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Her lip quirked. “Don’t tell me what to do, Pyetar Horvol.”

He let out a dramatic sigh and pinched the spot between his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

She knew what she’d like him to do with her, but Iryana knocked that thought away quickly.

“Worry about your own people, General. I can worry about myself.”

He quirked a brow, shooting her an unbelieving look. Then his gaze flicked to the soldiers, as if gauging how well everyone had prepared. He looked like a heavy snowfall was crushing him.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

He looked back at her. “I’m alive, and that’s all any of us can hope for these days.”

Iryana frowned, but she didn’t have a chance to argue when a high-pitched series of whistles carried through the wind, sending the soldiers into action.

“There are dakii entering the valley.” Pyetar looked more tired as the adrenaline surged at the incoming fight. “We’ve got scouts up on the ridges on either side of the valley, looking for oncoming dakii or the refugees.”

Everyone was so practiced at this already. Lines of soldiers in their usual formations gathered at the choke point. Spears, shields, axes, and other weapons in various shades of purple appeared in their hands. On raised platforms behind them, purple, gold, and regular wooden bows were nocked and prepared to be drawn.

Iryana headed toward the nearest choke point.

“Iryana, wait!” Pyetar called from behind her. He grabbed her shoulder. “We’ve got this. You don’t need to join in.”

True fear and panic filled his eyes.

“My magic is fine,” she reminded him gently.

She heard the dakii racing through the snow now, heard the ping of archers releasing their arrows.

Iryana held her arm out, gaze still locked onto Pyetar and formed her bow. The magic inside her offered itself willingly, nothing more than an almost forgotten, gentle tug. She didn’t even flinch.

Pyetar’s eyes reflected the stormy purple of her bow, but he swallowed nervously. “I know but—”

She stepped closer to him. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, had to carry me through the mountains. I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. Worrying that I’d stop breathing with every step. But you got me to Voordiza, you saved me. And now I’m stronger than ever. I need you to believe in me.”

Finally, his shoulders dropped and the tension in his neck vanished. His arms wrapped around her and he squeezed her tight. For a moment, she was so happy—so relieved—that she let him. Then reality sank back in.

He pulled away when she pushed on his shoulders, face shuttering as he took a large step back. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,” she looked around, but everyone seemed too focused on the oncoming attack to have noticed. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you.”

Iryana swallowed. “I—I’m going to help.”

He nodded, letting her back away.

She looked at the dark trees and shadowed snow. The dakii with their snarling mouths full of black teeth were just colliding with the first line of soldiers.

Iryana joined the archers standing beside her uncle and drew her bow.

When Iryana finally slipped back into her room to go to sleep, she found her sisters still awake. And fighting.

“Why do you have this!” Misha snapped, holding a large, ornate brooch.

“It’s mine now!” Hadima tried to grab it out of Misha’s hands.

“But why did you keep it!”