How to Save a Fae (Heir of Dragons Book 2)

it's Dragon Hunter!” declared one with seeming relief. “Now we've got a chance!”
Minx's cheeks reddened and she lowered her gaze, feeling unworthy of the praise. If only I'd done my job, this army wouldn't be here in the first place... she thought.
“Minx, take your position atop the wall and take out as many as you can. Pay special attention to those armed with heavy weapons that could threaten the walls. If the walls are breached, they'll have a much easier time gaining entry.” Valdar motioned to the wall where several other archers were already stationed. “And if you find either Valry or Torrent among them, be sure to crush them. I suspect these lingering marauders are more organized than we previously believed. They're taking orders from someone, so let us cleave the head from the snake, so to speak. Without commanders, they'll flounder.”
She nodded firmly. “Yes, father.” Leaving Mau to assist the swordsmen and lancers down below, Minx climbed the wall and joined the other archers, peering over the boundary of the Trading Center and getting her first proper look at the marching legions outside.
For a moment, she felt as though her legs would give out on her. This was going to be difficult—with or without an overrated Dragon Hunter assisting.
Wuffs, Plurn and Krah, many of them wielding torches, marched steadily across the field and prepared to storm the walls. Minx knew that swaths of the warriors in the first wave would perish, but those behind them would either try and scale the walls, destroy the stones at their base, or else attempt a breach of the gate. Moreover, there were archers in their ranks, meaning that if Minx and the others weren't careful, they'd get sniped before they even had a chance to draw their bows.
Mau, began the Fae huntress, glancing at her companion below, this is madness. Where did they all come from? How did they manage to organize so quickly? In the past few weeks, we've killed many dozens—how are there still so many left?
The Faelyr's fur bristled and she paced behind the row of lancers in wait. Perhaps the army was bigger than we realized—maybe Torrent didn't show his full hand last time, and is launching a large attack when we least expected one.
Torrent's power had been incredible. Minx remembered how easily she'd been dispatched by the terrifying spell-caster during their previous run-in. Kaleb, too—no matter his frightful strength as a dragon of the Pyra Clan—had been unable to harm him. They had learned prior to the great battle that Torrent had joined forces with Valry, and had contributed legions of strange, foul warriors to Valry's already impressive army.
That army, it seemed, was still marching under someone's orders.
“Stand firm,” Minx told the other archers. She wasn't the only one daunted by the size of the invading force, and noticed that a handful of her fellow archers were shuddering in anticipation of the battle. “We beat them once, we can beat them again!” It was her duty to keep up morale. Her experience in battle made her unique among the Fae, and if she didn't put on a brave face and rally for them, the battle would be over before it even started.
One of the archers, a middle-aged Fae with a brown braid in his hair, chuckled darkly. “Y-Yeah, but last time we had the dragons helping us. This time, we're on our own.”
The others grumbled in agreement.
Minx couldn't argue with him. This time, the Fae had no choice but to go at it alone. She teased an arrow from her quiver, nocked it and stood at the ready, watching the first wave advance toward the wall. “We are still Fae. We won't be overcome by this mongrel force.”
“Aim!” ordered her father from down below, his voice booming across the silent square.
Minx and the others did as they were told. The Fae huntress singled out a Wuff torchbearer near the front of the line as her first target. If they want to attack us after sunset, they'll have to fight in the dark.
“Fire!” shouted Valdar, longsword raised.
A swarm of arrows flew from the top of the wall, sailing straight into the incoming marauders.
The battle was on.
The only option available to Minx—to any of the Fae—was to fight. They had no choice but to fight with all their strength, holding their positions firmly and operating with the utmost efficiency. Anything less would allow the enemy to gain ground.
There was a certain comfort in this struggle, despite the terror she felt at the prospect of defeat. Rattling off one arrow after another, sending out successive volleys in an almost mechanical fashion, allowed her to bury the dark thoughts that had been plaguing her only moments ago. As she stood on the wall, fighting for her life, and for the safety of her people, she didn't have to think about her mother, or about Kaleb, or about anything else that troubled her.
Her entire existence had been condensed into a mere three actions.
Load.
Aim.
Fire.
Minx paid special attention to the Wuff archers flooding in behind the vanguard of torch-bearers and swordsmen. She showered them with arrows before they could even reach into their quivers, all in the interest of defending her fellow bowmen. The Fae had produced many skilled warriors, but those sharing the wall with her skewed on the younger side, and lacked experience. They took too long in aiming, hesitated during inopportune times and failed to account for return fire from enemy archers. Taking them under her wing, Minx did everything in her power to pick off the enemy snipers before they could clear the wall.
A Krah warrior with heavy armor and a steel sledge ran past the rest and buried the tip of his weapon in the wall with a rattling crash that could be heard over the heat of battle. Minx stepped to the edge of the wall and sized him up, realizing she couldn't manage a good shot from where she stood. I can't get him from here.