For the first time since her grandfather had died, Liv woke up pressed tight against another person.

By the time she’d got back into camp after speaking with Wren, Liv had found Rosamund already asleep in the tent they’d been loaned. There had been two cots set up, one to either side, but with a bit of wiggling, she’d managed to squeeze in with Rose under a linen sheet.

The cots most certainly weren’t built for two people, and there was a pain in her neck that she’d be feeling all day long, but for just a moment, Liv ignored that. Perhaps it was because she’d had to share a bed with her mother as a little girl, but there was nothing that made Liv feel so warm and safe as waking up with someone who cared about her wrapped around her body. Even having a purring cat in the bed wasn’t quite the same.

“I didn’t think anything could be quite as bad as sleeping on those old benches in the mountain rift,” Rose mumbled into the back of Liv’s neck. “But stuffing two people onto one of these cots might do it.”

“I’m sorry,” Liv apologized, immediately realizing that she was an idiot. “You were already asleep when I came back – I shouldn’t have assumed –”

“It’s alright,” Rose said, tightening her arms around Liv’s middle. “I don’t mind. But maybe next time there should be an actual bed, with a mattress.”

Liv couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t want to leave Wren all alone while she was upset. But we should get up,” she decided. “She’ll be taking the other two bats off this morning, and we’re due for a war council, if my father manages to get everyone in one place.”

There wasn’t much Liv could do to make herself presentable, other than get her bodice back on and have Rose strap her back into her armor. She was certain her hair must be a rat's nest, but she hadn’t even brought a mirror in her rush to get to the encampment, and Liv found herself missing Thora. When she’d first been confronted with a lady’s maid, seven years ago in Freeport, it had been a profoundly uncomfortable experience – but somewhere along the way, she’d gotten used to it.

As she watched Rosamund belt on her sword, Liv’s mind slipped off into half a dozen different directions. They needed to find out what Ractia was building, of course – but also to secure as many of the rifts in Elden lands as they could. As long as the goddess could trigger eruptions whenever she wanted, she could cause them no end of trouble and keep the Eld from concentrating their warriors in Varuna. Liv hadn’t ever been trained as a tactician, but that much was obvious even to her. And if she was going to descend into the Tomb of Celris – or get ready to fight a goddess - she wanted her friends armored.

“Liv?” Rose asked.

“Sorry.” Liv shook herself. “I was just thinking – there’s so much we need to do, and I was trying to figure out what order it needed to happen in.”

They ducked out through the canvas flap of the tent, and Liv felt a blush rising on her cheeks. Of course, no one in the army would know that she and Rose had shared one cot, rather than used two – and it wasn’t as if they’d done anything. But the conversation they’d had up in the ring seemed to layer every action with a deeper meaning, now.

Dozens of cookfires sent thin trails of smoke up into the morning sky, and Liv found her father, as well as Airis ka Reimis, Wren, and the two defectors seated around the nearest one. She was surprised to find fresh bread, some sort of porridge, and fruit waiting.

“We’re not really an outpost here,” Airis explained, motioning for Liv and Rose to help themselves. “The waystone connects us to Al’Fenthia, which is the breadbasket of the north – not to mention our trading hub. No need to live off trail rations when we can bring food through from home. The fruits are local, though, thanks to your friend Wren.”

“I’m not even sure what all of these are,” Liv admitted. Once she’d filled her bowl and torn a hunk of bread off the loaf, she settled onto one of the logs drawn up around the fire and tried a taste. She was pleasantly surprised at how sweet a mouthful was.

“There’s no good Lucanian words for most of these,” Wren explained. “Those yellow-ish slices are huaya. You have to slice them up, because there’s a hard pit in the middle, and you don’t want to bite into it by accident. The one with the small black seeds is pitaya.”

“They’re good,” Liv said, and was pleased to see that Wren smiled.

“We’ll be heading back through the waystone to Al’Fenthia to meet with Inkeris, the rest of your friends, and the council of elders,” Liv’s father explained. “The council hall in the city is more secure than our encampment here, and I don’t want to risk the enemy decapitating all of our leadership in a single strike.”

“Who’s going to hold command here while you’re gone?” Liv asked.

“My son will come through to this side of the waystone,” Airis answered. “He’s done well over the past few months. I never would have expected it, but somehow this war has actually been good for the boy.”

“And we’re heading off,” Wren said, putting aside her bowl and rising. “I just didn’t want to leave while you two were asleep.” To either side of her, Wildcat and Little Crow stood up. “We spent the morning marking up a map for your father, showing which rifts Ractia used on her way to the mountains, and where she’s defending waystones, so far as they know.” She nodded to the other two hunters.

Liv set her own bowl on the log next to her and stood up. Before Wren could stop her, she took two steps over and wrapped the larger woman up in an embrace. “I’m going to miss you,” she said. “Hurry back as soon as you can.”

“Fast as I can fly,” Wren told her. After a moment’s hesitation, she hugged Liv back, then they released each other. “You going to keep her from getting herself killed until I get back?” the huntress asked Rosamund.

“She’ll still be here when you catch up with us,” Rose promised.

With that, Wren dissolved into blood and then reformed into a bat. Alongside her, the other two hunters flapped their wings, rising up into the morning until they’d climbed nearly out of sight before heading off to the east, following the path of the river.

☙

Liv, Rose, Valtteri and Airis waited until after Vari had come through the waystone and taken command of the warriors in the encampment before they made the return journey. All four of them touched their hands to the white stone around the sigil that marked Al’Fenthia, sharing the burden of the cost among themselves. Set within the shoal of the rift, the Varunan waystone was constantly absorbing mana, but it was also getting so much use that it seemed to never quite build up a full charge.

It must have been nearly noon in Al’Fenthia, Liv saw, once they’d made the transition and she’d gotten over the disorientation of the journey. The winter sun was high in the sky, and a light snowfall had coated the waystone in a fine powder. Her breath steamed from her lips, and only the enchantments of her armor kept her from shivering at the transition from hot jungle to mountain cold.

Keri was waiting for them, seated atop a northern horse. He looked a good deal better than when Liv had left him, sweating with fever in his bed, and he was accompanied by two armed and armored soldiers that had the manner of mother hens, and who held the reins of another four horses between them – including Steria. Finally, Arjun was seated on a borrowed horse, which gave Liv a fair bit of confidence in Keri’s recovery - her friend would never have let a patient out of bed before they were ready.

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“You’re not looking so good,” Valtteri commented, swinging up into the saddle of one horse and examining Keri with a frown.

“Better than when I saw him last,” Liv said. She set her boot into the stirrup and pulled herself up onto Steria’s back.

“I spent just about all of yesterday cycling mana to heal,” Keri admitted, waiting while Rose and Airis mounted the horses that had been brought for them. “Though I’m told I have you to thank for getting me through the night, Liv. I can’t say I remember much of it clearly – just cool hands on my head when things were bad.”

“All I did was drag you in and keep your temperature down,” Liv said. “I would have stayed longer if elder Aira didn’t need us to help her with the rift.”

“She’s waiting with Sidonie,” Arjun said. “You’re going to have to scrape her off with a knife when it’s time to leave, Liv.”

They rode out through the trading quarter, and Liv was surprised to see that most of the Lucanian soldiers who had been encamped outside their embassy had departed, since she came through last. “What happened there?” she asked.

“I’m told they left early this morning,” Keri said, maneuvering his horse over to ride beside Liv as they made their way to the gates which separated the foreign district from the rest of the city.

“I don’t like that,” she admitted, turning it over in her head. It wouldn’t take a whole crew of soldiers to bring word back to Freeport that she’d been sighted in Al’Fenthia – that was a job for a single messenger. Liv hoped they weren’t going to cause trouble for Whitehill.

“I wrote you a letter, you know,” Keri admitted, as they passed through the gates. The Elden warriors closed and barred the passage behind them once the entire party had crossed through. “The night before we attacked the rift in Varuna.”

“Me?” Liv said, blinking in surprise.

Keri nodded. “Well, I wrote two. One for my kwenim and our son – I expect that’s made its way to Mountain Home by now. I wanted to let you know that your father was safe, and that we’d made contact with your bodyguard’s tribe. Of course, I thought you were still in Coral Bay when I sent it through the waystone. Trinity knows where it’s ended up.”

“Maybe it’ll catch up with me someday,” Liv said, with a grin. “It’s probably sitting in Coral Bay on Archmage Loredan’s desk, or been sent on to Whitehill. If Benedict hasn’t gotten his hands on it,” she grumbled, annoyed at the thought.

When they reached the council hall, Liv’s father took a moment to address her friends once he’d dismounted. “Very few humans have ever been invited to address a council of elders,” he exclaimed. “Archmagus Loredan is one of them, and whoever holds the post of ambassador from Lucania over the years. Understand that anyone who is not part of the council is only permitted within the hall by invitation. This is not like Lucania, where each territory is ruled by a baron. Here, the word of the elders is law.”

Liv glanced between Rose and Arjun, and thought that both of them looked a bit nervous. Still, they followed her and the other Eld through the carved doors into the chamber without hesitation, where they found Sidonie and Saana Tär Taavetti waiting. The same elders who Liv had spoken to the other night once again sat in their seats on the raised dias, with Aira Tär Keria in the center. To Liv’s surprise, her grandmother was seated with the local elders.

At their entrance, Eila Tär Väinis rose and descended from the dais. She came quickly across the floor to meet Liv and her father, and embraced them each in turn.

“Mother,” Valtteri, greeted her, once they’d separated. “It’s been far too long. How have the lands of House Däivi treated you?”

“It was good to return to old, familiar places,” Liv’s grandmother admitted, then wrapped Liv in her arms. “And you, Livara? We all hoped you would be at Coral Bay through the end of this war, but I see we were building castles from clouds.”

“I’m still here,” Liv said. “I didn’t expect to see you.” She closed her eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the closeness of her family.

“I brought another hundred warriors with me,” Eila said. She released Liv, smoothed her robes, and stepped back toward the dais. “We will speak more after the council has concluded. It would be rude of me to make the elders of House Ceria wait, when they’ve welcomed me so warmly.”

Aira snorted from her place at the center of the dias. “Nonsense. We’re honored to have you here, and grateful for your reinforcements. We’ll all catch up over a meal this evening, Eila. Now. If your son and my grandson would give a report, we can proceed.”

Valtteri exchanged a glance with Airis ka Reimis, and then began. “Our foothold in Varuna is secure. We experienced nothing more than probing assaults during the eruption here. I believe that Ractia’s forces were waiting for an opening that never came. They hoped we would be forced to pull troops from Varuna in order to deal with the eruption here.”

“Holding the gap was far more costly,” Airis ka Reimis admitted. “We lost over a hundred warriors for certain, with three times that wounded, spread more or less evenly amongst the six houses that sent troops. It would have been worse without young Arjun, here – healers with two words of power are a rare thing.”

Liv saw that Arjun frowned at that, and she leaned in to explain to him in a low voice. “Most Houses teach a single word to begin with,” she said. “And then eventually, when someone has mastered that word, they might learn a second or a third. I’m honestly not sure whether we have any house who practices a healing word as their first. I’m certain my father would know.”

“ – map of rift and waystone locations, courtesy of the two Red Shield members that Wren Wind Dancer and my daughter turned from Ractia’s service,” Liv’s father was explaining. “We’ve already begun shifting healthy troops through the waystone to Varuna. Even leaving wounded to recover here, I should have well over a thousand warriors at the bridge to work with. We can begin pushing from rift to rift on our way to the mountains.”

“I actually have information that may change your plans,” Sidonie broke in, looking a bit nervous. Liv could tell because she was shifting from foot to foot and adjusting her glasses over and over again. “Master Grenfell used the dreamstone to contact me last night.”

“Dreamstone?” One of the men on the council leaned forward, brow furrowed. “What is that?”

“A new enchantment developed by my first teacher,” Liv explained, stepping forward. “Kazimir Grenfell, in Whitehill. He used Cei to enchant a mana stone, broken in half. The two people who each hold a half of the stone can share a dream to communicate. What did he tell you, Sidonie?”

“He has word from Freeport,” the other journeyman explained. “And from Courland. King Benedict has begun moving his new army from the capital to winter in Duke Falkenrath’s lands. Grenfell says that Julianne thinks they’re going to try to invade Whitehill when flood season clears the passes.”

The elder with no hair – Severi, Liv recalled – scowled. “Lucania has stopped their ears and turned their eyes at every warning we have given them,” he argued. “Seven years it’s been since Inkeris went to warn them of the goddess rising in the west, and they’ve done nothing to help us. Let them kill each other.”

“Some of us are standing here right now,” Rose butted in. Liv saw that her fists were clenched, and could tell she was getting angry. And Rosamund getting angry often led to someone getting punched.

“Lucania’s divided,” Liv said, putting one hand on Rose’s arm in an attempt to calm her. “Since the old king died, a fight’s been coming between his son, Benedict, and his daughter, Julianne. Benedict will never help us against Ractia, but Julianne would. If we help Whitehill survive now, we’ll gain allies against Ractia later.”

“Duchess Julianne and her husband - Baron Henry, at the time – treated us fairly when I went to bargain with them for food,” Airis ka Reimis said. “I would vouch for their character.”

“As would I,” Valtteri said. “I lived there for six years after I learned of my daughter’s existence. The valley is defensible, and there’s a waystone at Bald Peak we can use to move warriors in and out. They also have a great supply of mana stone that comes out of their mines. If they are breaking with Lucania, they will need a new buyer for that stone. We can use that to bolster our forces before we face Ractia.”

Elder Aira turned to face Liv’s grandmother. “What do you see, Eila?” she asked.

“You know our word of power was broken when the Lady of Time was killed,” Eila temporized. “It is no longer given to us to simply trace the lines of probability into the future.”

“Still, you came here for a reason,” Severi countered. “And not simply to see your son and granddaughter again. Give us your counsel.”

Eila was silent for a moment, and then she nodded. “My counsel is this,” she said. “We did not defeat the Vædim alone. We fought together with allies. There is strength in friendship, in bonds of trust and faith forged in battle. We cannot now see what will be needed in the final conflict, whenever and wherever it may come. Who is to say that someone living in Whitehill right now may not be the key to felling the goddess, in the end? Do not be so quick to throw them all away, only because they are not Eld.”