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“You’re a guardian,” Iviry exclaimed. “As soon as I saw you, I felt it, but I couldn’t believe… Not here… But the magic in your veins screams for you to free it.”

“A guardian,” Merrick mused. “I didn’t know we had those in this realm.”

“We don’t.” Thissian shook his head, his dark ocean eyes sharp as he stopped before Soria. “Do you know what you are?”

She glared up at the raven-haired Fae, and once again, Loche felt something strange from her. As if this small woman truly was more than met the eye.

“Of course I do.” Soria dragged a hand through her short hair, her eyes challenging as they swept across each person in the group. “My sister and I have always known.”

“Have known what?” Lessia joined them, and Loche was secretly glad he wasn’t the only one who appeared utterly confused as he stared between the Fae and whatever Soria was. “What’s going on?”

“You have a guardian in your midst,” Iviry responded, and if Loche hadn’t known better, he might have thought something had happened between the two of them because Iviry’s tone had a slight frost to it, and there was a mirroring hint lining Lessia’s usually warm eyes.

“And what’s a guardian?” A crease twisted the skin between her brows as Lessia looked from Soria to the others.

“You might know us better as witches.” Soria’s smile took an apologetic form. “We call ourselves guardians, as we’re meant to keep the balance of magic in worlds where that balance is needed not to give one kind of creature too much power.”

“Witches…” Lessia seemed to taste the word, each letter rolling slowly off her tongue. “But we don’t have witches in Havlands? I read all about your kind when I was younger. My… my father used to tease me that I’d become obsessed… but being able to cast spells… I found it so fascinating.”

“Well, you’ve had me and Pellie here for a few years.” Soria winced when Lessia’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lessia met Loche’s eyes as she chewed on her lip, and he could tell she wasn’t sure whether she should be worried about the sisters’ secret.

Merrick couldn’t, either, apparently, as he stepped closer to her, making sure she wasn’t standing alone as she stared out across the group.

“I…” For a moment Soria’s eyes rose to the cliff where her sister should be standing, then came back to Lessia’s. “We were sold to someone in Havlands when we were very young—as a secret weapon this person could wield should they need to. Butthen you noticed us that day… noticed the sadness and fear the person pretending to be our mother instilled in us, and you didn’t just walk away. Yousawus, Lessia. And then you did something about it.”

Soria shook her head, her smile returning. “We knew you were special then, and we could see you needed help, so we stayed… perhaps too long, but when we began to find out other things about you, we were in too deep, and we knew we needed to see this through.”

Lessia appeared lost for words, her hand slipping into Merrick’s as a million thoughts raced across her face.

“Can you help us with protection today?” Iviry broke in. “I… I traveled to a realm far away from here once, and the witches there could cast protection spells that would ward off enemies. They had me walk in circles for an entire month before they deemed me a nonthreat.”

A whisper of hope brushed Loche’s skin—hope that he’d thought he’d quelled—until Soria shook her head. “Our magic doesn’t work here. You already sensed it.”

“Iviry can read others’ magic,” Merrick whispered to Lessia, but Loche realized he did it loudly enough so he also could hear the information. “She’ll be able to tell Thissian who to drain first.”

Loche couldn’t stop himself from looking at Iviry then, and when she found his eyes, something in his gut turned, but not in a bad way, and he didn’t immediately look away this time.

That was when the drums started.

The group fell silent as the loud rumbling rushed across the sea, followed by the harsh sounds of trumpets and war cries—many human but some entirely animal.

Loche stood frozen as ship after ship appeared on the horizon, the sun’s orange light illuminating them from behind, making them seem larger than he knew they really were.

Lessia moved swiftly beside him, and the entire group looked on as she waved the wyvern away, telling her to join the hundreds who’d begun popping up out of the sea, their colorful scales shining against the dark water and forming a rainbow barrier to his nation lying behind them.

When the beast followed Lessia’s orders, which in the end were more like begging, the group faced forward, and moving nearly as one, they approached his soldiers in the bow, backs straight and chins raised high as they waited for the ships sailing straight for them.

Voices from his people joined the eerie drums and noises, and he couldn’t let himself look directly but he knew people were embracing, saying goodbye and good luck, and he could barely stand it when Lessia tilted her blanched face to Merrick, who’d taken the spot beside Loche, and whispered, “I’m scared.”

Loche’s hands formed tight fists, his eyes going unseeing as Merrick pressed his forehead against that of the girl with the golden hair and eyes and whispered back, “So am I.”

The Fae’s words made fear drive its harsh claws into Loche’s chest, and for the first time, he let himself feel it.

He was scared too.

So fucking scared.