whip my halberd around. He blocks with his sword, and the other two rush at me from behind. Shit.
The air shifts beside me. Someone grabs my shoulder and then my stomach twists into a knot as all the air is sucked out from inside and around me. My vision blurs to black.
Then, just as fast as it happened, it stops, and the grip on my shoulder releases and I collapse to my knees, wheezing for air. What the fuck? Did I just die? Is that what death feels like?
But when my vision stops swimming, the pain in my back still registers. I look up and see the battle I’d just been in still raging on below. A sheer cliff face plunges down in front of me, not tall, but not short enough to easily scale.
I can’t take my eyes from the scene. The rebels, all in their black uniforms, are obviously winning. The Order is scattered, small teams standing together in the face of overwhelming numbers. This is how bad it is? This is what we’re fighting against? How did it get to this so quickly?
“Are you okay?” someone asks from behind me.
But it’s not just someone. I know that voice. I whip around despite the pain in my back and raise my halberd.
My brother stands in front of me. He lifts his hands in peace, dark brown eyes heavy and sad as he watches me.
“You,” I snarl. I swing my halberd around and catch him in the chest with the pole end of it. I hear the rush of air as he loses his breath. Then I’ve got on him his back, kneeling into his stomach to keep him from getting up, one of the blades of my halberd against his throat.
It takes every ounce of my willpower to not immediately kill him. The only thing that holds me back is my need for answers. “What did you do? What’s happening?”
“Good to see you again, too,” he croaks around his lost breath. He flicks one of his wrists out to indicate a bracelet. When I look closer, I see that it’s not just any bracelet—it’s strung with multi-colored power crystals. “One of our members,” he says slowly, “has a gift of teleportation. It’s very useful. We traded crystals.”
“You—you saved me?” I can’t believe it. “How did you even—?”
“Your flames are easy to recognize,” he says with a small smile. I can’t believe he’s smiling right now. I want to punch it off his damn face. “You lose your temper as quickly as always. I’ve been watching the fight from here, but when I saw your fire, I was worried, so…” He looks away.
Every muscle in my body is telling me to bring down my weapon. Attack. Kill. Now, finally.
But I don’t. All I can think about is Irina saying there’s no point in revenge. Even if I kill him right now, nothing will change. He’s an enemy—a rebel—and I need to kill him anyway. But there are things I want to know before that. “Why?”
He tilts his head. “Why?”
I don’t even know where to start. Years of pent-up rage and grief and betrayal I hadn’t even known I’d still been holding onto pour out as I shout at him. “Why did you kill our parents? Why didn’t you explain yourself that night—why did you run?” I bite back tears of fury. “Why did you save me just now?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and I almost swing my halberd at his head. The longer he takes, the more my friends are suffering down there in that lost battle.
“I didn’t kill them,” he finally says, quietly.
“What do you mean, you didn’t kill them?” I ask. “Their blood was on your hands! You ran.”
“A Nyte killed them—someone in Sector Eight’s military.” He looks straight at me. “I don’t know what he was after. I didn’t know what to do. He escaped, and by the time you came home and saw everything, I’d already decided. I’d go after him, find out why he did it, and then kill him.” His eyes are unwavering. It makes my stomach lurch. “But I panicked when I saw you. I ran away without saying anything, but by the time I realized how that looked and went back, you were already gone.” He smiles wryly. “In some ways, I thought it might be for the best. I didn’t want to get you involved in all this. I never imagined you’d join the military and come