Four Gates

“This is madness, and it’s evil,” Eoghan spat, but Dolan put a hand on his arm.

“We need them,” he said.

Ciaran tore his gaze away from his father and tried to focus on Brenna’s orders.

“Fine,” Eoghan said, voice low and fierce. “But when it’s done, we will deal with them.”

“I want four gates,” Brenna said. “One for each watchtower.”


Ciaran didn’t understand, but the other Gifted were nodding and shifting about, picking places.

“We’ll need lures,” Brenna continued. “Fighters to draw the enemy here.” She turned to Ciaran. “I’ll need you - your power - on the rear guard.”