3
“Bryse to Mist Queen.”
The young captain stood in the shadow of a brown-bricked building, tapping away at his multi-tool. His face was pale, his eyes frantic. Anna wondered if he realized that his troops could sense his apprehension, that it was spreading among them like wildfire. “This is Captain Bryse to the fleet. Can anyone hear me?”
The only reply he got was static. She heard a frightened voice speaking a few disjointed syllables, but it was nothing intelligible. It seemed pretty clear to her that the battle up above was going as poorly as the one down here.
Closing her eyes, Anna heaved out a breath. “We can’t stay here,” she said. “They’ll have us surrounded in a matter of minutes. We have to go now.”
Bryse shuddered and then nodded his agreement. “All right,” he mumbled. “Re
