[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]
Sif stayed silent for a few seconds, then cleared her throat. “Right, then,” she murmured. “Inches and miles, I guess, right?”
“We don’t have a choice, Sif,” I said. “We’re committed. We’re doing this. It’s our only shot—moreso now that you and I have seen the size of this army from above.”
“They’re not bunched up enough,” she said, her brow furrowing. “How do we solve that?”
“Matt and Phelan,” I said. “Maybe a little Thordin. If Hecate takes control of the forces she used to command? Maybe just her. I don’t know. That’s a variable we’ll have to weigh once they get a look at this.”
“You want me to go get them?”
“Yeah,” I said, my gaze drifting back toward the army camp below us. “Quick and quiet. The rest can hold where they are.”
She nodded quickly, then eased back through the brush and down the rise, back toward the trees. I crouched amidst the brush, just watching for a few minutes. The camp gave no sign of being on any kind of alert. Figures milled around without rhyme or reason, some pausing alongside each other as if in conversation, others moving from one campfire to another. There were at least a few that seemed to be sentries watching the edges of the camp, but there weren’t many—not nearly as many as I would have expected for a camp this size.
Cocky. Maybe a little overconfident.
I blew out a silent breath. I could hope that he was overconfident and that we’d make him pay for it. What I was seeing, what we’d planned, what my instincts were telling me was that we could—that he would pay for his overconfidence.
This time, anyway.
That was when it hit me that we’d have to kill him. He couldn’t be allowed to escape. We would get one shot at this and then never again.
One way or another, before the battle we were going to start was over, Orcus would need to be dead.