The situation was bleak, but I couldn't just stand there and allow the havoc to continue. Bara Khalja stood atop a mound of moved earth, grinning down at everything laid bare before him. And in that moment I could see us in his eyes as he must see us.

The fae were broken and scattered, he had already hit two of the major cities and broke their courts apart in the process. The third had managed some semblance of evasion, but the fourth was under the control of someone he had somehow allied with. The witches were here, and yet he had dealt with my mother before with ease. I'm sure the gathered sisters were no threat in his mind. The elves may or may not have come as a surprise, depending on what he could recognize in them when he encountered Teyber and the other scouts that had gone with Lark to rescue Nassir twenty years ago. And among the broken and scattered forces fighting back against his army our deaths would only become fodder to more of his wicked magic.

The pit before him was now the final treat, an open pile of bones, ancient and blessed by the elves, ripe for the shaping into more minions for Bara Khalja.

His eyes swept over me, lingering only long enough to shine amusement before continuing on to other sights of interest. I clenched my fists at my side, tears stinging my eyes. This was madness. No matter what we did, what I could throw at Bara Khalja, he defended himself at every turn.

I could feel the warm presence behind me before I felt the hand on my shoulder. Even outside of his lands, the Spring King scattered warm spring winds around him.

Turning to speak with him, I was surprised that the hand on my shoulder was not the king himself, but one of his most trusted attendees who stood between his king and the Wylde Witch.

"Caldon," I murmured. His long pink braid was disheveled and his dark complexion was speckled in blood that didn't appear to be his. I had no idea he was any sort of fighter, his nature was so...soothing.

My eyes darted around the rest of Diamid's close entourage. The king himself had a powerful air about him, but even more surprising than the Spring king who had stayed out of the fighting until now was the petite form to his left. Krissaph, the succubus that had perplexed me since our first meeting, was spattered in even more blood than Caldon, her triquetram. She offered me a sly smile as she licked one of her fingers clean with a seductive pout of her lips. The small moan that followed the completely unnecessary action sent a shiver down my spine and that of everyone around her save for King Diamid and her own triquetram.

"Is that the warlock?" Caldon asked and I nodded confirmation.

"The reports weren't exaggerated," Diamid said, almost board as he looked up to Bara Khalja who's focus was now directing to the recently arrived Autumn court.

I saw the incoming danger and stepped forward, only to be pulled back by Caldon's hands on both shoulders this time.

"We have some things to clear up," Diamid's commanding voice said behind me.

I strained against Caldon's grip. "Eberon needs me!" 

"No, he does not," Diamid insisted.

I was about to protest when a flash of fire shot up from the group of risen dead that Bara Khalja had summoned in front of Eberon. A pillar of fire that should by all accounts be out of his capabilities scorched through bone and tendon until there was nothing left but ash.

My lips parted in surprise as I absorbed Diamid's next words.

"Do not underestimate a king of the Wyldes. The same court that blessed Baeleon with his impossible strength has further blessed what Eberon already had."

I turned to face the Spring king, calmer now and wanting to use our sparse moments of calm in the battle as quickly as possible. "What is it you wanted me to know?"

Caldon dropped his grip on my shoulders as his king spoke.

"There is a reason the Spring Court stayed out of the conflict until now," Diamid said. "I was suspect of DuVarick's actions these last few centuries but there wasn't much to be done about it. Winter Court business is not my business."

I held my tongue, though I'm sure it was plain on my face what I thought of leaving a court to fend for themselves under a mad king.

"So why get involved now?" I asked.

His eyes drifted up the slope to Bara Khalja. "The warlock. I could tell something was influencing DuVarick for the last thirty or forty years. I couldn't put a finger on it until you."

That caught me off guard. "Me?"

"Do you thing the Spring Court sat idle when I suspected one of the four cities of power to be under an unknown influence?" Diamid asked sharply. "I knew of the witch that visited DuVarick, but when she stopped coming and DuVarick's actions became more volatile my spies that survived Icehold lost track of what could be influencing the mad king. That is, until you arrived."

I sucked in a breath. "The way you acted when I was in Dwellonmar, you recognized that I was a witch?"

"I knew something was amiss with you. You were not quite fae, though you smell enough of the Wyldes that it would be easy enough for most to miss it. At first I thought you were somehow the child of that witch and DuVarick, but that didn't fit either. With the entry of the elven descendants into the Wyldes I was able to put all the pieces together. You were the child of the witch from before, you look just like the drawings I received in my reports from twenty years ago. But you are no child of a fae, are you?"

I shook my head, lifting the hair away from my ears. "Get to the point, Diamid."

Caldon winced as Diamid's eyes darkened.

"You will address me with my title, young one. But I will conceded that time is of the essence now. The warlock has been crawling around our borders for decades in a deceitful lust for power. Once we found him, we could track him back to the human lands. He has done many dark deeds. Consorting with dark creatures, litches. Slaughtering his own kind to fuel his dark arts. And now he openly and boldly allies with DuVarick to wage war with the other pillars of power in the Wyldes. The very essence of these lands will not stand for it. I am here with my people to kill the warlock."

I clenched my jaw tight, my eyes darting from Caldon to Krissaph and back to Diamid. "And the presence of the elves and witches?"

His face drew into a scowl. "I will not protest in the midst of battle, Wylde Witch. That will be a conversation for the aftermath, if any of them still live to see it."

That was...likely the best answer I was going to get. And we had already wasted valuable time while the other factions at play fended off Bara Khalja. Nassir had been gone for who knows how long which made me worried that DuVarick was close. What would happen when both the mad Winter king and the warlock were on the same battlefield? It was something I'd like to avoid at all costs.

"You say you've tracked Bara Khalja, do you have a plan to take him down?" I asked.

A thundering crash sounded even over the horrid sounds of the battlefield, and my heart ached as I wondered who or what was involved in such a noise. Time was slipping away, time I could be fighting the enemy or finding loved ones.

"Magic made this beast, magic will end him," Diamid answered. "Ask your witches what they know of the pinnacle of magic. For now, the Spring Court will thin the walking bones."

Diamid didn't wait for an answer, he instead rushed down into the pit of graveyard where Bara Khalja was already animating some of the elven ancestors' remains. My eyes met Caldon's only briefly as he went swiftly after his king, and Krissaph passed me by with a lustful wink even as blood coated her clothes.

The witches. What did Diamid think they could tell me? The pinnacle of magic? As much as I wanted to find Schula, Spaulder, Thain, Eberon, Kalor, or Nassir, I knew I had to see where Diamid's cryptic words led.

Off in a new direction, I made my way to the now overflowing infirmary. The less injured were laid out on the grass while the critically wounded were under the roof on the simple beds. A ring of witches and elven children had already taken up defending the area, Fandor among them.

There were a few of Bara Khalja's risen dead in my way and I burned them as I went. The line of fighters let me pass through to the infirmary, and I found Purda right away. She was mumbling a chant over a dryad's leg that was sliced open as she stitched the opening together.

"Purda," I huffed, trying to catch my breath.

She shook her head lightly, letting me know to wait. I watched as she finished with the dryad, then she reached out for my arm in support as she turned us away. I helped her, knowing her walking would be slow the more tired she was.

"What is it, child?" Purda asked.

"What do you know of the pinnacle of magic?" I asked.

Purda stopped in her tracks, looking to me with studying eyes. "Where did you hear that?"

"The king of the Spring Court thinks that will be what it takes to kill Bara Khalja."

Purda sighed, turning to face me and taking my hands in hers. "It may, child, but at a great cost."

"What do you mean? What is it?" I asked.

"You have two magics in you," Purda said. "You have the magic of the Mother, as do all witches."

I nodded.

"And, you have magic from your blood of the Wyldes," she said. "But outside of your capabilities lies another magic, and this is what Bara Khalja wields with malice. A darker magic forged by forgotten beings and spoken of in secret places. Where he could have learned it I do not know, but he does wield it and so here it is."

"So there is a third kind of magic," I said.

"Indeed, child. To achieve the pinnacle of magic, one would have to wield all three at once to strike down a foe, but the cost is deadly and the risk is great. Lock into battle with the warlock and bring forth the pinnacle of magic, and it will not end until at least one of you is dead and your magic depleted."

The death I understood, but the magic...

"Magic depleted...forever?" I asked.

"No, not forever. But for many moons, maybe years. However long the Mother wills it for touching the dark magics with hers. I do not know what the repercussions will be to your magic of the Wyldes."

Purda's face remained calm even as she spoke of the dangers. So, it could definitely kill Bara Khalja, but one or both of us would die, and the one who lived would be at a loss of magic for some time.

My heart stilled. This would work, but at a great risk. And yet, as long as I could lock us in the combined powers of the pinnacle of magic, even if I died, Bara Khalja would be defenseless.

"It would sway the battle," I said.

"It would," Purda agreed. "And yet, there are no guarantees."

"No, I suppose there aren't," I murmured.

A fierce roar jostled the ground. I looked back to see all the forces at play locked in combat, and the source of the thundering roar was evident in the giant black dragon now taking off to the skies.

I panicked. What could be making Spaulder move? And then I spotted the giant spikes of ice jetting out even higher than the trees. In the forest beyond the lost elven city was a war of ice, and that could only mean one thing. The thing I had hoped to avoid until Bara Khalja was dealt with.

DuVarick had joined the battlefield.