Nala felt like a sore thumb amongst the mismatched group of valkyrie miners and warriors. She had to be the only human there. A couple of alarms had almost gone off already when one of freed valkyries saw her and started panicking.

To be honest, she wasn't sure why she had gone in the first place. Kestra had insisted, given it was her idea, but this was a valkyrie mission, to save valkyrie miners. She had no place here. Not as they made a ceremony of sealing off the mines. Not as they prayed to their three goddesses. Not as they imprisoned the overseers that begged at her feet.

She'd given Kestra the credit for the successful reclaiming of the mountain.

"It would do more for the cause as your success than it would if it was mine," Nala had told her, despite the young queen's protests.

It was because she was so out of place-and unwanted-that she decided to take the scouting mission. Getting out of the camp for a while would do her good.

Though she would never admit it, walking through the 'burning' forest was terrifying. The illusion was so thorough, so perfect, that she flinched as the flames seemed to reach out to grab her and breathed a sigh of relief every time a rogue spark turned to steam in the freezing river.

"It won't hurt," the MindWeaver assured her. "You won't feel anything, actually. It'll be just like you're walking through a burnt forest. Don't worry." If she heard someone else say don't worry, she was going to reach for their throats. How did they expect her to not worry when she was walking into what looked all the world like flame? Her kind loved fire, but not this much.

She took a deep breath and walked into fire. Nothing. Nala felt nothing at all. A few valkyries were staring at her open-mouthed.

"I guess this must look pretty extraordinary," she said to herself. "A human woman, walking through flames." The thought made her slightly giddy.

"Good luck," the MindWeaver smiled, and she disappeared into the burning forest. Boiling suns, this was strange.

She slid through the forest, quiet as a mouse. The illusionist would stop her being seen but didn't have the power to stop her being heard. If anyone

noticed her...everything would be ruined. They would have to flee the mines, and many, so many, wouldn't be able to be evacuated. Nala emerged from the forest and the flames and nearly screamed.

In a perfect semicircle around the burning forest, thousands of black-uniformed soldiers surrounded them, from the edges of each sheer cliff-like mountain. There was no way out. They can't know the flames aren't real, Nala thought desperately. They can't.

Then, on the far edge of the circle, a soldier stepped into the burning ring of trees and staggered back, grinning in relief. Utterly unburned.

She went as quickly as she could without making a noise through the forest, fear a constant second heartbeat. Oh, suns. None of them were emerging from those mines alive.

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"We have to evacuate," Kestra said, shaking.

"There's no way," Nala muttered. "The mountains are at our backs, the soldiers everywhere else."

"We're not dead yet," Kestra yelled. "Are you certain they know the flames aren't real?"

"Yes," Nala snapped. "I know what I saw. We can't fight them either: there are thousands, and we're cornered."

"End the illusion," Kestra sighed. "We'll need the MindWeavers at as much strength as they can be."

"Already on it," Nala told her tiredly. "They're the only elves we have."

"If we die, then who is left?" Kestra asked.

"Tarua Teris. Three hundred valkyrie warriors; a few hundred novices. The Second Army. The Silver Guard and Court." Nala said dully. "Against the whole Empire. We need every soldier we have. The rebellion will die out if we lose the five hundred here and the healers as well. Not to mention, Tarua Teris loses its leader and the valkyries lose theirs. Unless Rose returns."

"How many soldiers were there again?" Kestra asked hoarsely.

"Five thousand. Against five hundred valkyrie warriors." In the army of old, when the term warrior meant more than it did today, they might have stood a chance. But many were fourteen or fifteen, and not as thoroughly trained or experienced as the warrior of Myra's army. They would be slaughtered.

"Wait," Nala blurted. "The MindWeavers-they can send a message to someone. Anyone. We can contact the others. Even Lysandra."

"No one can get here in time," Kestra replied desolately. "No one."

"Nobody is coming to save us."