“They will control no daeva here.” Lord Knox sounded pleased and disappointed all at once. The Hollow Mountains loomed before us, thin, craggy peaks that decorated Odalia’s southern coastline like the lower jaws of some gargantuan sea monster. It was a natural barrier between the kingdom and Drycht, one that Odalian kings have long harnessed as a defensive position against invaders. I was not privy to the military roundtables that went on among the generals, but I could see Arhen-Koshon ships closing in on either side of the range. It was likely that they prevented Drychta ships from landing anywhere but along these mountain shores, which gave us the advantage of terrain.

The southern outpost had been constructed many years ago by the Odalian queen, Bregane, and it has since withstood the test of time, with fortifications added to and improved by her descendants. Though simple and utilitarian in appearance, the star-shaped bastion was heavily defended. Ditches and sharpened spikes surrounded the fort, making it impassable for most attacks.

There was no sign of the Dark asha or her azi. Lord Fox stared into the sky, searching every cloud for the telltale speck of black. I saw his mouth move and had no need to hear his whispered, Where are you, Tea? sent out into the air like an open secret.

“The Gorvekai tell us that this so-called First Harvest is not in the Hollow Mountains,” General Lode rumbled, “so what devilry do the Drychta intend to do here? Invade Odalia? They no longer have the element of surprise. Draw out the Dark asha and her daeva? Surely they could do so in other territories where they could maintain the advantage.”

“Reports tell me that these are Aadil’s most devoted soldiers,” King Kance observed. “All ten thousand members of the Golden Rod, his private army. Then another ten thousand men from his special forces, handpicked for their brutal efficiency. And there may be more.”

“That might pose more of a problem than General Lode thinks,” Lord Fox decided. “We expect them to leave the range and engage us in battle, but they show every indication of staying put. Our defenses amount to nothing if they do not come down the Hollows, milords.”

“We outnumber them five to one,” Lord Balfour pointed out.

“That makes no difference, Sir Balfour. We won’t be able to keep our formation if we go through those narrower paths, and the crevices ensure archers can pick us off before we reach the bulk of their army. If we go in, they’ll have the advantage.”

“So this is going to be a protracted siege?” Lord Aden groaned. “I hate sieges.”

“If you have any ideas for luring the Drychta out of the Hollows, Lord Aden, then I would be more than pleased to let you assume command.”

“What do you think, Althy?” Lord Fox asked.

“There are enough of us asha to try and shake the mountain asunder. But it would destroy the Hollows and cause quite a few problems—landslides, earthquakes, and the like. I would not want to make that attempt until we have exhausted all other options.”

King Kance turned to Lord Agnarr, who’d been silent throughout the deliberations. “You know more about Tea’s intentions than any of us. What has she told you?”

“The Faceless have allied themselves with the Drychta for generations, Your Majesty, but it is only recently that they have infiltrated the ranks of royalty with King Aadil.”

“We already knew that. But what is their purpose here? Where is Tea? Did she intend to attract the Drychta to these mountains long enough for us to arrive?” His eyes narrowed, studying the man like he’d never seen him before. “Or did her lures equally apply to us?”

“That is a possibility.”

He drew his sword at lightning speed, pointed it at the Gorvekai’s chest. “Why did Tea send you with us? Tell me.”

Lord Agnarr took no offense. His gaze was sympathetic. “Lady Tea sent me to ensure that you would come here, milord, and not into Drycht, as your empress wanted.”

From somewhere far off came a thin, toneless cry. It hung in the air, and my blood chilled at the sound. I had spent weeks listening to those howlings while the beasts frolicked along the Sea of Skulls, after their owner coaxed them one by one into semblances of life and bottled their essences into her soul.

From the rocky shores of the Hollows that spilled out into the Odalian Sea, misshapen forms rose from the foam. First came the nanghait, its faces emerging from beneath the roll of the tides, pulling itself through the rocks and silt. Then the taurvi and its crooning voice, and the zarich with its loping gait. One by one, the daeva washed ashore, skins and hides gleaming from the sea, and as one, they raised their heads and roared.

From above, the azi swooped down, tail whipping and talons sharp. Unlike its brothers, it made no sound. The azi had no need for those theatrics. Instead, it made straight for the Hollows, flames streaming from its three mouths.

And as our horrified eyes watched, the mountains caught fire.