“Did you see where Private Renwar went, sir?” Sergeant Arkhorn asked, stepping over the bodies with little concern. He held his shatterbow at the ready, its twin muzzles sweeping the area as he walked.

“I’m fine, Sergeant,” Konowa said, making a point of flicking a piece of rakke skull off his uniform.

Arkhorn nodded. “Of course you are, sir. I shouted a warning, didn’t I? Have you seen Ally?”

Before Konowa could answer there was a shriek and the sound of a musket firing from up ahead. Konowa sensed frost fire burning and was staggered by the power in it.

“Never mind, sir, I know where he is,” Arkhorn said. “All right laddies, we’ve done this before.” He motioned for a section of Iron Elves to form up around him. “Make a wedge and keep your necks on swivels or it won’t be Her darlings you have to worry about.” Someone groaned.

“Why not let the DDs take care of this? They’re dead already and we ain’t. Why do we have to keep risking our necks, eh?”

Konowa couldn’t see who had asked the question, but it wasn’t the first time it had been voiced. It started shortly after the DDs, or Darkly Departed-the shadows of the dead-had first appeared in support of the regiment.

Sergeant Arkhorn put two fingers to his lips and whistled between his metal teeth. It sounded like twenty kettles on the boil. “One more outburst like that and you’ll be swimming from here to the Hasshugeb Expanse. You bloody well know the “Darkly Departed’ don’t like it when the sun’s coming up. They’re dead. The night is their domain and all that. Honestly, did your mum never read you any fairy tales? We’re on our own. Stay smart, well, as smart as you lot can, and we’ll come out of this just fine. Stay spread out and don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want you grouped together and making any easy target,” Sergeant Arkhorn said, looking around at the soldiers and waiting until each one nodded.