Valdar, wiping at his heavy eyes, offered only a meager smile. “I wish I could say they were going well. The walls are coming along—if our enemy will be polite enough to postpone an attack another few days, that is. Unfortunately, I've just received word that our opponent is marshaling his forces. There is a large contingent of enemy warriors headed this way under the charge of a formidable human hunter. He surrounds himself with Zuscha archers and commands his legions with ruthlessness. We sent an entire scouting party to track their movements, and this scout I just spoke to was the only survivor.”
Minx gasped. “The hunter? He... he killed off the scouts?”
Her father nodded sorrowfully. “To hear the survivor tell it, the hunter fired the arrows himself, dispatched them from afar. There had been a pause in the enemy's movements after the quake, but they seem to be recovering rather quickly from that shock. Faster than we are, anyway. I expect they'll be here soon. I've ordered our scouting parties to keep a greater distance from enemy forces, lest we lose all of them.”
“I see... Well, when they arrive, I'll be ready for them.” Minx tried to put on a brave face, but she couldn't pull the wool over her father's eyes. Battle and stress had taken a tremendous toll on her, and no change in tone or posture could hide it.
Kaleb, who'd been standing nearby during Minx's conversation with her father, couldn't help but interject. “Having problems with your scouts? Tell you what, I could fly reconnaissance for you. That hunter is good, but he can't shoot me down when I'm hundreds of feet in the air. Why not let me handle that role?”
Minx's father looked to him with wide eyes. “You?” He considered the notion with a chuckle. “Why, that could be valuable, yes. Having an eye in the sky, so to speak, would limit our risks and allow us more manpower here at the Trading Center.” He stood, appraising Kaleb carefully. “But if we're attacked while you're out, it will be more difficult for us to repel a larger force.”
Kaleb nodded. “I thought about that. I would have to check, but I expect there are more young dragons out here—the common kind. They don't pack as much of a punch as us royals, but if I could rummage up a few, they'd make fine guard dogs, if you get my meaning.” He pointed up at the clear sky, adding, “If I find small contingents of enemy forces, I can blast them from the skies and prevent them from ever meeting up with the main force. It'll require me to do a lot more flying from area to area, and I won't always be available to help with things on the home front, but it's better than sending out more of your scouts and giving the hunter more target practice, wouldn't you say?”
“I'd have to agree,” conceded Valdar. “When the scouts return, I'll pull them from their reconnaissance duty and send you on your first patrol.” He offered Kaleb a sturdy handshake, thanking him for his service, and was then called away by another member of the High Council, who sought to discuss the progress then being made on the walls.
“So, I guess we won't be able to fight side-by-side for now, huh?” offered Minx.
Kaleb smirked. “I'm more useful up there. It's the sad truth. But you and Mau will handle things, I'm sure. The two of you have never disappointed.” He ran a hand through his ebony locks and sniffed the air, gaze narrowing. “I'm curious to see what the enemy is up to—where they're gathering, where Torrent is holed up. I meant to take a crack at him earlier, but he disappeared after you collapsed.”
Thoughts of Torrent sent Minx's pulse hammering. His foul powers, so effortlessly exercised, were the stuff of nightmares. She never thought she'd see the day that Heilo Lake itself would be tainted—brought to ruin—by the work of a single man. Torrent was no ordinary spell-caster, however. If her intuition was correct, he was the reemergence of an age-old villain—the resumption of a knighted role that Fae history sought never to discuss aloud. Torrent could be the Dark Mage. After all this time, it's possible that the great villain has returned...
“Whatever you do, be careful,” she warned. Though she tried to sound calm and collected, there could be no hiding the nervousness in her tone.
Kaleb picked up on it, sparing her a warm smile. “Aw, worried, are you? You don't have to worry about me. I'll be soaring so high up that they'll hardly know I'm there. That is, unless I find a really good opening for a fireball...”
Hours passed, and the dragon shifter busied himself discussing the layout of the Fae territories in depth with a handful of former scouts. Meanwhile, Minx and Mau assisted where they could with the reconstruction efforts, dragging stacks of bricks, mortar and tools to the workmen assiduously laboring at the breaches. She was pleased at the progress; the walls looked nearly mended, and would surely set up to be stronger than those that had stood before—if, of course, the dark army would keep its distance.
This was not to be, however. An hour after the start of Kaleb's first patrol, when his vast red wings had long faded from view and he'd been sent to canvass the eastern plains for signs of Torrent's forces, a band of heavily-armed marauders rushed the Trading Center. A few dozen Krah and Plurn, wielding hammers and battle axes, descended upon the unfinished westward wall with savage cries. Archers were summoned to the
