The group reached the fortress by nightfall, its jagged silhouette looming against the star-strewn sky. The stone walls were crumbling in places, vines snaking their way through cracks, but it was still sturdy enough to provide shelter.
Arteja walked the perimeter, her sharp eyes noting every weak point. "We'll need to clear the rubble and reinforce the gates first," she said to Lirael, who followed closely.
"Do you think Dain and his people will hold up their end?" Lirael asked, glancing toward the riders as they set up camp.
"They don't have a choice," Arteja replied. "If they betray us, they die with us. If they stay loyal, we might all survive."
Lirael nodded, though her unease was clear.
As the night deepened, Arteja called a meeting with her guardians, Dain, and a few of the villagers who had proven themselves capable.
"This fortress is our best chance," she began, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "But it won't hold if the enemy comes at us full force. We need to prepare for a siege—and fast."
Dain leaned against a broken column, his arms crossed. "We'll need food, water, and more weapons. The enemy won't wait for us to settle in."
Arteja nodded. "Lirael and I will scout the surrounding area at first light. Dain, you'll organize hunting parties. Corliss, start reinforcing the walls with whoever you can spare."
"And the villagers?" one of Dain's men asked.
"They'll fight," Arteja said firmly, her gaze sweeping over the room. "Everyone here fights. If they don't, we're all dead."
There were no arguments.