The retreat was tactical, necessary, and deeply, profoundly irritating.
We stood just outside the entrance to Yori's sun-drenched wasteland, the memory of that searing, hateful light still prickling at my new, exquisitely sensitive vampiric skin.
It was like being personally bullied by a star.
"Well, that was a bust," I announced, dusting off a non-existent speck from the shoulder of my very dramatic, very black coat.
"He knew we were coming."
Isabelle stood beside me, her expression a mask of cool professionalism, but I could see the frustration simmering in her eyes.
"He knew you were coming, my Lord," she corrected, her voice tight.
"The silver arrows, the fire magic, and now this."
She gestured towards the shimmering heat haze rising from the entrance to the next sector.
"An entire sector designed to exploit your greatest weakness."
"The old man is a menace," I grumbled.
"A brilliant, well-prepared, and deeply annoying menace."
I turned to my assembled commanders.
