Clovelle came back on the third evening, as she had said she would.
She came over the north rise alone, folding the ground in long tired steps. Marcus had stayed behind in Brightwater. She walked straight to Ainen's fire and sat down in the grass before anyone could ask her anything.
"They know," she said. "All of them. Kael's got the hunters out every day, bringing in parts. The Empress has Skytheum sleeping in shifts. Silvester's training anyone who can hold a stick."
She took the bowl Ainen gave her. "Callum sent word from Westhollow. He's keeping his people in, but he's sending forty fighters. They'll be there in eight days."
"Eight's too late," said Big D.
"I told him." Clovelle drank. "He said forty late is better than forty never."
Big D did not argue with that.
They left at first light.
