Page 155

The First nodded. “I may not be as optimistic about the soldiers as you are—if I’m honest, I’m quite doubtful. The thought of welcoming them into the Dovaki Post makes me very nervous. We can’t be fighting each other in addition to the beasts. It would be our downfall.”

“Then why did you agree with what I said? Why did you defend me? Defend them?”

“You are my heir, Iryana. You’ll be leading this clan sooner than I think either of us would like.” She sighed, a bone-weary sound. “I have made so many sacrifices in my time as First, and as I get older, they weigh on me more heavily. I can admit a small amount of shame for what the soldiers suffered through beyond our border—how much harder they had it than us. Regret, shame… I don’t wish that for you. I will stand behind you with this and do everything I can to help it be successful. Plus, if I were to oppose you, it would create a fissure in the clan. We must be on the same side, so that the clan can stand with us harmoniously.”

Iryana swallowed, clutching her mug of water tighter. Her grandmother was a hard woman, but she’d walked an impossible edge for fifteen years. Iryana couldn’t imagine losing her grandmother’s wisdom.

“Thank you,” she repeated, voice raw.

Two days later, they finally made it back to the Dovaki Post, and the clan gathered to hear the plan. Iryana faced them, the First supportive at her side. She felt even weaker after the trip, still suffering from her magic use, but the pain was slowly getting better. She forced herself to stand tall.

The Kleesolds were apprehensive about the plan, but as on board as she could have hoped for. Despite the additional protections they’d been building around the post and the wall, there was only so much they could do with their numbers. Accepting the 18th and any others would be a big help.

But then Iryana finally came to the part she had been dreading most.

She cleared her throat. “We have to acknowledge that holding the wall is going to be difficult and extremely dangerous, no matter how much help we receive. The duchess has offered to accept certain people at Lake Vrasho, including unforged and noncombatants from the clans and villages. They would be much safer there.”

The room was silent.

“We…” Iryana glanced at her grandmother before turning back to the room. “We would like to send the children, and any who won’t be fighting to Lake Vrasho.”

“You want to separate the clan?” Aunt Emadya repeated, shock coloring her voice.

There was a mix of surprise and confusion among her clan’s faces. She avoided looking at her sisters.

“I know this isn’t typical,” the First added. “Throughout the long history of clans in Istri, the Kleesolds have never sent our people away. It’s not our way. But this threat is unlike any we have faced before. This isn’t invaders sailing up our river to take our people. This isn’t dakii pressing our border to eat us. This is war between the gods.”

It was, in a way, what she’d always feared. Breaking up the clan. The thought of doing it was heart-wrenching, but the thought of the children dying was far worse. She couldn’t be sure how well they would be protected. If anywhere was truly safe.

“It will only be temporary. If we hold out, everyone can return.” Iryana didn’t mention how likely it was that there wouldn’t be a place for them to return to.

Finally, Iryana turned to Hadima and Misha, who sat together on the front edge of the room. Hadima looked near frantic, Misha livid at her side.

“We need to decide soon who is going.” Iryana had to grab the table. She felt faint. “We’re going to give the volunteers a choice as well. The larger sleds are much slower, so we want everyone who is leaving to do so in the morning.”

She stepped away to let them all think and talk among themselves. It wasn’t an easy decision. She didn’t make it far around the room before her sisters cornered her.

“You said you want the noncombatants to leave,” Hadima said, voice shaking. “Please tell me you don’t mean for me to go.”

Iryana was breathing so hard that it was difficult to get the words out. “I want you both to be safe. I want to know you’re going to survive this. You should both seriously consider going.”

Misha reared back, but her mouth snapped shut.

“No!” Hadima snapped. “I will not leave you just because it’s safer and easier to do so. Not again. This is my place, my duty too.”

“But Hadi—”

“I was thirteen when Dad was hurt and you all moved to the cottage.” Her voice still wavered, but it was angry now. “I lost all of you that day. I rarely got to see Mother before she left, or Father before he died. I barely saw my sisters. Misha is the only one I got back, and she barely remembered me. You can grieve people who are still there, grieve people before they’re actually lost. Believe me. And I’m not doing it again.”

Iryana knew she had lost the argument. She feared for her sister, but she knew it was useful. It was Hadima’s risk to take, and Iryana couldn’t bring herself to force her away. That didn’t make the idea of her staying any less terrifying. Iryana realized tears were streaming down her face.

“I’m staying, too,” Misha declared. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”

Iryana opened her mouth at the same time as Hadima to argue, but Misha fixed them with a glare and then stepped up to Iryana. “When it was just us, I know how much you protected me. I may not be forged or have taken my guardian oaths yet, but you said you told the duchess you’d gladly take any offered help. I’m offering—no, I’m demanding. I would rather risk my life here with my family—for my family—than be anywhere else.”

She’d known Misha would fight it, but she was so young. She didn’t know real combat yet. She hadn’t faced the beasts out there.

“Misha, you don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t had to—”