been sent to warn the nearby settlements. We’re the closest help there is.”

This was it. The turning point.

Iryana gave herself a moment to wallow in fear and indecision. And then she stormed through the house, the others trailing behind her. Much of the clan had already gathered in the hall, readying for bed. But they had heard the news as well; the runner had collapsed in the corner, utterly exhausted.

“The 18th has called for help,” she announced loudly the moment she entered the room.

Everyone looked at her with skeptical expressions.

“We have to help,” she added.

But instead of seeing the determined look of warriors ready for battle, they were hesitant. Reluctant.

“We’re supposed to defend this border, not abandon our post to help the gangs,” Edvar said.