A sprawling array of tents in shades of gray, black, and red dotted the hillside beyond the city’s walls, with plumes of smoke drifting on a lazy breeze away from the wall side of the mountains. Demons the size of ants moved about much like the tiny creatures did, no doubt busying themselves with training, sharpening weapons, or finding food and drink. The size of the war camp rivaled that of Uzhhorod, and with the thick line of other squads behind us on the road, it would only increase.
“How is that possible?” I murmured, awestruck.
Dromak chuckled, and I started, having been so wrapped up in the landscape that I didn’t hear him approach. “It’s possible because the Fates want us to win. The Angels stand no chance against us now.”
While I wasn’t as sycophantic as the others about the war against the Angels, the Halálhívó, and the Kral, I had to admit the force was impressive. Among that many, I would not be missed. A twinge of guilt swept through me as I glanced sidelong at Izgath. The male had no idea I planned to slip away among the chaos of our arrival.
With how things had progressed between us, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I only hoped he wouldn’t stop me, that he would understand why, and that he wouldn’t find trouble after my departure.
“That’s the last of us. Let’s go, brothers,” Dromak pronounced, turning his horse to the road. When I tore my attention away from the breathtaking view, I saw that he was right. The last of our supply wagons had passed, and below, the first had made it to the fourth switchback in the road, nearly closing in on the base of the hill. Behind us, a line of other soldiers and wagons waited to take their turn down the steep, winding incline.
Digging my heels into Blaeze’s side, I hurried him along behind Izgath and Dromak. The three of us rode in single file, silence filling the air as we concentrated on the road. I refused to look over each passing edge, having been forewarned about the effects of it. The height was dizzying enough without adding the possibility of a sheer drop should one lean too far.
I was the last to arrive at the base of the hill, where a long, thick road stretched straight to Uzhhorod. Even the road wasn’t flat, with moments of dips and valleys, one side raised higher than the other. Alongside it, though, males and females alike worked on those sections, digging deep gouges into the earth in an attempt to level them out.
They paid us no attention as we passed. But why should they? With the number of soldiers teeming through these hills, we were nothing fantastical, like Jaku and the others had been in the quiet southern plains around Stryi.
A hush settled over our group as we marched the remaining distance to the war camp. True to his word, Izgath had managed to prevent any testing my magic, though how he accomplished it I did not know.
But the lack of verbalization among my companions did not mean we rode in silence; no, a dull roar grew and grew and grew until it morphed into something bigger, something hypnotic as we approached the rolling tents.
The organized chaos of the camp was unmistakable. At one juncture in the road, a group of ten males waited, parchments and boards in hand, scratching furiously as a mix of leather-clad and metal-clad males spoke to them. To the left, the path led to the war camp; to the right, the path led to Uzhhorod. Behind them, a third road strung the two together, and a constant stream of people blotted out whatever waited beyond it.
Jaku hopped from his horse and spoke with one of the males. Izgath motioned for me to join them, so I tossed my reins to Morrt, one of the males I trusted most in my unit, before following Izgath and Dromak to our Százados. Uzadaan, Gnim, and Grex were already there.
“How many do you bring, Százados?” the crimson-eyed male asked, ink poised to drip on the parchment.
“Six units, each of three hundred and forty,” he stated, and the male scratched away.
“The Halálhívó wishes to send anyone with ruby eyes or higher for enhanced training. How many are in your unit?” the male asked, not looking up.
Shock nearly popped my mouth open, and it was only through years of plastering bland expressions on my face that I managed to hold it together.
Uzadaan handed his notes on each male’s magic and rated power to Jaku, who quickly flipped through and pulled the pages he needed. “Apologies, I need a moment to count them,” Jaku grumbled.
I shifted from foot to foot while he and Uzadaan worked, not daring to glance at Izgath.
“One hundred eighty,” Jaku finally replied, handing the papers over.
The male flipped through quickly, then made notes on his own board and Jaku’s papers. “Incubi and Succubi will remain with their current units.”
My heart plummeted. Izgath and I would be separated. But that was what I wanted, right? That would make it easier to slip away unseen.
Jaku thumbed through the returned papers, and the male made one final note before returning his attention to the Százados. “Excellent. For now, please check in with the operations master ahead and he will give you everything you need: new tents, armor, weapons. After the viewing ceremony tomorrow, you’ll all be reassigned to your new units.”
“Thank you,” Jaku said, and the male offered him a salute.
We turned as a group and walked back to our waiting squad. My heart thundered in my ears with each step toward Blaeze as the reality of the situation settled across my shoulders.
We were moments away from entering a camp with tens of thousands, if not over a hundred thousand Demons roaming about, more than I’d ever seen collectively in my life. Not only that, but these Demons possessed powers that could render mine useless. Any number of things could happen to strip away Vagach’s form and reveal me, a lone female, in the middle of a camp filled with violent males.
You’ve got this, Assyria.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I steeled my spine and mounted my horse, following dutifully along with the males with whom I’d spent the last month traveling to Uzhhorod. All the while, I scanned the camp, studying all entry and exit points, as well as the singular road that led between it and the city walls.
The stream of people between the two was largely male, though I thought a female or two held their heads high among the mix. They wore the billowy black robes of priestesses, as well as opaque black veils, secured in place with silver circlets. I cursed internally. I had nothing in my bag that would work to cover myself like one of them.
I need to corner one and knock her out long enough to study her form and take her clothes.
So deep was my plotting that I didn’t realize we’d reached the operations center. Dozens of males ran about, collecting items from the wagons that needed repair, directing others to park for unloading, while still more shuffled the recruits into neat lines. Each station handed over leather armor and a basic sword to those who did not have one already.
A numbness flowed over me as I attempted to focus on where I was and not on the sheer mass of people around me. The line moved quickly, especially as Izgath, Dromak, and Uzadaan helped their charges in selecting sizes and weapons from the stockpiles of both.
I watched as the group who had once belonged to Zurronar exchanged the small, travel tents for larger ones, and Morrt even hoisted a flag bearing a galloping horse into the wagon before the crowd swallowed him.
A cleared throat had me tearing my attention to the male in front of me. Correcting myself, I stepped forward, and the male behind the table thrust new clothing into my hands after one quick glance. “These should work, if they don’t there’s more places through the camp where you can exchange for a different size.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting it and backing away as quickly as I could. I nearly tripped over the male behind me, barely managing to catch the short sword before it tumbled off the top of the pile and into my foot.
