Not only within my own chest, my own spirit, but within all of us here in Feyland. My magic connected with the magic of my soldiers, and I could sense their pain. They too could see the horde of the Dead that was coming towards us, a shadow that sucked out all life, all warmth, from its past. A shivering chill passed through all of us. Did they recognize any of the Dead, I wondered, as my eyes scanned the horizon for my Summer soldiers? Did they see their fallen comrades, their family, their friends – now fighting against them, overwhelmed by the power of darkness that had taken hold? I could see Redleaf. She was floating at the head of the Dead, her eyes cold, her expression implacable. This was not the flawed, tormented woman I had met in the land of the Dead, the woman who had managed to elicit sympathy from me even after all her crimes. No, this woman had clearly been possessed by the dark forces of the Hordes; she was no longer a fairy at all, but a demon with a fairy's face. I could see in her eyes nothing but rage, nothing but hatred.
