"That's impossible—"                              

"How could they know—"                         

"There's no way they could get here that fast—"

Myra drowned out the endless panicking voices focusing in on the armada.

"Spies." The single word split through the endless chorus. Silence fell. "That's the only way they would know. Silvera isn't that obvious a choice." The whispers and murmurs began again. She drowned them out, staring out at the coming navy. There had to be a three hundred ships, all armed to the teeth. Maybe two hundred thousand soldiers on them. All of Asriel's defenders were now pitted against them-along with some additions from the army in Kallias. Two hundred fifty in total, if you counted those in Silvera. And they would certainly make all the difference.

They had lost thirty thousand of the original two hundred thousand Kallians, leaving them at one hundred seventy. Where there had once been an additional ten thousand in valkyries, elves and Tarua Teris there were only seven and a half thousand: half of those were lost in the Hawk Mountains, the other half in Topaz, Citrine, Zerena or Azul. In terms of recruits, there were only ten thousand she had deemed good enough to fight, and most were defending the Miras cities.

In short, there wasn't enough to face the Kallians even if this was the last battle and this was all Medea could throw at them. But now...even if by some blessed miracle they won Silvera, they wouldn't be able to afford the death tolls it would bring. Myra drew a shuddering breath. There was no way out of this. No brilliant strategy, no secret tunnels, no perfectly placed geography to save them from the clutches of defeat.

"Retreat." Just like last time, the world seemed to stop and listen. Zara whirled to her, familiar anger flashing in her eyes.         

"We can't just retreat!" She protested. "We've lost so many here already. There's no way we can afford to just throw that away."

"There's no winning this battle," Myra said, shaking her head. "We need to return to Miras and regroup. This has been an expensive mistake, but if we stay any longer, it will be more than expensive. It will destroy us. If we don't leave now not just this will have been for nothing. Everything we've done will have been worthless. We have to cut our losses and leave."

"Um, it's a bit too late for that," Nala interrupted, looking out to the horizon. Myra followed her eye-line to the ships as they spread out and circled their own makeshift armada.          

"We have to break through. Now. Before they can organise properly. Give the order now. Send the wyverns and gryphons out first. See if we can set fire to the ships."
                                
"Too late for that either," Maia said. Myra sighed and glanced back out at the circling armada. A wall of black flame sprouted out from behind them. If the ships weren't enough to keep them trapped, then Medea's shadow flame would make sure they could never escape from the Empress' grip.

Dread gripped her. There was no way of escape. No path to victory. They were well and truly trapped, completely surrounded. Her mind reached endlessly for strategies and ways out and quirks of geography, but there was nothing. Nala, Maia and Talia looked to her hopefully. Even Zara seemed to expect her to come up with some brilliant idea to save them all. But there was nothing. No way out. No stroke of genius. Myra held her hands out. Hopeless, defeated. The Dragon at last cornered.

"So not only do we have a spy in our midst, we're also trapped and outnumbered with no plan whatsoever?" Nala groaned. "If we can get into Silvera, then maybe we can defend from there."

"Right now, we're minutes away from being under fire from a huge navy. We need to be prepared for that." Myra started shouting out orders. "Shields and Telekenetics, defend from enemy fire! FireBreathers and WaterWeavers, prepare to attack the enemy ships! Sailors, move far out of range of Silvera's defenders. We can't fight on both fronts. Gryphons and wyverns in the air, now! Non-flying soldiers at the ready!"

"Myra, what are we going to do about the spy?" Nala interrupted.

"Send the MindWeavers through. Make sure they test each other, too."

"That'll take forever!" She protested. "We don't have that time, Myra."

"You're a spymaster, Nala. I'm putting you in charge of the operation. Also, tell Kestra—" she choked and took a deep breath. "Tell Kestra to keep an eye out for those dreams. And tell her that I love her."

"She told you about the dreams?" Nala asked, surprised.
     
"A mother knows." She replied. "It's been a while since the valkyries had an Oracle. And I think we're going to need one."

————————————————

Kestra

They fled from the armada as long as they could, darting on the waves with the help of WaterWeavers, occasionally slipping into Silvera's range but only for a few moments. Never would they let themselves stay long enough to face their cannons. Whenever Medea's navy caught up with them fleeting, brutal battles would ensure. Wyverns and gryphons tore apart ships with the help of elfin magic. Valkyries and Tarua Teris made themselves useful with rally after rally of arrows to pick off the marines. But no matter what they did, they always lost those skirmishes. Bodies of riders and steeds littered the waters; elves overspent their powers and collapsed on the decks. Cannons tore holes in the ships despite the efforts of Shields. Flaming volleys burned pieces of their makeshift armada before they were put out.

Eventually they would escape by the skin of their teeth. Often they were sped on by WaterWeavers or used the distraction of a particularly harsh attack.Once they skirted near the wall of black flame to ward off pursuers. Two of their remaining thirty ships-thirty still bore scorch marks from some of the closer shaves.

They were fighting a losing battle and they knew it. Constantly on the move and under threat, many hadn't slept in days. Whilst the Empress extended them the courtesy of calling a ceasefire each night-a true sign of how certain of their doom she was-none of them trusted it. Hundreds of sentries waited for a sneak attack and thousands more distrusted the Empress and sentries so much that they kept watch themselves. Everyone was so on edge that about ten false alarms were raised each night. They were wearing thin. Their ships-pockmarked with hasty repairs—were faring little better.

Yet all of this might have been manageable if not for the spy. Neither the MindWeavers' investigation nor Nala's had born any fruit.

With the threat of a mole hanging over their necks, they couldn't come up with any plans else they be used against them. Distrust festered through the camp, from the lowest soldier to the War Council. Tarua Teris were certain it was one of the elves—valkyries had too much of a reputation for truth-telling to be widely suspected. Valkyries were certain it was either an elf or a human. Elves had no doubt it was a human.

And Zara was certain it was Kestra.                 

"She' s started sitting in on our meetings very recently," the elf grumbled.

"That's my daughter you're talking about," Myra said, letting out a low growl but sent even Zara staggering back. "And the Keeper Queen. Chosen by Belle, Elena's sister."               

"Anyone could make a phoenix tattoo," Zara mumbled, but she made sure to say it outside Myra's hearing range.

Kestra meanwhile, didn't care a whit about Zara's insane theories. She was too busy trying to obey her mother's command. But it was hard enough to sleep nowadays.Whenever she did manage one of those vivid dreams they faded away at the sound of an alarm bell.

So on the third night, she went to the makeshift temple of Belle and prayed. Desperately, fervently, for hour after hour she stared at the carving of her her mother's face and begged and begged for help. All she needed was a name. Or failing that, an image. She could always sketch it down later. When she at last faded into sleep-curled up on the cold floor-it was hours before she descended into dreams.

The world was sharp and crystal-clear. She stood on a wasteland, staring out at the emptiness. And slowly, ever so slowly, a figure began to take shape on the ruined plain. Kestra leaned forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the spy's face-

A harsh cry shattered through the dream. Alarms bell rang furiously. The dream long lost, she rushed to the deck with the others, expecting another false alarm.

Her expectations were met. Sighing, she returned to the temple.

————————————————

The night passed without any more dreams. Another followed. By the fifth night, people had more confidence in the truce. Less false alarms came through. Finally, she started to hope that she might manage a full night's sleep. The rudely interrupted dream taunted her. A few more seconds and she might have seen the face of the spy.

After a few more uncomfortable hours, she faded into sleep. Again, the figure materialised. Kestra's heart skipped with hope, peering closer at the person.This time, he or she was made of smoke, slowly gaining colour. She squinted closer, but the figure started fading away. Panicking, she tried to memorise what little she could see of it before the smoke turned to nothing but wisps.

The last thing she saw was a ruined eye, half-covered by a ripped patch.

————————————————

Kestra woke up with a start. The eye-patch, the ruined, scarred eye—Gemma. It was Gemma. Suddenly it all made sense.

Gemma, the only survivor from the ambush. Gemma, who conveniently took over when Rose died. Gemma, who would have known about the Silvera attack weeks in advance. Gemma, who'd tried to take over the investigation herself. Gemma, who'd urged the others to consider an eavesdropper as opposed to a member of the War Council. Gemma, who'd carefully pointed them in the other direction all along.

They were fools not for seeing it. But Kestra had no proof-not yet. Nala and her mother might take a dream and an eyepatch as proof of espionage, but the others wouldn't. To accuse Gemma, she would have to be a whole lot more careful than that. The valkyries might believe her word, but the elves and humans wouldn't. Silently thanking Belle for the dream, she snuck out of the temple to find Nala.

"I can't have her arrested on a dream," Nala said slowly after Kestra had explained everything. "I'll put her on watch. My people can handle this discreetly. But without any solid evidence, there's nothing we can do."

"Which is why I have a plan," Kestra smiled, then told her her idea.

"This is insane." Nala told her, shaking her head. "Your mother will kill me if I do this. It's reckless and dangerous and downright stupid—"

"It's also the only hope we have," Kestra interrupted. "Mum never needs to know. Please, Nala. You know we have to do this." Nala sighed deeply.                              
"Your mother will definitely kill me. And take a burning long time doing it, too."

"Thank you." Kestra grinned. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

————————————————

Nala let her into Gemma's office with a elfin-made key. Kestra quickly thanked her before she snuck inside, searching through documents. A single shred of proof would solve all their problems. She rummaged through letters and sketches of the city.Nothing. Nothing remotely suggesting any betrayal. Footsteps rung through the silence. She drew in a deep breath as the door was flung open.

Gemma walked through into the office. Within a single moment she had drawn a sword. She lunged for Kestra, faster than she thought possible. But she had been waiting for the blow for some time now. She dodged and tipped over a glass to signal Nala.

"What are you doing here?" Gemma growled.     

"You're the spy," Kestra accused, luring her into admission.

"Yes," Gemma replied, smirking. "Such a shame no one's ever going to hear it from your lips." The valkyrie lunged again and Kestra didn't move fast enough this time. A gash opened on her shoulder, blood dripping down her shirt. Come on, Nala, she thought desperately. What are you waiting for? Gemma struck for her again and she felt a sting on her arm. She was running now, losing ground, about to pushed against the wall—

Nala emerged from the door and struck at Gemma with the pommel of her sword-only to miss. Kestra screamed. She wasn't meant to miss. There was no way Nala could face off against a valkyrie general. It was meant to be over quickly, cleanly. Gemma would be knocked unconscious after Kestra and Nala had heard her confession. If anyone needed more proof than their word, MindWeavers were available.

Footsteps thundered from the top of the ship. They were too distant. It seemed impossible that they'd get there in time. Gemma struck out, aiming for Nala. The chancellor barely blocked her blow. They began a strange dancing war, Nala losing more and more ground as Gemma struck again and again. Kestra stood there, helpless. What could she do? She had no weapon, no fighting ability—

Her eyes caught on the book on Gemma's desk. She lunged for it and threw it at the general. A dull thud rewarded her. The valkyrie let out a cry of pain and anger. Nala used the opportunity to push her back, gaining distance between herself and the wall. Practically spitting with anger, Gemma lunged wildly at the chancellor, who let out a pained scream as red coloured her shirt. The general grinned wildly and let out a series of quick blows. Nala barely dodged them and within moments she was pinned against the wall, barely blocking a flurry of blows.

Myra and Talia burst through the door and took in the scene. In two quick moves, the former disarmed Gemma and Nala.             

"What is going on?" Myra ground out.              

"I found her trying to kill Kestra," Nala replied. Technically true.

"She's lying," Gemma spat back. "She attacked me."  

"Talia?" Myra asked. "Check their sto—"

Gemma didn't give them a chance. She lunged for the fallen sword and struck straight at Myra. It missed by a hairsbreadth. This time Gemma expected the return blow and blocked it before feinting to the left and lunging for the right. Myra blocked both easily and began a series of swift blows. Kestra drew in a breath as the two began a beautiful, silent war. Talia scrunched her forehead in concentration, but nothing seemed to come of it. Nala and Kestra were both similarly helpless. They couldn't join the battle without risking hurting Myra. The two warriors simply moved too fast.

Kestra screamed as Myra let her guard down on the left. Gemma saw it too and struck. But the Dragon only grinned at her and dodged with practiced ease. Her opponent figured out the deception too late and barely had time to scream as Myra's blade sank into her shoulder. Her mother backed away, sorrowful as she saw the blood pooling on Gemma's shoulder. No one but she would have understood why. Her mother had never truly hurt a valkyrie. They were her people. Her kin. Betrayal didn't change that.

A sharp crack echoed through the air. Kestra started. Another crack followed. She turned to see wisps of shadow—a sliver-crawl out of Gemma's head and lunge for Myra. She screamed again, this time in warning-goddesses above, her mouth hurt from all this shrieking-

Nala squashed the sliver with her foot and scowled.

"Get Gemma to the infirmary. Medea was probably controlling her through it. She's not a traitor after all."                  

"When could she have been exposed to it?" Myra wondered. "She'd never have been close to a conduit in any of the cities we attacked-"  

"The Hawk Mountains," Nala explained. "That's how she escaped. They let her, knowing that she would be their source of information on the inside. It's possible it lurked in her mind for days without her knowing about it. It's certainly possible.Lysandra told me all about the slivers."

"Is she going to live?" Myra asked the elfin healer who rushed into the room The man only shook his head at her and shrugged.  

"I don't know."

————————————————

Talia

They gathered around the hospital bed, waiting for Gemma to wake up. She was still in a critical condition-the blow to her shoulder had gone deep-but she was alive. Nala had examined her as much as she could. There didn't seem to be any sign of slivers or mind-control, but they would still keep a close eye on her. Slivers were still a mystery to even the Empress. Who knew what she could do with them?

After about five hours, Gemma's eye flew open. Myra smiled in relief. "Don't get up too quickly. You're still critical, but we think you're going to make it.We know it was the sliver, and it's long gone now-"

"Layla," Gemma rasped out. "Layla."

A horrible din of silence fell over Talia. No. No. No, it couldn't be. She couldn't lose another person. She rushed through the ships before Myra or the others could even take in Gemma's words. Rooms flashed before her eyes. People whirled around to watch her sprint down the stairs and past the endless cabins. Everything was distant. All that mattered was the passing numbers, the distance between her and Layla, those terrible words that Gemma had rasped out on the hospital bed.

She reached Layla's cabin. The two guards posted outside were lying in their own pools of blood. Her door was flung open—and Layla was gone.