The aircraft descended through the rain, rotors slicing through the downpour as the fortress of Ravenhold grew larger beneath them. The stench of blood and wet fur hit Anastasia first, then the sound: the ceaseless roar of beasts, the cracked gunfire, the shouted commands of officers trying to hold the line.
Edward stepped off first, his boots splashing into a puddle of rainwater and something darker. He didn't flinch. He'd been doing this for years.
"This way," he said, gesturing for Anastasia to follow. "Rerick's on the eastern rampart. He arrived just before dawn."
Anastasia fell into step beside him, her eyes scanning the walls as they walked. Every few feet, there was a fresh spray of blood, a discarded rifle, a soldier being dragged toward the medical tents.
"You lose this many every day?" she asked, keeping her voice even.
"Some days are worse."
They climbed a set of stone stairs slick with rain, emerging onto the eastern rampart.
