The interior of the house had taken serious damage, but outside, the scene looked downright apocalyptic. Trees had been downed, and wide, deep cracks ran in the earth across the clearing. Most of the gatekeeper’s cottage had crumbled to rubble. The gate pillars themselves, at the border of the road, had toppled over.

Morgan knelt outside, hands planted flat on the ground, while Hounds kept watch in a circle around the house. Nikolas checked the sun’s position. He guessed it was late morning. It looked like the bastard hadn’t taken a break in three days.

Nikolas said over his shoulder to Sophie, “You’re not going to like what he’s done to the rest of your property either.”

“Goddammit! I haven’t even gotten the title documents yet!” she wailed around a mouthful of food.

She joined him at the window, carrying a half-eaten protein bar in one hand and a bottle of black water in the other. She had changed her blood-soaked sweater for a clean, long-sleeved, gray cotton shirt. As he watched, she shook the bottle of water, uncapped it, and took a long swig while she glared out the window.

Distracted by the sight, he curled a lip in disgust. “You’re drinking cold, instant black coffee.”

“It’s caffeine and hydration,” she muttered. “I’m still on my feet, aren’t I? Besides, I didn’t feel comfortable lighting one of the propane stoves.”

“Good point.” Squeezing her arm, he turned to face the great hall.

Soldiers poured in.

“Archers to the front,” he said. Four women and three men stepped forward. He told them, “We’re not going to make the same mistake we made the last time we fought on this land. We concentrate everything we have on bringing Morgan down. The Hounds might be dangerous, but they’re incidental.”

Cramming the last of the protein bar into her mouth, Sophie turned to listen. When he paused, she said telepathically, Every good magic user I’ve ever known has some version of an avert spell for defense. And clearly Morgan is one hell of a magic user.

He raised an eyebrow. Your point?

Well, you don’t want to just shoot at him, right? She drank the last of her coffee. You want to take out his magic too.

He said out loud, “The null spell. We need the null spell on as many arrows as we can get. How much magic-sensitive silver do you have?”

“Not enough to spell all their arrows,” she said grimly, gesturing to the group. “I was on vacation. Choose your best archers, and we’ll go from there.”

While Nikolas prioritized the group, Sophie retrieved her luggage and pulled out a small package. She called out to the gathering crowd, “Gawain?”

“Right here, lass.” Gawain shouldered through to her.

“Did you get metal-making tools for me?”

“We didn’t have time.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Okay. Doesn’t matter. This doesn’t have to be pretty. We’re going to need to light a propane stove after all and use one of the cooking pots. All we have to do is get the silver melted enough to dip the tips of the arrows in it, and then we can cast the spell.”

“Got it.”

As they set to work, Nikolas organized others to shift the supplies, along with the fallen timbers and stones, into the side halls to make more room for arriving troops. They weren’t going to get all four hundred and fifty into the great hall, but if the troops stood shoulder to shoulder, they could get most of them in. The rest would have to line up back in the courtyard.

“Watch out for the painted lines!” he called out to the workers. “They mark time-space shifts. There’s a shift along one side of the courtyard too—Rhys, go back there and make sure people know to avoid it.”

“I’m on it.” Rhys worked his way to the back.

Annwyn appeared at Nikolas’s side. She stared at the Mini and the Harley for a long moment and took a breath as if she meant to ask a question. But then, in the next moment, she seemed to think better of it, for she shook her head and let it go.

“How many have come through?” he asked.

“Close to three hundred,” she told him.

Nodding, he strode to Gawain and Sophie, where they bent over a small propane stove set on the dining table. He asked, “What do you have?”

As he spoke, another low rumble started. This time it rose and rose, and a sharp crack sounded overhead. Immediately Gawain doused the flame while Nikolas lunged forward to cover Sophie’s head and shoulders with his, and people swore and crowded as close as they could to the walls.

For a long moment everyone in the great hall held tense and still as they waited, but nothing fell. Then Sophie said in a cranky, muffled voice from underneath him, “We’ll get you ten spelled arrows as soon as you get off me. Any minute now.”

With a growl, he expelled a sharp breath and rubbed his face in her hair.

Crazy. She made him crazy. Somehow in spite of that, he was more in love with her than ever.

Straightening, he said to everybody, “Get back to work.”

Activity resumed. Gawain lit the propane stove again, and he and Sophie went back to spelling arrows. Annwyn joined them and said, “I don’t think this old place can take much more.”

“I don’t either,” Nikolas told her. “Soon as Gawain and Sophie are done, we’ll make our move.”

“We’re done,” Gawain said. He doused the flame again, and he and Sophie sat back. She handed Nikolas two fistfuls of arrows.