The Executioners
Learning Sam was pregnant made the Black Sheep very, very nervous about what was coming.
And it meant that their planning session, gathered around the kitchen island, wasn't going so well.
"You waste time thinking of ways to protect them," Amarena snarled for what felt like the fifth time. "Better to send them off, or better, let them fight to protect their brood!"
"Can't fight..." Sam muttered, touching the wound in their shoulder.
"The basement is safe," Kir asserted. "Bridged warded it against herself, and I doubt any mage coming against us can produce a tornado or a hurricane."
"What's a hurricane?" Stella asked.
"It's like a tornado the size of a nation," Noir supplied. "They come in from the south now and then."
Kir had had enough. "Can we just focus!" he said, slamming his fist on the table. "If I can't lure them into a duel, then we've got to be ready for anything. Putting up traps will buy us time-"