The ink on the big parchment glistened in the candlelight, so fresh that Darlac was almost afraid to touch it. Hazel had worked on the prototype map all night long, and by the time of the war council, there even were copies to distribute among the leaders. Darlac's question about the origin of all that topographical information went unanswered, except for a nervous tick in the corner of Hazel's eye and an embarrassed blush on Guelder's face. She could tell the baroness had gathered intel in some untraditional way once again, either by taking drugs or by communing with a blue tit or a purple worm or whatnot, freaking Hazel out, as was her custom. But Darlac was not one to complain, as long as she had reliable information to work with, and Guelder's alternative methods never failed to deliver.

  Darlac and the outstanding troops under the dual banners of the union, the yellow-and-brown colours of Nightvale mounted above the orange-and-blue of Varnhold, had arrived late last night at Tatzlford and joined the rest of the army in the spacious camp outside the palisade surrounding the settlement. Being spared from the necessity of building their own camp, Darlac had put the moonlit night to good use and sent two dozen soldiers across the river to start building a fortified foothold on the west bank, and at the first rays of dawn, she'd launched a scouting mission. There was no time to waste.

  Suddenly becoming Acting Vice-General of Nightvale had been a thrilling but also frightening development. Apparently, Guelder regarded Darlac as some sort of saviour, the only competent military leader around who knew exactly what to do in a war situation. This recognition of her modest abilities felt like a drop of soothing balm on Darlac's aching heart, still raw from the breakup with Maegar and a hundred other issues – as did the warm welcome from the baroness in front of the gates, including an unexpected, affectionate hug. It made Darlac feel giddy whenever she thought of it, and that happened more often than she cared to admit.

  On the flip side, Guelder's commission pushed Darlac onto a path she wasn't sure she would have taken of her own free will. Turning against the conqueror of her homeland was now out of the question. Guelder trusted her, needed her, and refusal would amount to a betrayal of her allies Iomedae (and her own conscience) would not look kindly upon. Now Darlac had no choice but to abandon her escape plans, shoulder the responsibility and live up to Guelder's somewhat unreasonable expectations. For all her lofty military titles, she'd never controlled an entire army in a live situation before. She'd better not mess this up. If she did, not even the crusade would be able to redeem her.

  She returned her attention to the map. A striped river pebble marked the fortified camp of the Tiger Lords in the northern part of the Flintrock Grassland. An unripe berry represented the Aldori camp in the southwest. A bit to the southeast, at a distance suggesting mutual distrust and suspicion, lay the camp of the Surtova forces, King Noleski's contribution to Jamandi's war effort, marked by a wilted mushroom. And farther out in the plains, away from the would-be battlefield, stood a lonely mound, represented by a gold piece, that was supposed to be the resting-place of an important artifact. It was a mystery how Guelder had learnt about that without ever using the Oculus of Abaddon.

  As her own contribution to the map, Darlac scattered a handful of small blobs of wool between their foothold under construction (marked by a fish scale) and the enemy base.

  "The way to the battlefield is everything but clear," she announced. "The Tiger Lords seem to be expecting our arrival. Shamans have been deployed behind the lines, summoning air elementals and using them to block any path between our foothold and the Flintrock Grassland, cutting off the Brevans from any succour they might get from Nightvale."

  "Air elementals?" echoed Sotha Aldori, biting her lower lip.

  "Think miniature tornadoes. One of my scouts was brought back with a broken skull after running into one. If we want to cut our way through them, we need to get creative. So... ideas, please."

  Her gaze swept across the others around the table, and rested upon Hazel, for no particular reason.

  "Do not look at me like that," protested the ranger. "Just because I was struck by lightning as a child and lived, that does not mean I am the go-to person on all things weather!"

  "Easy as pie," said Hilla the Toothgrinder, now in paid service of Varnhold (with Guelder's retroactive consent). "We have to hunt down the shamans. No summoner, no summoned. In this way, there will be less of them to mess with the weather during the big battle, too. Also, most of them are assholes."

  "You have a point, Hilla," said Darlac, "except it won't be easy. The whole point of summoning creatures is to hide behind them while they do the dirty work for you. I'm looking to dispatch a few smaller units to take care of the shamans, but in the meantime, our army or at least the vanguard must proceed towards the Grassland, protected from the elementals. How can we manage that?"

  "Sable, I am laying my hopes in you," said the baroness, deep in thought, her soft fingertips tapping on the table. "Something tells me we druids could come up with something ingenious, but alas, I am more at home with plants and animals than with weather phenomena. So take this with a grain of salt. Do you think surrounding the army with treant sentries holding onto each other would offer enough protection from those whirlwinds?"

  Sable shook her head vigorously, her long braid bouncing about.

  "That would be an awful lot of treants to control, Your Grace. But... I think I have an idea. Considering that your rule didn't harm Nature so far as much as it could have, perhaps Gozreh will allow us to tap into Their power for your sake."

  Darlac felt relieved that the noise of her soldiers chopping down trees on the other bank didn't carry to this side of the river. The last thing she needed was an angry druid in her hair, perhaps literally.

  "What do you have in mind?" asked Guelder.

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  "If I send my brethren back to Oakstand Grove to bring our idol here, and if I can get a couple more druids involved, we could attempt to make our own whirlwind. One that encompasses either the entire army or at least the vanguard, for as long as it marches through the elemental-infested area, blocking, scattering or even absorbing the elementals that get in its way. Mind you, I never tried this before, but it might be worth a shot!"

  "Madness," muttered Sotha Aldori under her breath. "This is even crazier than... never mind."

  "I like this," countered Darlac. "A bulky vanguard clears the way under the whirlwind's protection, sweeping away the elementals, and if the situation warrants, it can engage straight away upon arrival. Meanwhile the shaman-hunting taskforce takes out the summoners, letting the rest of the army follow, along with the baggage. This part will be able to join the battle in a second wave, replacing the vanguard, if necessary. How many druids do you need for that, Sable?"

  "Thirteen, at least. The more, the better. I can mobilise..." Sable began counting on her fingers. "Eight, including myself. Adding Her Grace and the woodpecker girl... Ten is the best we can do. But if I can get a day..."

  "I don't think you can, Sable. We're running late. Make do with ten... or nine, in case Her Grace is needed elsewhere."

  "Wait," piped up Linzi on Guelder's right, placing her quill back into the inkwell. "The transcription says... Ow!" The halfling yelped in pain, as if she'd been kicked on the shin under the table. But why would the baroness do such a thing?

  Anyway, Hazel was quick to snatch the word away from her.

  "Linzi is right. There is a druid grove... here." They plopped a leaf on the map at a spot due east of the Grassland.

  "I can send Faeli over to ask them for support," offered Darlac.

  "Brilliant!" exclaimed Guelder. "What is the biggest bird form Faeli can take?"

  "Eagle, I think."

  "What kind of eagle?"

  Darlac sighed in despair. Why did druids always expect exhaustive knowledge of nature lore from mere mortals like herself?

  "Big, brown, grumpy... How should I know?"

  Sable threw back her head and roared with laughter. Hazel suppressed their mirth into a snort, and Guelder flashed a warm, amused smile. After a moment of hesitation, figuring out whether to get offended, Darlac saw it better to laugh (or at least smile) with them. After all, it was no secret that she didn't know her birds.

  "That will do," said the baroness. "A big, brown, grumpy eagle will surely be able to carry a passenger."

  "WHAT?" screamed Hazel. "You are not serious, Guel, are you?"

  "And why not?" said Sable. "How did you think I'd bring in reinforcements from Oakstand within a few hours? Just make sure to use your smallest Wild Shape, Your Grace, and you're golden."

  "Sounds like a plan," said Darlac. "I mean, Her Grace has more chance to recruit the druids in person than through a much less significant colleague of hers from another country... well, what used to be another country. I support the idea."

  She held Guelder's gaze, silently daring her. Travelling on eagle wings would be a tale worthy of Linzi's quill, and she could tell it would push Guelder's limits something hard. Even if it didn't deal considerable damage to her pride, seeing the world from above the first time would surely be scary enough. Not many people had Darlac's resilience when it came to heights.

  Guelder rose to the challenge, a naughty little smirk tugging at her lips.

  "By the storms," sighed Hazel, hiding their face in their palms. "A bunch of madwomen egging each other on. There goes my peace of mind for today."

  Sotha scooted closer to them, whispering words of comfort. That one didn't look like the foolhardy type. Darlac considered putting her in charge of the baggage train.

  "Reach out to me with a Sending," said the baroness, "and I will share my results, so you can plan your next steps accordingly. Mind you, I cannot answer while I am shapeshifted. Wish me luck."

  She left the tent to find Faeli and get her on board with her plan. As the flap fell back behind her, Hazel's dark eyes found Darlac.

  "If she comes to any harm, it will be your fault."