In the city, along Orynth’s walls, a white-haired queen bellowed, “Push! Push! Push!” Exhausted witches took to the skies, on broom and beast, swords lifting. Racing for the front of the aerial legion turning to the ruks. To crush the Ironteeth legion between them. On the bloody ground, Morath aimed spears, pikes, swords, anything they bore at the thundering cavalry. It was not enough to stop them. Not when shields of wind and flame and blackest death locked into place—and sliced into the front lines of Morath. Felling the soldiers braced for battle. Exposing those behind still waiting to
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