Their forces numbered almost seventy thousand altogether-eleven thousand elves, fifty thousand valkyries and around eight thousand rebels. Still, they managed to move swiftly across the coast, almost undetected.

Her people knew the coast well enough to hide amongst trees and on the beaches. Kazimiar was closest to Crimsith, about a quarter of the way between the capital and Cobalt. It was a glorified holiday home for the Empress and her court, for when they wanted to escape the capital or send their sons and daughters to get a good education. Though apparently the valkyries would laugh at what the Kallians considered a good education.

Merely weeks ago, Nala had been there for the Chancellor's funeral. At the time she had hoped to see something of Tarua Teris' spirit and hope amongst the coastal city, but she had seen nothing. It was simply a nest for the spoilt children of the Crimsith Court with talented artists trying to scrape out a living and get into the universities and academies that dotted Kazimiar. We'll change that, Nala promised. We'll change it all. Kazimiar-no, we'll call it Tarua Teris, like it was before-as our capital, Crimsith burnt to the ground.

Everything could be different. They could rebuild it all.

The plans for the attack had been decided that morning. With nobles already fled and their personal guards with them, their operatives could take the rest through the tunnels, open the gates, destroy the guardhouses and take the town hall within minutes. The only reason they hadn't done so already was because they could not hold the city. They couldn't afford a quick victory. This needed to be a diversion, a battle that was meant to last until tomorrow night, when the valkyries struck. So, they would draw it out.

Instead of going through the tunnels the majority of their army would attack the gates whilst a small number-including her-went through the tunnels for the real attack. The battle going on at the gates would continue for the whole day, misleading Medea into thinking she still had time before the attack on her capital. But as soon as the valkyries reached Crimsith, those inside the city would claim it within half an hour.

Nala mourned for the lives they would lose to the diversion, but they had no choice. This would save far more in the end, and the rebels who laid down their lives for a chance to take the empress by surprise were there willingly, proud to fight and die for hope of a better world. If only Jasper could be the same, she thought bitterly to herself. If Jasper had rung the bell. What would she have done if that future had come to be? Her husband and friends would have lived, and her nephew would have died a hero. Was that better than what she had now: the love of her life dead and her best friends in whatever other world there might be, her nephew disgraced for his cowardice? At least he was alive. But Peter wasn't, and that would always be his fault.

They reached Kazimiar and breathed sighs of relief, glad that they had made it there in time. Everything about the diversion relied on when the sun rose and set. They came to Kazimiar as dusk fell, and the valkyries sneaked off in the dark whilst the rebels attacked. By the time Myra and her army reached the capital night would mask their arrival.

It was strange, given that Viktoria was the War Queen, that Nala always thought of the army as Myra's. But that was what everyone did. The Dragon was far more famous than her mentor would ever be.

How did Jasper end up at her side? she wondered, when her anger had cooled. How did my son earn his place beside the deadliest person I've ever met? Those were questions for later. For now, Tarua Teris would take back the city that the chancellor before her had loved so well.Nala sent nine thousand of her ten to attack the gates, with orders to draw out their victory. Even though they had been instructed not to take risks and be careful with each and every life, she still felt a pang of regret at the thought of using them as a mere distraction. But it was necessary, she reminded herself.

The Empress had to be verifiably dead for any of them to sleep at night.

They had made contact with the operatives deep inside Kazimiar easily, and over the past few days they had been preparing. Tarua Teris had an endless network that stretched across the entire empire-it was what had made them so formidable. They had agents in every coastal city, sympathisers and warriors in every southern town. The Midlands were filled to the brim with people who carried messages and supplies between the two halves of Tarua Teris. All of this made Kazimiar easy to infiltrate.

Their first priority had been getting a thousand of Nala's best within the walls. This was where the irony had come in and exploded in the Empress' face. There were several siege tunnels designed to ferry supplies undetected should the city ever come under siege, and with a few bribes to the right people, the rebels could get into the city through those very tunnels. Afterwards, the grounds for the attack were laid: explosives were planted in important targets and less significant buildings alike, to create the panic, fear and confusion that Nala and her team would need.

The highly guarded council hall in the centre of the small city was still hard for them to sneak inside, but that was what a hundred of her best assassins, soldiers and bombers were for. The councillors and the mayor-chosen by the Empress-would find themselves swarmed by the rebels they had stolen the city from. They would be introduced to insurgent swords and then the explosives would all go off across the city, Nala's soldiers would strike unflinchingly. Chaos would greet Kazimiar, and from the ashes, Tarua Teris would rise and be reborn.

At least, that had been her speech. Right now, Nala felt unenthusiastic, likely because she still couldn't sort out how she felt about her nephew.

In the dark siege tunnels, and wearing dark armour, it was hard to see any of the comrades she had grown to know and rely on. This was a good thing, she reminded herself. Shadows would be their friends tonight, despite Medea's powers.Still, she was relieved when the tunnels finally ended, and she found herself in Kazimiar. Usually

the city would be alight, despite the coming night, but everyone was inside, their lights long snuffed out. At least they had some sense, then.

Their orders already given, Nala's comrades split up and went their separate ways. The largest group was headed for the council hall, and she would go with it. Even though she was primarily a spymaster, she had a knack for assassination. Melissa and Pelor, the other two assassins, followed in her wake as she scaled the buildings closest to the council hall. The streetlights nearby were a problem, the sole light on Kazimiar's streets. But all of them were trained to move with the shadows, so the lights did nothing but slow them down.

Nala was constantly aware of the guards watching the hall and slid out of the view as they approached. She closed her eyes as she steadied herself on the final roof, then took a breath.

Giving the signal to the others, she leapt, pushing herself off the ground with all the strength she had. Her feet slammed onto the roof of the council hall, the tiles almost cracking under her weight. Quickly, she scanned the night sky for Melissa and Pelor, who each landed seconds after her. They each slid down different parts of the roof, intent on different targets. For Melissa and Pelor, it was the mayor's inner circle. For her it was the Empress' puppet, Mayor West, himself.Nala reached for the windowsill and held on tightly, carefully prying open the window. It made a soft creak but nothing more, and she slid into the room. It was just a storage closet, not her target's bedroom, but it was a perfect point of entry into the hall. With stealth that she had been trained with for years, she kept her footsteps quiet as she slid out of the closet and into the empty hall. Even though it was an hour past dusk, it was around one in the morning. Midnight was the typical sunset during the height of summer in the desert.

One of the servants, still working at this late hour, walked through the corridor and Nala slid easily into the shadows and waited for her to pass. The plans of the hall were as familiar to her as the back of her hand, the information leaking to them through a spy posing an aide. It was simple to navigate the building designed to confuse would-be assassins and she soon found herself entering the mayor's room.

It took her seconds to kill him, swiftly and cleanly. Quietly, she wished that his death could have been far more drawn out. Before West had become mayor, he was known for handing out loans to desperate students and artists who he knew would never pay him back. With the judges in his pocket and the police on his side, he had taken everything they owned.

Nala was back on the roof when she heard the cries of murder ring through the air. Melissa and Pelor had emerged as well; their targets silent as grave in the hall beneath them. Together they climbed the walls of the tallest building close enough to the town hall and watched as chaos unfolded. The others in their group stormed the hall and the guards fell, one by one, to the well-trained soldiers of Tarua Teris. Seconds after they had claimed the hall and shouted their triumph to the skies, explosions went off all across the city.

Lucky timing for them. Nala, Melissa and Pelor stalked the roofs of the chaotic city, ready to come to the aid of their comrades. They moved swift as death throughout the twisting streets, searching for a fight. Hungry for one.

The three assassins drew their blades, climbed down the walls and began to bring chaos down on Kazimiar.

              ------------

The night was a hungry, brutal creature that begged for blood.

Nala wrapped herself in it, taking vengeance for Tarua Teris' fall decades ago.

They did not hurt the innocents, the Kallians just like them, or the ones who were conscripted, who surrendered and then joined them.

But there were so many brutal guards and sentries, so many killing for the crown.Nala and her men cut them down like stalks of wheats as the city let out its final pained cries.

By the time dawn came the chaos still reigned, but this time it was plain to see. It would have been easy to destroy Kazimiar last night. They had had the city by the neck-it would have been a simple, swift movement to snap it. This fight, though, had to be dragged on for as long as they could. They held the centre of the city-today, they would branch out, and by tonight, the gates would fall.

That would mark Tarua Teris' victory-the fall of Kazimiar and the rebirth of the city that started it all. It would begin a new era, a phoenix rising from the ashes. But when the valkyries marched on Crimsith it would not signify victory. The city would not become another's capital-it would burn. Nala's flag of victory would rise, and Myra's flag of vengeance would be plain to see atop a ruined capital.

She fought on, despite her limbs begging her to stop. The heat rose as it reached midday and she sweated in her black armour. As the battle progressed, Kazimiar became more a wasteland than a city, a boiling clutter of bodies and ruins. Without the cover of night, they fought for every inch of land, spiderwebbing further and further to the edges of the city.

Nala was weary when it came to the end of it all, as dusk swept over the city. When the sun had set, she gave the signal to Pelor and he nodded. After tampering with his gear for a few seconds he at last gave her a triumphant nod. The sky glittered with harmless fireworks, a signal to every rebel in the city to converge.

The plans had been gone over a hundred times, and everyone had memorised them, so they all went without a word: a thousand or so men and women running over rooftops and through streets, intent on the city gates. None of the guards interfered with them, knowing all too well that a few of them against thousands would mean utter defeat. They all gathered to the gates instead, sending messages out. Nala and her thousand would have to outrun them then.

Tarua Teris reached the gates and slammed into the guards at the gate, or what was left of it. There must have been seven hundred in total, and even on their home ground the rebellion slaughtered them. A couple were spies themselves, and quickly turned against their comrades, and Nala's rebels were far better trained then the bored sentries. Within a few minutes they had reached the gates, bodies sprawled in their wake. The survivors unleashed cries of victory as Nala pried upon the gates and nine thousand insurgents flooded into the city.

Kazimiar was theirs, but all she could think of was the boy sitting in the city that the valkyries had already taken.