“Do you think we could find her, and convince her to help?”

Marco shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You think they won’t be dead? They were susceptible to the pox too, Alex.”

I chewed at my bottom lip thinking. “But the trolls were working for Orion all along, right?”

They nodded in unison.

“So wouldn’t he have put something into play to keep the trolls from picking up the pox?” Even as I said the words I knew I was wrong. In London, right as Rylee had returned to us from Tian Shan and leaving her daughter behind, there had been a troll infected with the pox.

“Good thinking, but how do we find them?”

Already I knew it was a long shot, but we had a little time. A few more on our side might make the difference.

“We’ve got a wolf pack of two hundred. You don’t think they could sniff out a few trolls?” I grinned, already seeing the chaos in my mind of wolves all over downtown Bismarck, freaking out the general populace.

I all but vibrated in my seat.

I couldn’t wait.

Without another word, Eve and Marco dropped out of the sky so I could speak to the wolf packs about the plan.

Being wolves and loving a little chaos themselves, they agreed.

This was about to get fun.

CHAPTER 32

RYLEE

OPHELIA FLEW HARD all night long. There were demons here and there, and they came at us fast and without warning. But we destroyed them as if they were flies and gnats. Like they were nothing.

I Tracked Marcella and Zane constantly, feeling their uncertainty. The trickles of fear that flared up here and there. But no pain, they weren’t being hurt. And they were themselves, there was no possession happening. Yet.

That was about all I had to keep myself going; knowing for the moment, they were alive and as well as they could be while in Orion’s “care.”

As the sun climbed in the east, we neared my old farm. Or what was left of it.

Rylee, I have to ask. How do you know this is the place the final battle is to happen? Even your father never figured that out. Even Jack wasn’t sure, I think.

“The books of prophecy, or one in particular, I should say.” I frowned into the bright sunlight. “The book of the Blood of the Lost was very straightforward, there was no double entendre to the words. It said, ‘The Blood of the Lost shall be spilled on the steps of her home, and therein will the world see not all is forsaken, but as it should be.’”

But your home, it could be anywhere you’ve lived, couldn’t it?

“Not in this case.” We flew over the farm in a big sweep, the cornfields bending under the downdraft of her wings. “Stay up for a minute. What do you see where the house burnt down?”

Ophelia back winged, and tread the air with ease. The remnants of your home, the charred out timbers.

“And under that?”

She strained her neck forward and then shook herself. A ceremonial slab. That is where your blood will be spilt.

I nodded, a sense of relief flowing through me. “So you see, this is the right place. I think I knew it all along, which is why I was drawn to it. Why so many fights happened right here. This land . . . I’ve been fighting for it all along.” And the loss of my home made sense now. Without being burned to ash, we’d have had a bitch of a time getting to the slab.

Ophelia spiraled to the ground, landing beside the barn.

I will clear the rest of the timbers so the pathway is clear. How soon before the ceremony starts?

“That will depend, I guess.” I slid from her back and dropped to my feet. “There is more than one factor involved here.”

The barn door creaked open and I was relieved Doran stepped out. He swept me into a hug, holding me tightly. “We’ll get her back, don’t doubt it for an instant. That girl has too much ahead of her to have it any other way.”

I squeezed him as hard as I could. “I want to believe that.”

A loud racket of wood cracking turned us both to where Ophelia was tearing the remains of the farmhouse down and away from the ceremonial slab with no little amount of glee on her face. “Dragons and their love of demolition. Never gets old for them,” I said.

Doran gave me another squeeze. “I’m going to set things up for you. To a fucking T as per your paperwork you sent.” He let go of my arms and pulled from his back pocket a tattered piece of paper with my handwriting on one side. It was only then I noticed the braided rope looped around his neck and over his shoulders. Unicorn hair. I stroked a hand down it.

“Let’s hope it holds. The book of the Blood of the Lost said it would,” I whispered.

“Believe it, Rylee. You can do this. Now go and get the job done.”

His words helped me center myself. The long road was almost finished; a little further and everyone would be safe.

Will stuck his head out of the barn. “Rylee, I’m sorry, but the crazy boy wants to talk to you.”

“Factor number one in dealing with this shit,” I muttered under my breath.

Lark said Jonathan was a key in deciding my fate. But I’d heard those words before about other people. Alex was also supposed to be a key in the final battle. So was Pamela, and of course Lark. Hell, Liam wasn’t even supposed to be at the battle, though I supposed since his physical body wasn’t there that was perhaps still holding true.

But since none of them were here, I was about to see how big a factor Jonathan was going to play. Trusting Lark was easy and she said he was important.