Chapter 22 - Raegan
The matriarch arrives with an army I didn’t expect.
Lydia steps out of a convoy of vehicles that seems to stretch for miles, followed by fighters from at least three different territories. Llewelyn warriors in their distinctive blue and silver armor walk alongside Ambersky shifters, while robed figures I don’t recognize bring up the rear.
“How many did she bring?” Wyn asks, appearing beside me as we watch the procession.
“More than we hoped for,” I reply, though the coordination challenges are already obvious. Traditional pack fighters don’t move the same way as Llewelyn’s disciplined units, and the robed figures seem to operate by completely different rules.
Lydia strides over to us and says, “I brought specialists. Witches from the eastern covens, battle mages from Llewelyn, and healing units from multiple territories.”
“Can they work together?” Oren asks, joining our group.
“They’ll have to. Your enemy isn’t limiting himself to conventional warfare. We can’t, either.”
She’s right. The magical weapons Thornridge deployed require supernatural countermeasures. But watching the different groups establish their own separate camps, I wonder if we’ll spend more time coordinating our allies than fighting our enemies.
The Llewelyn forces move with such synchronicity that it makes our pack fighters look chaotic by comparison. Their commander, a stern woman with silver hair, makes her way over to us.
“I’m Captain Morwen,” she introduces herself. “My units are trained in adaptive assault tactics and magical weapon countermeasures.”
“Have you faced anything like what Thornridge is using?” I ask.
“Similar technology during the border conflicts ten years ago. The key is disrupting their power sources before they can achieve target lock.”
One of the robed figures floats toward us, pulling back her hood to reveal an elderly woman with detailed tattoos covering her hands and forearms.
“Elder Nettle,” she says by way of introduction. “Eastern Coven representative. We’ve brought thirty-seven witches specialized in battlefield magic.”
“What kind of capabilities?” Wyn inquires.
“Illusion work, magical barriers, energy disruption, and healing enhancement. We can also provide scrying support to gather real-time intelligence.”
“Brief me on the current situation,” Lydia commands.
I give her a quick overview of Thornridge’s planned assault and our trap. She listens without interruption, but I can see her evaluating our strategy with the mind that made her legendary.
“Your plan has merit,” she tells me. “But you’re assuming Mordaunt will react predictably to seeing you exposed.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been planning this operation for months. Do you really think he hasn’t considered the possibility of a trap?”
The question makes my stomach clench. We’ve been so focused on using Mordaunt’s desires against him that we haven’t fully considered how he might have prepared for exactly that scenario.
“What would you do in his position?” Wyn asks.
“Test the trap before committing forces. Send expendable units to probe your responses. Force you to reveal your positions early.”
“Then we adjust,” I offer, though I sound much less confident now.
“How?”
Before I can answer, Theodore approaches with a communication device. “We’re intercepting new Thornridge transmissions. Their strategy has changed.”
He activates the speaker, and Mordaunt’s voice fills the space around us.
“Secondary units will probe defensive positions before the main assault. Primary objective remains securing the Amanzite reserves, but we proceed with caution regarding potential ambush.”
“Well, shit,” Wyn mutters.
Lydia nods. “He’s adapting faster than you expected.”
“So we adapt faster,” I reply. “What do you suggest?”
“Multiple contingencies. If he sends probe units, we respond minimally. Make him think he’s found our main defensive positions while keeping the real trap intact.”
It makes sense, but it also requires perfect coordination between groups that have never fought together before.
“Can your specialists handle deception operations?” I ask.
“Better than anyone. Witches excel at misdirection, and Llewelyn forces train extensively in adaptive tactics.”
Elder Nettle speaks up. “We can create false signatures that mimic large defensive formations. Make small units appear much larger through magical enhancement.”
Captain Morwen nods in agreement. “My units can stage withdrawals that suggest we’re falling back to secondary positions. Classic misdirection.”
“What about the healing units?”
“Essential for sustained combat,” Lydia responds. “Your psychic abilities are already damaged from overuse. Without support, you won’t survive another major exertion.”
Her blunt assessment of my condition isn’t comforting, but it’s probably accurate. The nosebleeds have stopped, but I still feel hollow inside, like something has been snuffed out.
“How bad is it?” Wyn asks, squinting at me.
“Manageable with proper treatment,” Lydia answers for me. “But she needs to be careful about pushing beyond safe limits again.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insist, though even I don’t fully believe it.
A young witch with bright green eyes appears. “I’m Sage Willow,” she introduces herself. “I specialize in psychic stabilization. I can provide an enhancement that will help prevent further damage during combat.”
“What kind of enhancement?”
“Magical buffering that absorbs some of the strain when you use your abilities. It won’t eliminate the risk, but it will reduce it significantly.”
“Do it,” Wyn tells her.
Sage Willow places her hands on my temples, and I feel a strange cooling sensation flow through my mind. The hollow feeling doesn’t disappear, but it becomes more tolerable and less noticeable.
“Better?” she asks.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The next hour becomes a complicated dance of positioning different types of fighters.
Traditional pack warriors understand terrain and pack tactics, but they struggle with the fluid command structure Llewelyn forces prefer.
The witches operate almost independently, communicating through methods I don’t recognize.
“This isn’t working,” Theodore observes as we watch a Llewelyn unit repeatedly fail to coordinate with one of our defensive teams.
“Different fighting styles,” Lydia explains. “Pack fighters rely on hierarchy and instinct. Llewelyn forces use distributed decision-making.”
“How do we make them work together?”
“By giving each group specific roles that play to their strengths rather than forcing integration.”
She spreads a map across our planning table and starts assigning positions.
Shifters get defensive positions that require holding ground.
Llewelyn units receive mobile assignments that let them adapt quickly.
Outlier witches are positioned to provide magical support without needing direct coordination.
“What about command structure?” Oren asks.
“Simplified. Each group reports to its own leaders, who coordinate with your central command. No complex chains of authority.”
The approach feels chaotic, but it might work better than trying to force different cultures into identical roles.
Captain Morwen studies the defensive layout. “My units can provide rapid response capability. When Thornridge commits to their assault, we can hit their flanks while they’re focused on the central trap.”
“How quickly can you reposition?” I ask.
“Full unit movement in under three minutes. Individual squads are faster.”
Elder Nettle traces magical symbols over the map. “The covens can establish overlapping barrier networks. If their magical weapons break through initial defenses, we can contain the damage.”
“What kind of barriers?”
“Energy absorption, kinetic redirection, and life force protection. Layered defenses that adapt to different attack types.”
A commotion near the command center draws our attention. My mother appears, leading a group of older pack members who are coordinating civilian evacuations.
“Maude,” Wyn calls. “How are the non-combatants?”
“Secured in the deepest shelters we could find,” she reports. “But there are concerns about the magical weapons. Normal shelters might not provide adequate protection.”
“The witches can establish magical barriers around civilian areas,” Lydia suggests. “It will reduce their availability for combat support, but protecting non-combatants is a priority.”
“Do it,” Oren decides immediately.
Elder Nettle nods and signals to several younger witches. “Take half the defensive specialists and establish protective barriers around all civilian shelters. Priority on family areas.”
Watching my mother coordinate with the witch leaders, I see the generational impact of this conflict. She’s protecting her children, ensuring the Blacklock line continues regardless of what happens to us in battle.
“How many civilians are we protecting?” Captain Morwen asks.
“Nearly two hundred non-combatants,” my mother responds. “Including children, the elderly, and the injured from previous conflicts. Mostly shifters.”
“That’s a significant commitment of magical resources,” Elder Nettle observes.
“It’s necessary,” I state. “We’re not just fighting for territory. We’re fighting for families.”
The witch elder smiles approvingly. “Spoken like someone who understands what really matters.”
“Contact from our forward scouts,” Jay reports over the radio. “Thornridge probe units are moving into position.”
“How many?” I ask.
“Approximately twenty fighters, supported by two of the magical weapons.”
“Testing our responses,” Lydia confirms. “How do you want to handle it?”
I study the tactical display, weighing options. If we respond too strongly, we reveal our true defensive capabilities. If we respond too weakly, Mordaunt might suspect the positions are decoys.
“Limited engagement,” I decide. “Make it look like we’re defending normally, but don’t commit major forces.”
“Which units?”