The entire fleet had long since separated from each other as each cohort made its way through their designated passageways.

Leona rode on a horse beside Evra, leading the faeries behind a standard bearer riding in front of them. Their group’s battle mage rode silently behind them, a burly man in his middle years. His eyes had gone from black to a bright turquoise as he held the connection with the other mages from other fleets.

The journey was long and hard. There was little light except for the torches some of the men carried.

They stopped occasionally to let the men rest. Finally, after what felt like days or maybe even just a few hours, they saw a light at the end of the dark tunnel they had been going into.

Everyone tensed as they clearly saw firelight flickering in the darkness.

They were now directly underneath the Island of Skegmarr, what lay in front of them were the depths of Neizagaard itself.

“First line of defense,” Evra said as quietly as she could behind her, “Get ready and approach the entrance as carefully as possible.”

About thirty archers stepped out of the ranks and made a square in front of the standard bearer. They took their bows from their backs and nocked an arrow into them.

Nothing stirred for several tense minutes. Leona followed Evra as she unsheathed her sword. The sounds of sword being unsheathed behind them and bows being strung clattered behind them.

Leona stared warily at Evra as she fixed the shield on her arm. She wondered why she wasn’t given a shield to protect herself with, to which Prolopa had replied, ‘Ordinary fey have little power in them.’

The minutes stretched on uncomfortably until the mage behind them gasped and shouted in alarm.

“Archers! Fire at will! There are T’lakr coming this way. There are about a hundred in all. They are coming fast. Lieutenant, prepare to attack, the other fleets have begun to fight. Brace yourselves.”

Leona’s hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, her heart hammering away wildly and cold sweat trickled down her back. Then she heard the first arrow to be fired hit someone – or something – that sent of a blood-curdling scream.

Months of traveling, learning, escaping Ramadak, and preparation flashed through Leona’s mind.