"Up already?" Mitchell asked.

Allora turned to see him laying there, eyes open, with Lethelin snuggled and snoring lightly on the far side of the bed. It had been her hope that she could slip out without waking either of them, but she should have known better. Mitchell always seemed to know. She smiled.

"I wish to say my prayers to Vish this morning. I will return when I am done. Do not worry."

"How did you sleep?"

"As well as I could. Having you close helped."

Allora sat back down on the edge of the bed and her hand found his, gripping it tightly.

"I have not had the dreams since our time together at the spring," Allora told him as she let her fingers trace his palm. "I have not known such peaceful sleep since before Milandris came."

Mitchell eased Lethelin's arm off himself and sat up. Lethelin stirred but didn't awaken.

"Cut you..." the thief mumbled to herself as her body curled into a fetal position in Mitchell's absence. "And more gawan cakes or the jivi will mount your mother."

They both grinned at the sleeping woman.

Mitchell leaned forward and their heads came together.

"I guess that means we'll need to sleep together every night forever," he told her his voice filling her insides with warm honey.

"As my lord commands," she told him, her lips brushing his.

"Go," he told her as they came apart. "Say a prayer to Vish for me, as well."

"I always do."

They separated and Allora exited quietly through the door and headed up the stairs towards the inn's ground floor. Just the idea of being outside again made her heart beat a little faster. She'd been in the warded bedroom for three days now and, even though she understood the necessity of it, it had still been stressful.

Emerging from the stairs she was shocked to see two others sitting in the inn's common room, all wearing sleeping clothes. Both women stood at her entrance and bowed.

"Stollar's blessings upon you, Lord Captain," Elrin said into the morning quiet.

"Good morning to you, Lord Captain," Gilriel said in turn.

The title still sat strangely upon her shoulders, but she knew better than to try and refuse it or to insist that they call her Allora. Not on a day like today, at any rate. So rather than try to play it off, she returned their bow with one of her own, though not nearly as low.

"Stollar's blessings to you, as well. I see I am not the only one that wishes to pray this morning.

"Indeed," Gilriel said, smiling. "I have been waiting for you. Cenedra has a small shrine in her courtyard that we can pray at, if the Lord Captain wishes."

Allora nodded her agreement and followed the two women outside.

"Does Eldrick not wish to pray as well?" Allora asked Eldrin as they stepped into the pre-dawn darkness of the courtyard. Vish, though too low for them to make out from their place in the city, still illuminated the sky to the west. Allora detected the smell of smoke on the breeze. There had been fires in the night.

"My brother has always been a deep sleeper before a battle, my lady. But I will rouse him if you wish it."

Allora smiled.

"No, that is not necessary."

The three knights made there way down the small path through the inn's courtyard to where Cenedra had constructed her shrines. She saw that one had been constructed for each of the gods. Allora and the other two women knelt down on the soft grass in front of Vish's shrine, each of them lowering their foreheads to the earth and breathing in the scent of the still air.

Allora didn't know what the others might be praying for, but she imagined it was not that dissimilar from her own wishes. As she repeated the words her mother had taught her all those years ago, she felt the peace of the shrine wash over her. Her heartbeat began to slow, her mind began to quiet, and she thought she could feel Vish's grace settle upon her.

"Lady Vish, goddess of my mother's people, your humble servant greets you. We come to it at last, and I beg for your guidance this day."

***

"What's that one do?" Eraphys asked as Lethelin pushed the stopper into the vial and placed it back inside the box.

Lethelin glanced up sharply at the door to the vacant room where she had been making her various poisons in preparation for the fight ahead.

"What are you doing up?"

The young half-elf girl fidgeted before answering. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were still heavy with sleep.

"I just... if you're going to fight today, I want to fight, too. I've been practicing with the dagger you gave me. I didn't cut myself at all yesterday."

Lethelin smiled a little and focused back on her preparations. Every blade she had was arranged on a cloth in front of her, as well as the arrows she'd managed to construct in the time available. The armor-piercing one she'd told Eraphys about was only one of the things she'd been able to make.

"Don't be silly, girl. I can't bring you into this fight. You'll stay here with Cenedra and do as you're told. When the battle is over, I'll send for you."

"But..." Eraphys trailed off.

When Lethelin looked up, she saw the girl's eyes were moist.

"But?"

"You're going into the palace with Lord Mitchell and Lady Allora. What if you don't come out again, like my...?"

Lethelin remembered then what the girl had told her about her parents. They had gone up to the palace for a delivery the night of the coup and never returned, likely killed in the battle that broke out there. Lethelin felt a stab of sympathy for the girl. With a sigh, she began to slide her blades back into their sheaths careful not to touch the edges. It felt good to have them in their proper place again. Most of them had been tucked away in her pack for far too long.

"Come here, girl."

Eraphys stepped into the room and then sat on the floor next to Lethelin.

"Did you ever see the Onyx Knights fight before the old monarch was killed?"

Eraphys wobbled her head.

"I only saw them on the streets sometimes. They never fought in festival games like the guardsmen did."

"Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because they're too good. I would put any single knight against ten city guardsmen."

"I know I'm only twelve high suns old, but I'm not stupid," Eraphys said and pushed at Lethelin. "Ten?"

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"Ten," Lethelin confirmed. "They train their whole lives. There is a reason none of the other kingdoms have tried to take Awenor since the war with Iletish. It's because they were all afraid of the knights."

"But they were all killed before," Eraphys said, her voice quiet, yet still challenging.

"Many were killed, but not all," Lethelin corrected. "And that was through some deep treachery. But you know what's worse than an Onyx Knight?"

"What?"

"An angry Onyx Knight. And Lady Allora is very angry. Milandris has been hunting for her for two years because he's afraid of what she could do. He sent all those soldiers into the city thinking he was only looking for one Onyx Knight because he knows how powerful they are. And we don't just have one angry knight, we have seven."

Eraphys pondered this for a moment.

"Do you really think that will be enough?"

"I wouldn't be charging into battle if I thought I was going to lose. It's not going to be easy, but I think we can make it."

"Okay..." Eraphys said reluctantly.

"And while I'm out there, you stay here. Keep the knife hidden, and if anyone comes in that doesn't belong, you stick them where I showed you to stick them. Help Cenedra keep this place safe."

Eraphys nodded.

"Now, to answer your first question, this is called witch bane."

Lethelin pulled the small bottle she'd recently stoppered and held it out to Eraphys.

"I apply some to the edge of these two daggers here," Lethelin explained and held up two small simple daggers with four-inch blades. "If I think I'm likely to be fighting a magic user and I can't avoid it, I try to cut them with one of these. They're weighted for throwing, as well."

"They look awful small. Can you kill someone with these?"

"I don't want to kill them with these, I just want to cut them. Witch bane confuses them, makes it hard for them to focus on their magic. You have to be extra careful with magic users because you never know what kind of spells they can cast at you. It's best not to fight them head on at all, but if you have to, witch bane can slow them down, make it really hard or almost impossible for them to use their magic. They can't concentrate on their runes and spells."

"Oh! Like if they're drunk?"

"Something like that. But even a drunk caster can still cast some spells if they're good. Witch bane clouds up their inner sight, the thing that helps them visualize their magic spells. I've got both edges coated on these, so I can slice four times, once for each edge, or give a double dose if I have to throw it."

"Wouldn't throwing the knife kill them anyway?"

"Not necessarily. What if you only hit an arm or a leg? The poison ensures that any wound I can inflict will all but guarantee that they can't use their magic on me. Then I can kill them if I need to."

Eraphys nodded her understanding.

"What about that one?"

Lethelin looked at the red vial that Eraphys was pointing to.

"That one? That one is particularly nasty."

***

Mitchell stared at himself in the room's mirror. His freshly shaven face looked back at him, appearing calm and unconcerned. Mitchell thought that was some sort of cruel joke because he certainly didn't feel that way. His insides were liquid and he found he had to struggle to focus on what he was meant to be doing. His hands kept stopping mid-task as he was lacing up something or threading a buckle and he would simply stare blankly at his fingers for long seconds before he remembered what he was about.

Was this how soldiers always felt before a big battle, he wondered. Was this how his grandfather felt before...? And, once again, his mind came up against that smooth featureless wall where the memory had once been and he cursed under his breath. Would he feel this uncertain if he still had that story of heroism to draw strength from? Unfortunately, there was no way to know. It was kind of like the paradox of getting a vaccine. If one got the vaccine and didn't get sick, was that the vaccine, or was it because you never got exposed? Would he feel more confident and less like he wanted to hide in a hole if he knew what it was his grandfather had done in the war or was this just a natural feeling that any sane person felt before rushing toward such an uncertain future?

"Oh, fuck it," Mitchell snarled and stood up straight from where he had been trying to lace up his scabbard into his belt. "I'll do it later."

"Problems?" a soft voice said from behind him.

Mitchell turned to see Allora standing in the doorway studying him.

"No," he told her. "I just can't seem to get my fingers to work right."

Allora gave him her little smile and stepped into the room. As she approached him, she brought her hands up and laced her fingers behind his neck and looked into his eyes.

"It is alright to be nervous before a battle," she told him. "Especially with so much on the line."

Mitchell brought his forehead to hers and they stood in silence for a moment.

"You know what I'm really looking forward to seeing?" he asked.

"What is that?"

"You in your full armor. And I want to watch the people as they see you descend upon our enemies like an avenging angel."

Allora chuckled and her lips found his for a gentle kiss.

"It is a nice thought," she told him. "I have been forced to hide for so long. But now, thanks to you, I will once again stand tall in Stollar's light."

"Because of me?" Mitchell asked, and pulled away. "You did all the hard work. I just followed along."

"I think you do not give yourself enough credit," Allora chided.

Her hands came free and she began to work at the straps of his scabbard that he had been unable to secure with his uncooperative fingers.

"Let us review. It is true that in the beginning you were like a babe barely able to walk, but you have been leading our little group for some weeks now. Somewhere in the mountains you began to believe in yourself. You gained the love and trust of Lethelin and brought her fully into the fold, and you did not let my stubbornness harden your heart towards me."

"Yeah, but—"

"I am not finished," she told him.

Mitchell closed his mouth.

"Somehow you managed to get Gilriel to return to the city. Something I was unable to do, even after weeks of begging as we worked on the spell to find you."

Mitchell cleared his throat. He hadn't told her about the conversation he'd had with Gilriel in her garden, but Allora had deduced that he'd had something to do with it, anyway.

"And," Allora continued, "she brought along several more knights that I didn't even know existed. You gained us an ally here in the city. You came up with the plan that is already bearing fruit as tensions in the city begin to overflow. You tamed a shadow cat, one of the most feared creatures on the continent and, to my knowledge, something that has never been done before. All of this was by your hand, Mitchell. We would not be where we are now had you not found that inner strength. And if we succeed today, it will be through the tactics that you devised to get us into the palace."

With a final tug, she finished securing the scabbard and looked at him fully.

"Please do not disparage the man I love," she said firmly. "I will hear no more talk about your lack of ability."

Mitchell felt his face flush. He'd never been very good at taking compliments but the quiet conviction in Allora's praise had forestalled any protests he might have given.

"Well..." he said at last. "I never would have gotten this far without you."

"Nor I without you," she said with a smile. "Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for trusting me when you had no good reason to do so."

"Hey now," came a voice from the door. "What about me? I think I deserve some of those compliments as well."

Mitchell and Allora both turned to see Lethelin standing there. She had a smile on her face, but Mitchell could make out the worry in her eyes. Mitchell knew she carried that knot of insecurity about her position in their group because she couldn't get over her feelings of being an outsider.

"Yes, you absolutely do," he told her and reached out a hand to beckon her into the room."

Lethelin stepped in, setting her bow and poisoner's kit down on the bed, and then walked into Mitchell's outstretched arm, and he hugged her tight. Allora was pressed into his right side and Lethelin on his left. Mitchell saw that Allora's other arm reached out and embraced Lethelin and the thief returned it.

"Lethelin," Allora said as her head rested on Mitchell's shoulder, "even though we share no blood, I want you to know that I think of you as my sister."

Mitchell saw Lethelin's head tilt up to meet Allora's eyes.

"You do?"

"I am proud to fight alongside you today."

Mitchell saw the flush rise in Lethelin's freckled cheeks and he smiled. Then he saw a wicked little grin stretch her full red lips.

"Not like real sisters, though, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Lethelin closed the small gap between then, stretched herself up and kissed Allora on the lips. Mitchell could feel Allora tense at the moment, but then she leaned into the kiss and she did something with her hand that Mitchell couldn't see which caused Lethelin to utter a strangled squeak as their kiss deepened.

Mitchell hardly dared to breathe. He was witnessing perhaps the sexiest thing he had ever seen and he feared to break the spell.

Lethelin was the one to end the kiss first, and both women were breathing hard as each settled back on her heels. Mitchell saw Allora lick her lips slowly and then glance up at Mitchell with a grin.

"If we were real siblings," Lethelin said seductively, "I wouldn't be able to do that."

"No," Allora said with a giggle. "No, you would not."

"Something to look forward to if we don't die today," the thief said, before tilting her head up to kiss Mitchell as well.

Mitchell pulled her body hard against his, his passion swelling at the display and he felt Allora's lips on his neck, her hands beginning to wander over his chest. His heart was hammering and he was so excited that he started to feel a little light headed.

"Ahem!"

The three of them jerked, and as Mitchell pulled himself up for air, he saw Gilriel standing there, arms crossed, a look half of amusement and half of frustration on her face.

"You were supposed to be getting ready, Lord Captain. We don't have time for that this morning. Save it for after the battle."

Allora stepped away, her face red.

"Of course, you are right," she said, smoothing her shirt where Mitchell and Lethelin's hands had pulled it up out of place.

"Sorry, Gilriel," Mitchell told her sheepishly. "Just got a little carried away. We'll be ready shortly."

"Mmhmm," the old commander said, then wobbled her head and headed back up the steps.

"Falen will be here soon," Allora reminded them. "We really must hurry."

Lethelin had a look on her face that suggested she was ready to chuck the whole thing and drag them all to bed, but seeing the resolve on Allora's face, she opted for a string of curses instead, and then helped the flushed knight get her armor ready.

"I'll meet you both upstairs," Mitchell said, and took his leave, his mind swimming with possibilities.

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