“You good?” Slay asked.
He wore an expression of visible concern. It seemed as if he was always watching her, reading her like a story he found fascinating. Rowena wasn’t used to such prolonged attention, except under particular circumstances, but she savored Slay’s interest.
“Just fretting a little. I wish we could just get this over with, but certain preparations have to be made.”
“You’re worried about how they’ll fare,” he guessed.
He didn’t see himself this way, but he was always shrewd about her thoughts and fears. Rowena nodded with a faint sigh.
“They’re not trained. Most have barely shifted in their lives and…” She hesitated, not wanting to give voice to her doubts.
Slay whispered, “And they’re up against what’s left of the Elite Royal Guard.”
Ro compressed her lips, offering only a single inclination of her head to indicate he’d correctly identify her greatest concern. It wasn’t even fear of death, precisely, but the terror that she’d lead the entire resistance to their doom, get them slaughtered in a battle they had no hope of winning. Yet such a fine opportunity would never come again.
If not now, never.
She liked that he didn’t offer false reassurances. There were no guarantees, but everything was planned as well as it could be. Steadying her nerves, she touched Slay lightly on the arm in silent thanks, then she made her way to Kani’s side. The girl had a hunk of bread in both hands and was dipping it vigorously in the mushroom stew. She wore a blissful expression, one Rowena wasn’t used to seeing.
Privately she wished that children like Kani could be kept safe, but they needed everyone on the offensive. Otherwise, their frail and vulnerable could be used against them. In shifted forms, it would be difficult to pinpoint weaknesses, impossible to discern age that way as well.
Rowena wanted to speak a few encouraging words to the girl, but they didn’t come. In the end, she smiled at Kani and walked past her to address Nolen. “You have orders from Chantisse?” she asked.
The boy nodded, determined to the last. “We’ll be in the rearguard, along with everyone else Chantisse wants to protect.”
She and Slay would be part of the vanguard, the first to join the fray. Rowena took satisfaction in that.
“Understood. Do either of you want more soup?” At their eager nods, she refilled the bowls and served for a bit longer, circulating among the hungry crowd, before Hettie finally stepped into her path with an aggravated sigh.
“Sit down and eat. Nobody needs sustenance more than you, my love.”
As soon as Ro stopped moving, exhaustion set in. Rowena swayed a little but before Hettie could touch her and raise all her defenses, Slay was there with a hand beneath her elbow. He led her out of the throng, and she saw he’d laid a meal for her already, servings of everything they’d helped to prepare.
“Eat,” he ordered.
It would be foolish to demur. She sank to the ground with a weary exhalation and devoured the food at a slow and steady pace. When she’d eaten about half of it, Slay finally started his meal.
“You watch me like a hawk,” she muttered.
“If you took care of yourself better I wouldn’t have to.” He scowled as he took an angry bite of shroom stew, followed by a hunk of fresh bread.
Ro cocked a brow. “Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. Makes me feel needed.”
“You are,” she whispered.
As his golden gaze met hers, the market went silent, and the space dimmed, until she could only see his face, lean and drawn from hunger and fatigue. It only made his eyes burn brighter in contrast, two amber stars glowing beneath sooty brows. She loved the sharpness of his nose and the bony cut of his jaw, the sensual curl of his lips when he was lazily amused. Everything about this man pleased her, and soon, very soon, she’d show him how much.
Slay’s throat worked. “You’re looking at me like you’d prefer to eat me up instead of what’s on your plate.”
“If only,” she said wistfully.
Stifling a groan, he muttered, “For the first time, I understand what they mean when they say ‘war is hell’.”
“Because it leaves us no time for pleasure?” she suggested.
Slay smiled. “Among other things.”
This feeling wouldn’t wait. Desire rose inside her like a massive, winged bird and she leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to the ridge of his cheekbone. With an air of dawning wonder, he raised two fingertips and touched the warm spot she’d left. Rowena didn’t feel shy until she registered his amazement, then she ducked her head, watching her plate with more fascination than it warranted.
“I will never stop loving how it feels to be someone you trust,” he said.
Suddenly, Rowena realized that Hettie had been trying to attract her attention for a while. “If you’re quite done with the treacle,” the other woman said, “Chantisse would like to hold a final strategy meeting, as we’ll be moving in a few hours.”
“Understood.” Ro took her plate and followed her friend, glancing back once to make sure Slay was with them.
As ever, Chantisse was in the middle of everything with people clamoring for her attention. She took the time to listen, appease each concern, and every one of her petitioners felt seen and heard by the time they left. Up close, Rowena saw the toll leadership had taken on her. Her eyes were red and her face drawn.
Still, Chantisse managed a smile. “Rowena! Glad Hettie found you. This way. There are a few contingencies we ought to discuss. The most vulnerable point will come when we push to the upper tiers. It’s a risk that we’ll lose some of our own in the rush. So many bodies, a tight passageway…and those stairs…” Chantisse shook her head, clearly not wanting to say more and risk demoralizing anyone who might overhear.
But Rowena could easily imagine people getting trampled, especially those whose strength failed them and they couldn’t hold their shifted forms. Thick Golgoth skin would protect them from much permanent harm, but if they lost that armor and stumbled—
No, best not to picture worst-case scenarios. Her heart hammered as she banished the potential for disaster.
“You’ve assigned the weakest among us to the rearguard,” she said aloud.
Chantisse nodded. “It was the best I could do. But listen, I’ve been brainstorming and here’s my idea.”
Before the resistance leader could unveil her strategy, Nolen came running, panting in his urgency. “We’re out of time!”
Slay stepped forward, steadying the boy with both hands on his shoulders. “Take a breath. Try again.”
The kid did as instructed, then gasped, “They’re flooding the city. I carried the message to the western barracks as you asked and on the way back, I saw that the cisterns were overflowing. So I scouted elsewhere and all the intake valves are open. At the rate the water is coming in, we’ll be submerged in less than two days.”
The undercity wasn’t built in tiers like the upper levels and there were limited places to serve as high ground refuge. Slay already knew what had to happen. The final push would come sooner than they’d planned. That was all.
Ro put a comforting hand on Nolen’s shoulder. “They must have been alerted when the last guard change failed.”