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“What’s the plan?” Pyetar asked her quietly, examining the scene before them.
She calculated, gauging the distance between Lidishta and Tenar. “What if we—Vani, no!”
Vaneshta clearly wasn’t waiting for a plan, storming out from between the trees.
“Gods fucking dammit,” Iryana seethed, chasing after her. Mezhimar wasn’t in position yet.
Tenar jerked when he heard Vaneshta coming, kicking off her snowshoes as she hit the dirt. He grabbed the half-lucid prisoner closest to him and hauled her against his chest like a human shield, his knife against her throat.
“I was wondering if you’d figure it out,” Tenar called to Vaneshta, sounding surprisingly calm.
The metal-badger watched them but didn’t seem like it was going to intervene yet. Iryana slid her own snowshoes off her boots.
When Lidishta saw them coming out of the trees, her eyes fluttered shut in relief.
“Are you hurt?” Vaneshta shouted, spear forming in violent purples in her hand.
Iryana didn’t reach for her forgings—she had promised she would avoid it if she could, and instead half-drew her wooden bow in case an opportunity arose to shoot. She wouldn’t risk hitting the other prisoner, who was blinking and looking around wildly in confusion.
Sparing a moment, she glanced behind her to confirm Misha and Hadima were still behind the trees. She stared right at her youngest sister, inclining her head slightly. Misha’s eyes widened, and she nodded, slipping out of sight.
By the time Iryana turned back, the others had their forgings ready for the moment things turned.
“I’m bored out of my mind!” Lidishta whined. “He’s terrible company.”
Vaneshta wasn’t calmed by Lidishta’s attitude in the slightest, just turned back to Tenar. “For every scrape on her, I will carve an equal into your bones,” she growled.
Most soldiers in the 18th would cower if Vaneshta turned such violent intentions their way, knowing for a fact that she would follow through based on her reputation alone. Yet Tenar didn’t seem to care.
“Stay back,” he ordered, brows raised self-righteously, drawing the knife even closer.
Worried Vaneshta would charge him anyway, Iryana stepped closer, bow still half-drawn.
“If you give us Lidishta and the woman you’re holding, unharmed, I’ll let you live,” she called out. Iryana doubted he’d listen.
“There is nothing you can offer me that I want,” he answered simply. “Our lives will mean nothing soon.”
Iryana was only a dozen steps away from the pit now. She risked a step closer, peering into the depths to see the roiling mass of dark purple-red magic. Her stomach soured.
She had vastly underestimated how far along Tenar was.
“How could you betray the 18th like this?” Pyetar demanded, having slowly worked his way up to their side. “I trusted you.”
“Don’t take it personally.” Tenar chuckled, holding the woman tighter as she struggled. “It was just something to pass the time.”
“Did you work for my brother?”
Tenar scoffed. “Karvek was obsessed with her. He lacked vision. All his power, all his soldiers… it was always worth nothing.”
“You’re with the Steelsworn then?” Iryana called out. “I’ve seen your metal forging. You aren’t like them.”
Vaneshta wasn’t going to wait much longer, but Iryana needed to stall as much as she could.
“Not quite. But the creature they worship, the nemak? It will be quite useful for Noshtiz.”
So that’s where his loyalties lay. Iryana couldn’t help a sneer.
Tenar turned toward the metal-badger. “Kill them,” he ordered.
