arrowhead, sending the sharp metal straight through the shooter’s armor.
But worst of all is the freckled girl. A Cancer. A harbinger of death. Dark green clouds of disease spew from her hands. With one breath, the soldiers’ bodies seize.
A slaughter …
A slaughter, not a fight.
Only three maji battle, yet the soldiers crumble beneath their power.
It’s worse than the destruction of the divîner camp. At least then, the soldiers were the first to strike. But now their premature fear seems justified.
Father was right.…
There’s no denying it now. No matter what I desire, if magic returns, this is how my kingdom will burn.
“Inan…,” Zélie whimpers. Her warm blood leaks down my hands. The key to Orïsha’s future. Bleeding in my arms.
The pull of duty weighs down my step, but I can’t listen to it now. No matter what, Zélie must live. I can find a way to stop magic after she’s safe.
I race through the empty hallway as the battle rages. I ascend another stairwell. Another blast rings.
The fortress quakes, knocking me off the steps. I clutch Zélie as we fall; this time she can’t muffle her screams.
I brace us against a wall when another blast hits. At this rate, Zélie will bleed out before she escapes.
Think.
I close my eyes and press Zélie’s head against my neck. The schematics of the fortress run through my mind. I search for a way out. Between the guards and maji and firebombs, there’s no way we can escape. But we don’t need to … they’re coming for her. She doesn’t need to get out.
They need to get in.
The cell! I rise. That has to be where they’re headed. Zélie screams as we rush down a stairwell. Her cries join the agony of the night.
“We’re close,” I whisper when we take the last corridor. “Just hold on. They’re coming. We’ll get back to the cell. Then Tzain will…”
Amari?
I don’t recognize my sister at first. The Amari I know hides from her sword.
This woman looks ready to kill.
Amari sprints down the hallway toward us with Tzain following close behind. When a guard charges her with his blade outstretched, she’s quick to slice him in the thigh. Tzain follows up with a blow to the head that knocks the soldier out cold.
“Amari!” I shout.
She skids to a halt. When she spots Zélie in my arms, her jaw drops. She and Tzain rush to meet us. That’s when they see all the blood.
Amari’s hand shoots to her mouth. But her horror is nothing compared to Tzain’s. A strangled noise escapes his lips—something between a whimper and a moan. He shrinks. It’s strange to see someone his size appear so small.
Zélie peels her head from my neck. “Tzain?”
He drops his ax and races to her. As I hand Zélie over, I see that the gauze pressed to her back runs red.
“Zél?” Tzain whispers. The loose bandages reveal the full extent of her wounds. I should’ve warned them.
But nothing could prepare anyone for the bleeding MAGGOT carved into Zélie’s back.
The sight shatters my heart. I can only imagine what it does to Tzain. He holds her. Too tight. But there’s no time to criticize.
“Go,” I urge them. “Father’s here. More guards will come. The longer you wait, the more impossible it’ll be to escape.”
“Come with us?”
The hope in Amari’s voice cuts me. The thought of leaving Zélie makes my chest tight. But this isn’t my fight. I can’t be on their side.
Zélie turns back to me; fear floods her tearstained eyes. I lay a hand on her forehead. Her skin scorches hot against my palm.
“I’ll find you,” I whisper.
“But your father—”
Another blast. The hall fills with smoke.
“Go!” I shout as the fortress shakes. “Get out while you still can!”
Tzain rushes off, carrying Zélie through the smoke-filled hysteria. Amari starts after him but hesitates. “I won’t leave you behind.”
“Go,” I press. “Father doesn’t know what I’ve done. If I stay behind, I can try to protect you from the inside.”
Amari nods and follows Tzain, accepting my lie with her sword raised. I collapse into the wall as I watch them disappear up the stairwells, crushing the desire to follow. Their battle is won. Their duty fulfilled.
My fight to save Orïsha has only begun.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
ZÉLIE
ESCAPING THE FORTRESS is a blur, a painting of madness and pain.
Through it all, my back rips open; with each tear the agony burns raw. My vision goes black, but I know we’ve escaped when the heat of the fortress opens into the cool night air. It whips against