When the new dawn began stealing in through her window, Minx sat upright, her head heavy and eyes sore. Mau, she thought, it's time. Wake up. The sun is rising. With a grunt, she stood and adjusted her garb. She laced her boots in a hurry, topped off her quiver of arrows and tested her bow. She tucked a pair of daggers into her belt and stepped outside in time to catch one of the returning dragons.
The young dragon, racing up the steps toward Minx, stopped half-way up the tree. “Good, you're up. They're here,” he began, panting. “And... there's a lot of them.”
Kaleb emerged from the treehouse across the way, peering down at his fellow dragon. “What's that? How many are there?”
The scout had trouble replying. He paused a moment, attempting some mental math, but ultimately threw up his hands. “There must be thousands.”
Minx's entire body felt heavy as lead. “T-Thousands?” She cleared her throat. “Do you mean that? Thousands?” She had seen the army with her own eyes at the onset; the Wuff had been numerous, but there had not been thousands in their ranks. “No... that can't be right.”
“Yes... many thousands,” insisted the scout. “I wasn't prepared for something like this.” He looked up to Kaleb, heaving with panic. “When you said there was an army, I imagined, you know... a few hundred Wuffs! But there's more than Wuffs in there, and there's more than a few hundred, too! They're headed for the borders of the Trade Center, just a few miles off. They'll arrive within the hour at their current pace.”
“All right. Let's get ready to meet them, then,” said Kaleb. He was doing his best not to look shaken at this news, to take it in stride, but it was clear from the way he paced about the platform of the treehouse that he, too, had been unprepared for a force such as this.
There are thousands of them, Mau, said Minx, stepping back into her quarters. Thousands! How are we supposed to compete with a force that large? The Fae will supply a hundred, maybe two hundred warriors at the most. We have eight dragons and a Faelyr. I don't see how we can win... The army has grown since Torrent joined up. This must be the army of darkness the visions spoke of. Valry's army hasn't been destroyed, but it's been transformed by Torrent's forces, made stronger.
The Faelyr slunk past her, stepping onto the outer platform. It's a little late to worry about that, isn't it? They're on their way; all we can do is meet them and put up a good fight.
A new presence emerged from down below. Clad in his leather armor and accompanied by his trusted Lyr, was Minx's father. He wore a longsword on his waist, the kind of ceremonial weapon given to the members of the High Council. “Minx! Are you there?” he called from the ground. “They're marching—an army of immense size. They've grown a great deal since they last came. Torrent's doing, no doubt.”
Minx raced out to meet him, rushing down the steps. “Yes, father, I've been told. One of the dragons got a look at the army and let me know. He claims there are thousands...”
“Ah, yes,” replied her father, “I'd say that's accurate. The elders told me that you returned yesterday evening, and that you brought dragons with you. How many will be joining us? Are they on their way now from Talon Range? If they have sent a few hundred, it's possible we'll meet this challenge capably.”
The Fae huntress shook her head weakly. “No, father... I'm sorry. Kaleb and I appealed to the leaders of the Talon Range guard, but they were unable to come to an agreement. We brought seven other dragons with us, volunteers, but we don't have an army.”
Her father looked dazed at this report. “Seven dragons? Seven? Against a force of thousands?” He stroked the plumage of the Lyr perched on his shoulder, a keen-eyed War Eagle, and frowned. “We have, among the Fae, two hundred and fifty warriors. Swordsmen, archers, lancers... The archers have been placed atop the outer walls of the Trade Center. They will attempt to cut down the first wave and clear the way for the lancers to engage subsequent clusters. We intend to hold the Trading Center; the walls are not easily surmountable and the entry gate makes for a natural bottleneck. We have scouts patrolling the surrounding area, but they have not seen any activity elsewhere. The Wuffs are charging straight on, confident that they'll overwhelm us through the front door.”
“I understand.” Kaleb joined Minx and her father on the ground. “We'll shift and rampage through the masses. Perhaps we'll be able to break up their ranks and send them into chaos. This way, it'll be easier for the archers and lancers to pick off the stragglers. Minx, you should ride on my back; you're the best shot we have, and with me clearing the way, you can focus on higher-value targets. Sound good?”
She nodded. “I'll aim for their commanders—Valry and Torrent, in particular. If I can take them down, morale will suffer greatly and their forces will start to fold.”
Minx's father thanked the dragons for their service and set off for the Trading Center to rally the Fae. Before he left, however, Minx raced to meet him, tugging at his arm. “Father... have you heard anything about the captives—about mother?”
“No,” he admitted. “I haven't. If Valry kept her word... I assume the worst. I won't lose hope, but there's a real possibility that they have been executed.”
Minx's heart ached as she stood before her father. She couldn't bear to tell him what she'd learned the day before—couldn't share the content of the mysterious
