“El, take him and go,” he told her.

Eliana stared at him, Remy in hand. “You’re coming with us.”

“Simon can’t spare more grenades. I can hold them off.”

“Are you mad? You can’t shoot worth a damn.” She grabbed Harkan’s arm. “And there are too many of them. They’ll kill you!”

Simon yanked Remy from her grip, roared, “Eliana, now!” and hurried across the bridge, sheltering Navi and Remy against his body. The two halves of the bridge, lowered to bring in supplies for the fete, had begun to raise. Remy looked back frantically for Eliana, but arrow fire from the city’s inner wall rained down upon them, and soon he was lost to the night.

Eliana grabbed Harkan’s hand. “Come on—”

But he stood firm, pulled her in to his body for a clumsy, hard kiss.

“I’ve always loved you,” he whispered against her mouth.

“You tell me this now?” She wanted to smack him. A sob burst out as shaky laughter. “You idiot—”

A nearby explosion nearly threw them off their feet. The adatrox had detonated one of their own bombardiers. Behind Eliana, the bridge shifted and groaned.

“I can handle this.” Harkan shoved her toward the bridge. “Go!”

She stared at him for a helpless, frozen moment, drinking up the sight of him—the dark fall of his hair, the beautiful square line of his jaw. Her throat filled up with all the things she had never said, and all the things she had.

None of it was enough.

She turned and fled across the bridge, not looking back even as she heard Harkan open fire. He cried out, and her chest seized around her heart. She ran blindly across the shaking bridge, jumped across the gap at the top, and stumbled down the other side. She joined Simon as he fought through the tower guards, Navi and Remy close behind them.

With each step she took, each swipe of her blades, grief struck her. Tears and smoke left her half blind.

First her mother, now Harkan. Her best friend. Her light on dark days.

She had left him. She had left him.

She listened for his gunfire and heard only chaos. The adatrox archers on the city wall shouted commands to one another. Simon hissed at her to move faster. He grabbed a bombardier from a fallen adatrox, triggered it, threw it back at the guard tower.

The explosion threw them off their feet. Eliana’s chin hit the ground. A shock of pain jolted her skull. But they had destroyed the tower, collapsed the bridge. It would give them a few minutes. She pushed herself up.

Past the bridge, they hurried into one of the scattershot encampments that had formed outside the city—refugees fleeing the dangerous countryside, hoping for a chance to get in the city. The camps were pandemonium. People bolted away from the city walls, trampling the slow and sick. Bleating animals ran crazed from their pens.

Still holding Remy close by the arm, Simon tossed Navi his adatrox cloak. She caught it and drew the hood up over her face. Two soldiers in threadbare cloaks found them with a pair of saddled horses. Others raced past them toward the city wall. Red Crown rebels, Eliana assumed, all ready to die to protect them.

Good, she thought. Their deaths will buy us time.

“Take the boy,” Simon ordered. Navi nodded, her face hidden. One of the rebels gave her a leg up, and then helped Remy before running toward the wall with the others. The last rebel turned to face Simon, her battered face lit with some inner fire.

She put a fist to her heart and then to the air—the Red Crown salute.

“The Empire will burn,” she said.

Simon inclined his head. “May the Queen’s light guide you.”

Then the woman was gone.

“Wrap your arms around my waist,” Navi murmured to Remy, “and hold on tight. What’s your name?”

“Remy,” he answered, glancing fearfully over at Eliana. “Where are we going?”

“No.” Eliana emerged from her numb shock, backed away from Simon. “I ride with Remy.”

“Sorry,” Simon replied. “Can’t have you tearing off into the countryside before you fulfill your end of our bargain.”

Only days before, she had been the Dread—queen of her own bloody world. Unstoppable and unchallenged.

Now, she was in danger of losing everyone she loved, and she could do nothing to stop it. Nothing but leave the only home she had ever known and trust her brother’s life to a stranger who would not answer her questions.

Her unraveling patience snapped.

She accepted Simon’s outstretched hand, climbed up behind him, and brought Arabeth to his throat.

“Tell me where we’re going, Wolf, and why,” Eliana murmured, “or this ends right now.”

Navi urged her horse slowly toward them. “My friend,” she said to Eliana, “I swear to you, he is not our enemy.”

“Navana is a princess of Astavar,” Simon answered, “and we are taking her home.”

“The Empire’s invasion is coming much sooner than we had thought, and in greater numbers.” Navi looked out from her hood, her gaze grave and earnest. “I must warn my people in time, or Astavar will fall. This is not information we can trust to the underground.”

Eliana stared at the girl. It was impossible: a princess, posing as one of His Lordship’s concubines. An invasion.

Astavar will fall.

And if it did, so would the world’s last free kingdom. The Undying Empire would rule all.

“Will you please lower your damned dagger?” Simon snapped. “We’re wasting time.”

Eliana did, and Simon threw her a murderous glare over his shoulder before adding, “Try not to fall off.”

As they fled through the eastern hills, leaving the city of Orline behind them, they passed the crest of land where the statue of Audric the Lightbringer had once stood. Now there was only bare land, scorched and gray from war.

Still, as they passed the spot, Eliana felt the old pang in her heart for the dead king and thought a prayer she had not allowed herself to say in years:

May the Queen’s light guide us home.

13

   Rielle

“From sky to sky

From sea to sea

Steady do I stand

And never will I flee”

—The Earth Rite

As first uttered by Saint Tokazi the Steadfast, patron saint of Mazabat and earthshakers

The mountain was falling down around her.