But training made a difference. The attackers were professionals. They found openings that townsfolk missed. They struck with precision while the defenders swung wild. For every attacker who fell, several townspeople went down too.

  I saw Alderman Marsh take a blow to the shoulder that spun her around. Saw a fisherman drop his weapon and clutch a bleeding arm. Saw the young farmer with the pitchfork stumble and catch himself against a wall.

  “We’re losing,” Felix said. He had blood on his face from a cut he hadn’t noticed receiving. “The traps bought us time, but it’s not enough.”

  He was right. Heart and numbers and fury only carried you so far against skill and experience and the cold efficiency of killing as a profession.

  “Where are the reinforcements?” I asked. “Brennan should have reached Duncan by now.”

  “Travel time,” Felix said. “Even if Duncan left immediately, the capital is hours away.”

  We might not have hours.

  Then I noticed something strange.

  The sky had darkened too fast for passing clouds. Something was wrong. Shadows deepened across the street as light fled from overhead.

  I looked up.

  Clouds rolled across the sky with unnatural speed. They churned and twisted like living things. Lightning flickered in their depths, too close for a distant storm. Power charged the air and made the hair on my arms stand upright.

  The air tasted like metal.

  “Felix.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Look up.”

  He did. His eyes went wide.

  “What the...” He didn’t finish the question.

  I knew that feeling. The charge in the air. The pressure that built in my chest. The sense of vast energy barely contained. I had felt it once before in a castle study when I stood across from a prince who could not quite hide what he was.

  “Duncan,” I breathed.

  Lightning slammed into the ground.

  The bolt struck the center of the street with a crack that shattered windows.

  Light exploded across the battlefield in a blinding white flash that burned afterimages into my vision. Thunder followed so loud it felt like a physical blow. I staggered back with my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut.

  When I could see again, the fighting had stopped.

  Everyone stood frozen. Attackers and defenders alike stared at the smoking crater that had appeared in the middle of the street and tried to understand what had just happened.

  More lightning came. Bolt after bolt slammed into the ground around the battlefield. Each one was precise and placed to avoid hitting anyone directly. Each one demonstrated power that dwarfed anything the ice wards had accomplished.

  The message was clear. Someone had arrived who could end this fight with a gesture.

  The thunder faded. The clouds continued to churn overhead. And down the main road, a column of riders appeared.

  Duncan rode at the front.

  His arms crackled with residual lightning. Blue-white energy arced between his fingers and danced across his shoulders. His face held the cold fury of a prince whose friend had been kidnapped and whose kingdom had been attacked.

  Behind him came soldiers in Keldrath colors. Twenty at least, maybe more. Professional fighters with real armor and real weapons and the discipline of men who served the crown.

  And beside the soldiers rode a group I recognized.

  Kyle raised his hand in greeting. Garrett and Elara flanked him with Brother Francis close behind. Shade appeared at the edge of the formation, though I hadn’t seen him arrive. The Silver Compass had come to Dunmarch.

  The attackers’ leader stared at the approaching force. At the lightning that danced on Duncan’s arms. At the soldiers and adventurers and the very clear message that resistance meant death.

  He dropped his sword.

  “We surrender,” he said.

  The battle was over.

  Chapter 37

  Chain Of Command

  The silence after battle felt louder than the fighting itself.

  Duncan’s soldiers moved through the street with practiced efficiency. They gathered weapons. They bound prisoners. They checked the fallen for survivors. Everything happened with the smooth coordination of men who had done this work before.

  The townspeople stood in clusters and watched. Some held their makeshift weapons like they had forgotten how to let go. Others sat where they had fallen and stared at nothing. The baker had tears streaming down his face, though I couldn’t tell if they came from relief or shock or something else entirely.

  No one had died. Somehow, impossibly, we had fought forty armed men and emerged with nothing worse than cuts and bruises. The ice traps had evened the odds enough to matter. Duncan’s arrival had ended things before the real killing started.

  It felt like a miracle. It felt like we had been lucky beyond any reasonable expectation.

  Adrian stood near the meeting hall with Duncan at his side. The two princes made a striking contrast. Adrian bore the marks of captivity and battle. His borrowed sword hung loose in his grip. Exhaustion lined his face. Duncan crackled with residual energy as lightning still played across his shoulders in fading arcs. His expression held cold fury that had not yet found its target.

  “You look terrible,” Prince Duncan said.

  “You look terrifying.” Adrian managed a weak smile. “I’ve seen you practice with that lightning before, but nothing like this.”

  “I’ve been training.” Duncan flexed his fingers and the last sparks faded. “Father thought it was time I learned to use it properly.”

  “Remind me to thank him.”

  Duncan’s expression hardened. “I pushed the horses as hard as I dared. Should have pushed them harder. You shouldn’t have had to defend this town alone.”

  “We weren’t alone.” Adrian gestured at the townspeople around us. “And you arrived when it mattered.”

  “We weren’t alone. That’s the point.” Adrian gestured at the townspeople who surrounded us. “These people fought for us with pitchforks and hammers and whatever else they could find. They chose to stand instead of surrender.”

  Duncan looked at the crowd. At the farmers still gripping their tools and the shopkeepers with blood on their clothes. Ordinary people who had faced professional killers and survived.

  “This is what Keldrath is,” he said quietly. “This is who my people are.”

  Kyle joined us near the town well. The adventurer looked much as he had when we parted ways after the escort north. Practical armor. Sword at his hip. The confident bearing of someone who had faced worse than forty brigands. Garrett and Elara flanked him with Brother Francis and Shade close behind.

  “Marcus. Felix.” Kyle clasped our forearms in greeting. “You two have a talent for finding trouble.”

  “The trouble found us this time.” I looked past him to the soldiers and adventurers who had accompanied Duncan’s force. “How did you end up with the cavalry?”

  “Ran into your sister in Valdmere. We’d stopped for supplies on our way back from the wastes.” Kyle shook his head. “She told us about Adrian. Said you’d contacted her through that communication network of yours and she was worried you’d do something reckless.”

  “That sounds like Rose.”

  “She asked us to check on you if we could. We were already heading toward Keldrath anyway.” Kyle shrugged. “Arrived in the capital just as Duncan was mobilizing his forces. Seemed like the right group to join.”

  “So Rose sent you.” Felix shook his head. “She’s supposed to be focused on her apprenticeship, not coordinating rescue missions.”

  “She can do both, apparently.” Kyle’s expression warmed. “That resonance chamber she gave me before we left Millbrook? I check in with her every few days. Never know what you’ll hear.” He paused. “When I called in two nights ago, she told me everything. Adrian kidnapped. You planning a rescue. The whole situation.”

  “And you just happened to be close enough to help.”

  “We were two days out from Valdmere after the wastes mission. We pushed hard and made it in one.” Kyle shrugged. “We arrived just as Duncan was mobilizing. Seemed like the right group to join.”

  I thought about Rose sitting at her resonance chamber in the capital. Waiting for Kyle’s check-in. Telling him everything the moment she had the chance. Doing everything she could from where she was.

  That sounded exactly like her.

  Duncan introduced his companion after the soldiers finished securing the prisoners.

  The man was older than I expected. Mid-fifties at least, with gray hair cropped short and a face that had seen hard years. He wore robes instead of armor, but the way he carried himself suggested he had done more fighting than most soldiers.

  “Owen Marsh,” Duncan said. “My Siege Scribe.”

  The title alone made Felix’s eyes widen. I felt my own expression shift toward impressed. Siege Scribes were legendary in glyphwright circles. Battle mages who could cast wards at range without physical anchors. The kind of practitioners who turned the tide of wars.

  “A dramatic title,” Owen said. His voice held the dry tone of someone who had heard the reactions too many times. “Really, I just make loud noises and knock down walls.”

  “He knocked down the walls of Thornhaven during the Southern Uprising,” Duncan added. “From three hundred yards away.”

  “That was a particularly good day.” Owen studied Felix and me with professional interest. “You’re the ones who set the ice traps? I felt the ward signatures as we approached. Bedrock resonance powering the activation arrays?”

  “You could feel that?”

  “Anyone with proper training would notice. The energy draw was substantial.” Owen nodded slowly. “Elegant work. Crude in some respects, but elegant. You adapted field techniques to offensive applications without losing efficiency.”

  “We had limited time and materials,” I said.

  “Obviously. A proper installation would have taken weeks. You managed something functional in hours.” His expression shifted toward approval. “I’ve seen journeymen with twice your experience produce worse results under better conditions.”

  “Coming from a Siege Scribe, that’s high praise,” Felix said.

  “Coming from me, it’s an accurate assessment.” Owen turned to Duncan. “These two might be useful when we move against the estate. They understand the practical applications in ways that matter.”

  “Estate?” I asked.

  Duncan’s expression darkened. “We have prisoners to question first. Then we’ll discuss next steps.”

  The interrogation took place in the town’s meeting hall.

  Dunmarch’s citizens had cleared the space and set chairs for the questioning. Duncan sat at the center with Adrian beside him. Owen took a position near the wall where he could observe without participating directly. Kyle and his team guarded the exits.

  The soldiers brought in prisoners one at a time.

  Most of them knew nothing useful. They weren’t much more than hired muscle recruited from taverns across Keldrath. They had been promised good pay for simple work. Nobody had explained they would be attacking a town protected by a prince who threw lightning.

  But the leader knew more.

  They had stripped him of weapons and bound his hands behind his back. The confident swagger from the standoff had disappeared. He sat in the interrogation chair with the defeated posture of someone who understood his situation completely.

  “Who hired you?” Duncan asked.

  “You know who.” The leader’s voice held resignation rather than defiance. “Same people who’ve been causing problems across your kingdom for months.”

  “Names.”

  “I dealt with a woman. Trade commission official. She arranged payment. Gave the targets. Set the timetables.”

  “Fiona.” Duncan’s voice went flat.

  “That’s the one. Sharp dresser. Sharp eyes. Sharper tongue.” The leader shrugged. “She said the work was authorized. Said we’d be doing the kingdom a favor by removing troublemakers who threatened legitimate commerce.”

  “Troublemakers.” Adrian leaned forward. “You mean the people teaching villages how to fix their own wards? The glyphwrights showing towns how to survive without paying extortion prices?”

  “I don’t ask about the details. I just do the job.” The leader met Adrian’s gaze without flinching. “For what it’s worth, I thought you’d surrender. Thought we’d rough up a few farmers and burn some equipment and everyone would learn their lesson. Didn’t expect the whole town to fight back.”

  “Then you don’t know Dunmarch.”

  “I know it now.”

  Duncan stood. His chair scraped against the floor with a sound that made everyone in the room flinch.

  “Fiona,” he said. The name came out like a curse. “She’s been blocking our work since we started. Delaying permits. Raising fees. Creating bureaucratic obstacles at every turn.” He looked at Adrian. “I thought she was just protecting her position. Defending the commission’s authority against outside interference.”

  “She was protecting someone else’s interests,” I said. “Someone who profits from the supply shortages. From the failing wards. From the towns that can’t afford to maintain their own infrastructure.”

  “Edmund Gray.” Duncan’s hands clenched into fists. Lightning flickered between his fingers. “The consortium. They’ve been using her to obstruct everything we’ve tried to accomplish.”

  “Using her or directing her?” Felix asked. “There is a difference.”

  “One we’ll determine soon enough.” Duncan turned to the soldiers. “Take him away. We have more questions, but not for him.”

  The guards led the prisoner out. Duncan stood at the center of the room with lightning still crackling across his knuckles.

  “Fiona first,” he said. “She has answers and proof that we need. Then we deal with Edmund Gray himself.”

  Kyle stepped forward. “We’ll keep watch here. Anyone else shows up looking for trouble, they’ll find more than they bargained for.”

  “Thank you.” I meant it. These people had ridden across Keldrath to help us. They had faced down forty armed men without hesitation. And had chosen to stand with a town full of strangers because it was the right thing to do.

  “Thank Rose,” Kyle said. “She’s the one who convinced us to change our plans. Said something about her brother having a talent for getting into situations that required backup.”

  “She’s not wrong.”

  “She rarely is.” Kyle clasped my forearm again. “Go find whoever’s behind this. We’ll hold things together here.”

  We left Dunmarch as the stars came out.

  Adrian rode beside Duncan with Roderick and Henrick flanking them as always. Owen traveled at the center of our group with the quiet confidence of someone who had nothing to prove. Felix and I brought up the rear with our weighted sticks and our remaining supplies.

  The road to Valdmere stretched ahead. Somewhere at the end of it, a woman named Fiona had answers we needed. Beyond her, someone else pulled the strings. Edmund Gray. The Gray Ghost. The man no one had ever seen who controlled half the commerce in Keldrath.

  “This doesn’t end with Fiona,” I said.

  Felix nodded. “She’s just another link in the chain.”

  “But she might know where the chain leads.”

  “Then we ask politely.” Felix’s voice held an edge I had rarely heard. “And if she doesn’t want to answer politely, we ask less politely.”

  Ahead of us, Duncan’s shoulders crackled with faint lightning. The prince of Keldrath rode toward his capital with vengeance in his heart and power at his fingertips.

  Fiona had made enemies of the wrong people.

  She just did not know it yet.

  Chapter 38

  Honest Answers

  We reached Valdmere as dawn broke over the capitol.

  The ride had taken most of the night. Duncan set a pace that left little room for rest and none for conversation. His lightning had faded hours ago, but the cold fury in his expression remained. Adrian rode beside him with the quiet determination of someone who understood that this was far from over.

  Owen spent the journey in silence. The Siege Scribe seemed content to observe and wait. Whatever thoughts occupied his mind, he kept them to himself.

  Felix and I brought up the rear with Roderick and Henrick. The guards had insisted on accompanying us despite Duncan’s suggestion that they remain in Dunmarch. Their prince had been kidnapped on their watch. Nothing would keep them from seeing this through.

  “The trade commission building?” I asked as we entered the city.

  “Her residence.” Duncan’s voice carried back to us. “Fiona stopped going to her office three days ago. She knows we’re coming.”

  “How do you know where she lives?”

  “I’m the prince of this kingdom.” He didn’t turn around. “I know where everyone lives.”

  The streets were empty at this hour save for a few early merchants preparing their stalls for the morning market. A baker’s apprentice carried trays of bread from an oven to a shop window. The city had not yet awakened to the day that would reshape its political landscape.

  We rode through districts I recognized from our previous visits. Past the guild hall where Hamish and the other glyphwrights had welcomed our methods with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Past the Highland Crown where we had stayed before everything went wrong. Past the trade commission building where Fiona had once blocked our work with bureaucratic precision.

  Duncan led us to a residential district near the city’s western edge. The houses here were larger than those in the merchant quarters. Gardens separated properties from one another. High walls surrounded estates that valued privacy over accessibility.

  “There.” Duncan pointed to a three-story building at the end of a cobblestone lane. “That’s Fiona’s residence.”