For what felt an eternity, she stood staring at the entrance to the tent, her guts in knots and head spinning with emotion.
And then she moved.
Heading out into the rain, Teriana stepped through the guards who formed a perimeter around the tent, striding toward the camp gates. Servius was there talking to another legionnaire, but just before she reached them, he exited the camp. The other man turned, and her stomach fell when she recognized Felix.
“I’m going for a walk,” she said to him. “Let me through.”
“No.” He crossed his arms. “You will not leave the confines of this camp. Is that understood?”
“You don’t have any right to give me orders, Felix. Move.”
“No.” He closed the distance between them, leaning down. “This is a legion camp, Teriana, not a harbor alehouse. You don’t just get to come and go as you please.”
She ground her teeth. “I only want to go down to the water.” Though to do what, she didn’t know. If she summoned Magnius, it would mean pulling him away from whatever he was doing with Bait, for the guardian’s telepathy was limited by distance.
“No. I’m not waking men for an escort so you can go for a midnight swim.”
“Then I’ll go by myself.”
“No.”
Everyone was watching them. Waiting to see what she would do. What he would do. And despite feeling more a prisoner than she had in a long time, caution told her this was not the hill to die on. “Fine.”
Turning on her heel, she headed along the interior of the wall, circling the camp. To sit in the command tent would mean stewing, so she walked. And walked. The deluge of rain soaked her to the bone, the cool wind making her shiver, but she ignored her physical discomfort in favor of rehashing every choice she’d made since she’d shaken Marcus’s hand and agreed to take him and the legions across the Endless Seas. Every single one of them felt like a mistake.
Even trying to warn the nations of the West had blown up in her face, the Katamarcan queen having betrayed her confidence, probably to curry favor with the Cel in the hopes of averting an invasion. All that had accomplished was destroying what little trust Marcus had in her, and the note she’d sent the Gamdeshians had yielded better results only in that it had yielded nothing at all.
Feeling the press of her bladder, she veered away from the wall, heading toward the little privy shack allocated for her privacy. The deluge of rain had extinguished the torches, the only light from the singular storm lantern that hung from a post. Probably to keep anyone from accidentally falling into the ditch full of water and waste.
Peering into the darkness, she reached for the privy door. Then a gust of wind hit her in the back, and what felt like feathers brushed her arms. A second later, a hand clamped over her mouth, pushing her inside the privy.
“Easy, Teriana,” a female voice whispered in Gamdeshian. “Kaira sent me.”
Kaira. The name of the Princess made her heart leap, because Kaira was not only the Sultan’s daughter and commander of the mighty army of Gamdesh, she was marked by Tremon.
Teriana nodded, ceasing to struggle, and the woman let go of her. In the darkness, it was impossible to see her face, but as Teriana turned, her hand grazed a bare thigh. The nudity, the brush of feathers, and the arrival from the sky told her all that she needed to know.
This woman was marked by Lern.
“You’re a difficult girl to get alone,” the woman said. “These Empire soldiers have watchful eyes. They often look up.”
What all had she seen from above? The thought made Teriana’s stomach twist. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to try to reach me.”
“You sent word that you needed help. And to warn us.”
“For what good it did.” Teriana shook her head. “Although at least Kaira didn’t betray me like Queen Erdene.”
The shifter huffed out a breath. “Gamdesh is not Katamarca. And your words did more good than you know. Though your people knew the threat the Empire posed, not a one whispered so much as a word until Kaira approached them with a scrap of paper with your name on it. And since then, the other triumvirs have revealed all that they know of the Empire, its armies, and the young man they sent in search of conquest. Thanks to you, Gamdesh knows the magnitude of this threat, and we will act accordingly.”
Fear prickled down Teriana’s spine. “Will you attack?” For as good as the legions were, the Gamdeshian army was equally so, and they had the numbers.
“Perhaps,” the woman answered. “I left Revat some weeks ago, but as I took to the wind, our fleet was sailing north to aid in the evacuation of Mudaire. On its return, we may turn our eyes to Arinoquia.”
“What’s happened in Mudaire?”
“Armies from Derin marching under the Corrupter’s banner invaded Mudamora, and its capital was under siege. How they have fared since, I have not heard.”
Horror filled Teriana, along with the vision Magnius had given her before the crossing of the Twelve’s banners being driven into the mud by the boots of soldiers carrying the flaming circle of the Seventh god. The Six have mercy, but it had already come to pass.
“We’ve no time to discuss Mudamora’s plight,” the shifter said. “Know only that we heard your call and we are watching. And we will not abandon you, Teriana of the Quincense.”
“But what should I do?” she demanded, not wanting the woman to go. Not wanting to lose this connection with the world, though it filled her with equal parts hope and terror.
“Watch. Learn. And trust you’ll know when the moment to make your move is right, for the best way to win a war is to know your enemy.”
“But—”
“You must go. If you linger, they’ll notice.”
“What’s your name?” she asked, desperate for a few moments more with her. For this
