“The Skojare are good people, and they deserve a strong King.” Mikko stood up straighter. “I must become that King for them.”

I smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” he said. “I know things with your kingdom have become a terrible mess, but I want you to know that you are always welcome here. As far as I’m concerned, you have a home here in Storvatten.”

A footman came running around the corner, going so fast he skidded on the floor. He caught himself, then raced toward us. As soon as he saw the King, he started yelling, “Sire! Sire!”

“What?” Mikko turned back to face him. “What’s the matter?”

The footman reached us, gasping for breath. “The . . . they sent me to get you.” He paused, gulping down air. “There’s an army waiting at the door for you.”

FORTY-NINE

unannounced

Mikko was about to go to the door by himself, but I ran back into the ballroom and grabbed Baltsar and Ridley. I wasn’t about to let the King get himself killed when the Skojare had just gotten him back.

Konstantin and Tilda stayed back with the troops, preparing to command them if they needed to. The hope was that since the army had come to the door, they wanted to have some kind of sit-down with Mikko. Maybe he’d even be able to sway them away from battle and come to some sort of compromise.

That seemed unlikely, but at this point it appeared to be our only hope to avoid massive bloodshed.

Before I left, following Ridley and Baltsar behind the King, Konstantin grabbed my arm.

“Do not leave the King alone with her,” he warned in a low voice, referring to Mina. “She’ll kill him the second she has the chance.”

“I won’t.” I started to turn away, but Konstantin still hung on to my arm, so I looked back at him.

“Be careful,” he said and finally released me.

I ran out after the King. He, Ridley, and Baltsar were walking quickly and purposefully toward the front door. Baltsar was talking to Mikko, telling him everything that he should do and say, and what response he advised based on what the leader of the army might say to him.

“What should we do?” I asked Ridley in a hushed voice as I fell in step beside him.

“Try not to let the King get killed, and try not to get killed ourselves.” He glanced down at me. “That’s the best I’ve got.”

We reached the front hall, and I was doing my best to slow the racing of my heart. Seven guards—veteran ones who had been working around the palace and not training—stood at attention around the hall. Their hands were on their swords, ready to act if they needed to.

If Mina and Viktor had sent their full army, it didn’t matter if the entire Skojare force were in the hall. They weren’t ready, and they’d be slaughtered.

Ridley and I flanked the King on either side, while Baltsar went to open the large front door. Mikko stood tall with his head high, and it was definitely a good choice to release him from the dungeon. He was far more intimidating than Marksinna Lisbet.

Baltsar looked back at us, making sure we were ready, and the King nodded. So Baltsar opened the door.

Standing right outside on the dock was a small hobgoblin, maybe three feet tall. In some ways, hobgoblins were like miniature ogres, except that they were far more symmetrical in appearance. His features were humanoid, but his skin appeared slimy, with thick grayish brown hair sticking up wildly on his head. Like ogres, hobgoblins were insanely strong.

I’d met hobgoblins before, and I realized that I’d actually met this one in particular. He was Ludlow Svartalf, the right-hand man of Sara Elsing, the Queen of the Vittra. He’d accompanied her on trips to the palace in Doldastam before.

Just to the right and slightly behind him stood Finn Holmes, offering us an uneasy smile.

Standing behind both Finn and Ludlow were rows of troops, lined up down the dock. Most of them wore the dark emerald uniforms of the Trylle, but a fair amount had the deep burgundy uniforms of the Vittra, worn by both hobgoblin and troll alike.

“Queen Wendy Staad of the Trylle heard about the plight of Skojare, and after considering it, she decided to send half of her army to aid you in your fight against the Kanin,” Finn explained.

“In addition, Queen Wendy and King Loki persuaded Queen Sara Elsing of the Vittra to join in the fight,” Ludlow added in his low, craggy voice. “Queen Sara has sent a third of her army to join your fight.”

Mikko appeared too stunned to speak for a moment, but finally he managed to say, “I am forever grateful for your offers, but I am not sure that I can ever repay your kingdoms. We are not in a position to indebt ourselves so greatly to such powerful kingdoms.”

“We are not asking for anything in return,” Finn told him. “We are simply here to help you as you may need us.”

“We are here to serve, King Mikko,” Ludlow said, and he bowed before him. Finn followed suit, as did the troops on the dock—all of them bowing before the Skojare King.

FIFTY

masquerade

We need to celebrate!” Linnea declared. “We’re not all going to die, and if that doesn’t call for a celebration, then I don’t know what does!”

It was hard to argue with that logic, so I didn’t even try, and neither did Mikko.

Since the Trylle and the Vittra had pledged their allegiance and a chunk of their soldiers to us yesterday, we had spent the entire time trying to combine our armies. It required more effort because each of the tribes had such different strengths.

Many of the Trylle had powers of psychokinesis, meaning they could move things with their minds or even start fires. Since the soldiers present were all lower-ranking trackers and civilians (and stronger abilities went along with the more powerful bloodlines of the royals), they weren’t very powerful, but they had did have some psychokinesis.

The Vittra were physically stronger than almost any other tribe, possibly barring the Omte. Despite their smaller stature, hobgoblins were easily as strong as ogres, if not stronger. And while Vittra trolls were generally more attractive and smarter than the Omte, they could be just as quick-tempered and aggressive.

The Skojare could breathe underwater, which wasn’t very useful for this fight. They were also the least skilled in combat, and the other two tribes were often frustrated by their inability to properly defend themselves.

More than once during training I saw a Vittra soldier throw a Skojare guard across the room in irritation. Ridley, Finn, and Ludlow were doing their best to keep order and get everyone working together, but it was no easy task.

It was during our training in the afternoon that Linnea came into the ballroom, excited about the cause for celebration. She insisted that everyone needed a morale-booster and a fun way to bond, and the way to do that was with a party in the ballroom.

With that, she tossed everyone out, telling us to go practice outside where the Trylle and the Vittra had set up camp in Storvatten. I spent the rest of the day out in the warm spring rain, teaching Skojare new maneuvers and fighting in the mud.

After a hard day of training, I walked down to my guestroom to wash off all the dirt in a warm shower. I’d almost made it to my room when Linnea came rushing down the hall toward me, carrying three garment bags in her arms.

“Bryn!” she called to me, nearly tripping on her long satin dressing gown in her hurry. When I turned to face her, she realized how filthy I was, and she slowed down. “I was going to hand these off to you, but you’ll get muck all over the bags. I’ll just put them on your bed while you go shower.”

“Why are you bringing me garment bags?” I asked.

“For the party.” Linnea gave me a look like I was an idiot and brushed past me as she went into my room. “I know you weren’t able to pack your finer clothes with you, so I grabbed a few gowns that I thought you might like and would fit you.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I hadn’t planned on going to the party,” I said as I walked more slowly into my room.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you are.” Linnea kept her back to me as she carefully laid out the bags on the bed. “You’re integral to everything that’s happening here, and you need to be here to mingle and get people to trust each other.”

She unzipped each of the bags, pulling out the gowns a bit so I could see them. I’d owned some nice dresses in my life, but none as fabulous as these.

One was a rich navy-blue fabric that looked like liquid when it moved, and with a slit so high, I would be worried that my panties would show. Another was snow-white satin with diamond and lace embellishments creating an ornate illusion neckline. And the last was pale aquamarine, embroidered with flowing designs and sapphires, and a bit of tulle under the length filled out the skirt.

“And besides,” Linnea went on as I stood, transfixed by the lavishness of the gowns, “you’ve earned it. You’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve a night to let your hair down.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll go to the party.”

She clapped her hands together. “I would hug you, but I don’t want to get covered in mud. Now hurry and get ready.”