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The fortress was wild with activity, soldiers and workers running around to repair the damage and switch out the watch.

“Has the fort ever seen anything this bad?” Iryana asked quietly.

Vaneshta sobered. “No, not even when we were first establishing the fort or when the brigades were warring for territory.”

“Pyetar has already filled everyone in, I assume?”

Vaneshta nodded. “It’s only going to get worse from here.”

It was a dizzying thought.

Vaneshta brought her to Pyetar’s study, where he waited with the major and the rest of their old team. They all looked as exhausted as Iryana felt, slumped on the various couches and chairs, clothes still splattered with blood.

Pyetar intercepted her by the doorway, Vaneshta going to sit on the arm of Lidishta’s chair.

“Are you alright?” he asked, hushed and urgent. “I didn’t want you to come yourself when I sent for help.”

Iryana smiled lightly at his concern. “I’m okay, I promise. I was careful about how many times I formed my forgings.”

Pyetar searched her eyes and then scanned the rest of her body carefully, as if he didn’t believe her.

“Pyetar,” she grabbed his attention, squeezing his arm. “I’m okay.”

He eventually nodded. “And… with your clan? Now that they know about us?”

Iryana frowned with confusion, straightening. “I told them there wasn’t an us. That there wouldn’t be.”

Pyetar’s eyes slammed shut, his features twisting.

“Why are you…”

“They had already found out,” he croaked. “Why not just… accept that they know?”

“It’s not that simple,” she pleaded quietly. “We talked about this…”

“But they found out. I thought all bets would be off once they found out.”

“You didn’t see how betrayed they were. How hurt they were. The clan would have fallen apart. No one would have trusted me.” Why didn’t he understand this?

“You could have explained. Help them to see.”

“I told them that I chose them. They need me.”

“What about me? I need you too.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could be what you need. But my clan has to come first.”

Pyetar pulled back, clearly hurt. “Yeah, I got that.”

She opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what else to say. She had messed up again, but she didn’t know what she could have done differently.

“Are you two lovebirds ready?” Vabihn shouted from where he lounged over the back of the couch.

Pyetar sighed while Iryana stepped around him to join the others, flipping Vabihn off as she leaned against the front of Pyetar’s desk.

“We’ve learned a lot today,” Pyetar addressed them all, clearly having shaken off the discomfort of their conversation. “And we need to talk about it. You all know the most about what’s going on, and I trust you more than anyone else. So, let’s work through it.”

“Well,” Vaneshta started, eyeing Pyetar. “You said the gods don’t have much control over their creations, only a few basic directions based on how much magic they use. The dakii are gathering into larger groups now, hunting any sign of Noshtiz, I assume. And Mhakiza’s dragon wants to stop the metal-badgers.”