Rakiz slowly shakes his head. “We changed our mind.”
“You have one last chance before we burn your camp to the ground. Surrender and we will let your females and younglings live.”
Rakiz laughs from where he’s sitting on his mishua, sword in his hand. “As my queen would say…bring it.”
The Dokhall waves his hand but stays where he is as his army moves as one, marching toward us, aiming for our front lines.
I grind my teeth. We hoped whoever was leading the Dokhalls would be caught in the first trap, causing chaos as they scrambled to replace him.
But we’re not that lucky.
I expected Arix to be here by now. Thought he would attack before the Dokhalls arrived, thinning their numbers for us.
Dread settles deep in my gut, but I push it away. I left Arix with our most loyal guards—a team I trained myself. He knows the Dokhalls are waiting. He’ll survive.
But will he survive long enough to join the battle?
Dexar nods at both of us, and our army begins to advance toward the Dokhalls. If the Dokhalls were paying attention, they would notice our warriors are moving much, much slower than their own.
A few seconds later, they see why.
The ground crumples beneath their front lines, giving no warning. Apparently, Charlie used this tactic on a much smaller scale during the last battle, and ever since, Rakiz’s warriors have been digging a huge trench for this very purpose.
Howls of pain reach my ears as hundreds of Dokhalls, Voildi, and Zintas are swallowed as the ground beneath them disappears. Savage pleasure fills my chest as the Braxians roar a challenge, and the Dokhalls’ army is forced to split in two to avoid the deep trench now gaping wide in front of them.
As planned, our army also splits—Dexar and I moving to the left, while Rakiz and Vrex go to the right.
Behind us and to our left, arrows begin to fly, the tips dipped in poison as the human females aim for the Dokhalls. The Dokhalls scream, enraged and dying, but those that make it through the trees attack with fury.
I swing the sword in my hand and lunge forward to meet them.
Sarissa
Terex reaches the tashiv before me, slamming the door open and dropping to his knees next to Ellie.
His face is white as he glances at Nevada. “Can we evacuate?”
Moni walks out of the bathing room. “No,” she says, her expression tranquil. “I’ve drawn you a bath, child,” she tells Ellie, who gives her a weak smile before panting through another contraction.
“A bath?”
Moni nods. “It’ll help with the pain, and it should help her feel calmer.”
“Are you sure we can’t evacuate?”
“Positive,” Nevada says, and this time, I see a glimpse of terror in her eyes. We both thought we’d be positioned a few hundred yards in front of the camp gates by now, ready for any Dokhalls who broke through the Braxian defenses.
If Nevada’s not going to make it, it’s even more important that I get where I need to be.
“Okay,” I say. I reach into my pocket and hand Nevada the two letters I’ve written.
“I need you to give these to Vivian. If I don’t see you…”
She nods. “Get on that ship. We’ll be okay.”
I shake my head at that. “If the Dokhalls get close to camp, I’m not leaving. I’ll be manning our catapult.”
She opens her mouth and closes it with a nod, then reaches out her arms and wraps me in a hug. “Thank you. Go kick some ass.”
“You know it.”
Ellie is on her feet, moving toward the bathing room between contractions.
I give her a quick hug. “You’re going to do great.”
Tears roll down her cheeks. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Me too. You’ve got this, mama.”
I hug Moni, and then I’m out the door, sprinting toward the catapult I designed with Zoey and Nevada.
The Dokhalls aren’t getting into this camp. They’re not getting their hands on the women and babies in that tashiv.
Not as long as I’m still breathing.
I haul ass through the camp until I reach the line of catapults. Beth is here, her face pale, her lips a thin line.
“Nevada?”
“No can do. Ellie is in labor.”
Beth’s mouth drops open. “Just once, I’d love for someone to go into labor on a boring, quiet afternoon.”
“Preach.”
We begin loading up our catapult, and I glance around me, finding the other women doing the same—all of us careful not to touch the pods with our hands.
The pods have been dipped in poison and then dried so they’ll still explode. When they do, anyone hit by the shrapnel will get a dose of poison.
That means these catapults are our last resort, and they’re also the last step in our plan. If the Dokhalls still have the numbers to be a threat, the Braxians will fall back and get the hell out of the way so we can aim our deadly bombs at the approaching army.
Makayla hands me a pod, nodding a greeting. Her green eyes burn bright with determination, and she has a canvas bag slung over one shoulder as she works. Clearly, she’s excited to get on the ship.
“Are we ready?” I ask, and Beth nods at me.
“We need to know how far the Dokhalls are.”
Nerves flutter in my chest, but I ignore them. “I’ll go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.”
Women begin ducking behind their catapults, getting into position. Blaire gives me a nod, her face cold and determined.
Now all we need is to know how far away the Dokhalls are. Ideally, they wouldn’t break through the trees at all, but we need to be prepared if they do.
I sneak back through the trees until the sounds of battle are so close that it feels like it’s on top of me. I shuffle up a tree and peer through the leaves.
Dragix soars above me, Charlie on his back. She’s covered from head to toe in dragon scales, including a helmet. That helmet led to a glorious fight, which entertained most of
