CHAPTER 81

“One hundred thousand,” Ren breathed,
warming his hands before the roaring fire in
the Great Hall. They had lost two of the Silent
Assassins to Morath archers seeking
retaliation for the destruction of the witch
towers, but no more than that, mercifully.
Still, the evening meal had been somber.
No one had really eaten, not when darkness
had fallen and the enemy campfires ignited.
More than they could count.
Aedion had lingered here after everyone
else had trudged to their own beds. Only Ren
had remained, Lysandra escorting a still-