Kael and Seralyne stood before her. Waiting. The firelight from below painted their faces in shades of orange and shadow, and the screaming rose through the stone like a tide, and somewhere in the lower courtyard Halvir was smiling his thin bastard smile and thinking he'd won.
He thinks this is a coup. He thinks he opened the gates and let the wolves in and the women will scream and the fortress will fall and he'll sit the mountain throne by morning.
He doesn't understand what he's done.
He's locked himself inside with us.
"Seralyne," Elyra said. Her voice didn't shake. Didn't waver. It came out level and clear and colder than anything she'd ever heard leave her own mouth.
Seralyne straightened. "Here."
"How many Free Riders in the fortress right now?"
"Fifty-three able. Another twelve walking wounded who can still hold a blade."
"Pull them all to the middle wall. Every single one. Seal the gallery corridor and the servants' passages. Nobody gets through to the royal wing."
