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Earsplitting shrieks sounded from every direction, the ground shaking.

“Looks like that worked,” Fern said, taking a ready stance.

“Sisters be with all of you.” Araxis leapt into the air. “Whenever you’re ready, Lunara.”

Their plan was simple in theory. The wall they formed was to split in half lengthwise, working away from each other towards the chasms on its eastern and western borders—a full sweep to clear as many Forgotten and dreadbeasts as they could at once.

Everyone had been instructed not to kill to the best of their ability. To preserve the potential lives within so Lunara might find a way to save them later.

The rest would be up to Brand when he reached the Ghostbor, and then her, if all went well.

Whenever the fuck that will be.

Could be weeks. It was impossible to tell.

The terror of it was that she and Araxis were tasked with a job that would keep them away from the others at potentially long intervals during the day. Which meant splitting up their group, at Lyriat’s behest.

Brand turned her in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers. “Are you sure you have enough?”

“You filled dozens of flasks over the last few days.” Every blood gift had been bottled and offered with a searing kiss, Brand extracting her promises to use them. “Besides, if it comes to it, I’ll have the others with me. I’ll be fine.”

She knew why he was worried. The irony of all ironies was that the healing tent was the one area designated as kill on sight, which Lunara was overseeing. Compassion was all well and good, and saving the souls being held captive within the monsters was her ultimate aim, but not at the expense of the healers or the injured under their care. Any that dared to attack the tent’s peace would die.

And he would be halfway across the realm while they fought.

“I’m begging you, little moon—please be careful, so you can make it back to me.”

“Speak for yourself, Demon.” She ran her fingers over the lines at the corner of his eyes, down into his beard. “I’ll wrench you out of the Veil screaming if you dare to go without me.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, misted to where Fern, Hedda, Amal, Vann, and Sorcha had gathered off to the side, and pulled them into the ether without making the mistake of giving it another thought.

The sounds of battle were already roaring in the distance when they materialized in the massive healing tent—still blessedly free of injured creatures. Sorcha gave her shoulder a nudge, the argent wolf bounding from the tent a second later.

“Right.” Luna drew in a deep, cleansing breath to find her focus. “Who’s staying with me to help, and who’s going outside?”

Vann inclined his head. “Fern and I must remain relatively close to one another for her to use her powers, which are not conducive to a healing environment. We’d be of better use outside.”

“Besides,” Fern said, tossing her hair, “I wasn’t made for gentle shit. I’d rather murder something than fix it.”

“What she said,” Hedda rumbled from above, her rage and size making its own sort of point. “I will be the last line before the shield, as close to you as I can be.”

“Meanwhile, I am far more multifaceted than the rest of them and it is best that I stay hidden.” Amal collapsed her spear and secured it to her back. “I can help with the care and ensure everyone in this place lives through it. I will stay at your side, Moonweaver.”

Even outside of her realm, flames danced beneath the crimson in Amal’s dark eyes, her utter confidence easing some of Lunara’s nerves.

The ajma had been more than displeased when Amun declared their separation, but there was no denying that keeping them apart was the wiser choice, since they were far more likely to be recognized if seen together and absolutely not supposed to be here.

Maybe the original Elder Council derived some of their most irritating and self-serving rules from those of the Imperials.

Probably.

A cascade of screeches and clicks sounded, closer than the last.

“Let’s get to it, then,” Lunara said, attaching a thread of power to each of them, their heartbeats reaching her a second later. “Nothing makes it through except Araxis and those he delivers.”

With a unified nod, the three of them left on the same path Sorcha took through the wide-open flaps on one end, the life in their veins thumping evenly in her ears—a comfort.