from the way that sounds and re echoed from it.
They reached a wall that cut across part of the chamber, and stopped behind it.
'Wait here,' Silverdun whispered to Sela and Faella. 'Ironfoot, you're with me.'
'I want to come with you,' hissed Faella. 'We both do.'
'Ironfoot and I can move in total silence,' said Silverdun. 'Neither of you can. Wait here.'
Silverdun and Ironfoot continued, making no sound whatsoever. They came closer to the source of the light, and Silverdun now began to notice that there were a number of other massive objects in the room. The wall they'd left Sela and Faella behind was actually the base of one of them. The droning noise grew as they approached, the light remaining constant.
They reached the edge of the tall obstruction that hid the light. Just as they were about to peer around it, the droning whine stopped, and the room grew impossibly silent. There was a slight rushing sound, and Silverdun felt a breeze on his face. The light began to approach them, its reflection moving along the wall behind it. Silverdun and Ironfoot both drew knives and slid around the corner.
Approaching them was a glowing silver moth, huge and hovering ten feet in the air, flying directly at them. It was the source of the illumination; its body and wings emanated witchlight.
The creature noticed them and flapped its wings, stopping in the air. Now that it was no longer in motion, Silverdun could see it better. It was not a giant moth, but a Fae man, dressed head to toe in bright silver armor, a helmet covering his head entirely. A pair of great wings, composed of silver so thin it was nearly transparent, emerged from the shoulder plates of the armor, easily thirty feet from tip to tip.
The flying man reached up and raised the visor of the helmet. He looked astonished.
His face was that of a Bel Zheret, but his eyes were those of a true Fae.
'Who the hell are you?' he said.
The only perfect battle plan would be the one that acknowledges that no such plan exists.
-CmdrTae Filarete, Observations on Battle
he catapult was finally finished, no thanks to the lieutenant who wouldn't stop breathing down Sergeant Hy-Asher's neck.
'Where do we aim?' he said. 'Into the main force?'
'No, you idiot,' said the lieutenant. 'You'd be killing our forces as well. Aim for the camp on the hill. Take out General Mauritane and the war's as good as won.'
Hy-Asher's men tested the wind and maneuvered the catapult into place. A private wound the roller handle, and the beam came down slowly and was hooked into place. With shaking hands, he placed the Einswrath into the bowl and nodded.
Mauritane was at the front of the line, leading Bear Company toward the gate of Elenth. Once the gate was breached, they could fight their way into the city, and he and the Annwni commanders could rendezvous. The battle, he felt in his bones, was as good as over. All around him men shouted, swinging blades in strong arcs. Clatter and shriek. Hoofbeat and shout.
A new sun erupted behind him, and a moment later a force like the hand of a god threw him from his horse, landing him facedown on the trampled ground. Surprised shouts and screams of pain came from all around him.
Mauritane sat up and looked back toward his camp. A column of flame rose up from the top of the rise at the edge of the valley. Trees hundreds of feet away were on fire. Smoke rose from the flattened grass on the slope. The Seelie camp was gone. If he hadn't rushed into battle, he'd be dead now.
The Einswrath had come. The Shadows had failed. After so much effort, so many turns, it seemed there was no escaping the inevitability of loss.
But at this point, Mauritane didn't care. He stood up, waved his sword in the air, and screamed. 'The Seelie Heart!' he rasped. 'Onward to Elenth!'
Many of his soldiers rose along with him, rallying to the sound of his voice. Not all of them, but perhaps enough.
Across the Unseelie, things began going wrong for Mab. In her rooms atop the new City of Mab, reports went from bad to worse. The Annwni High Council had rebelled against her, slaughtering her governor and proconsul. They'd sent word to their troops to ally with the Seelie, and now they were wreaking havoc across the entire front.
