The fight paused.
Augustus straightened and laughed. Arms wide. “What’s the matter, Captain? Have to claim every drop of Triarius blood for yourself? Or what? You lose a little sleep?”
Thorne, now gripping a borrowed sword, stepped forward. “Someone has to take Cassia’s place on this beach.”
Augustus’s grin sharpened. “Then it’s your lucky day, Thorne.IamCassia’s Bane—her likeness in every way that matters. And your death? Will be exactly as she would have devised it.”
Thorne mirrored his grin. “So be it.”
Cannon fire split the sky.
Offshore, a ship deck erupted into splinters. On another, the hull. Again and again.
Gulls shrieked.
And behind them, the Sandstone Elk thundered closer—unstoppable.
They escaped the arena without thunder or applause.
Smoke clung to Kai’s throat as she and the others staggered through the fractured exit, coughing and stumbling, half-dragging those too weak to walk.
The plan had worked.
The poison burned back to its source. Her warriors would live—barely. Too many were barely conscious, pale and blue-lipped.
But they wereout.
They werealive.
Kai slowed to count heads. Called names. Grunts, nods, and tired smirks answered. Otekah and the Broken Axe sisters supported females between them. Poloma steered others directly to the healers, barking care instructions through the smoke.
It looked bad, but Kai stripped the cloth away from her face and inhaled clean, cool air. They were going to be o?—
Screams ripped through the mountain.
She and the Stormguard turned in unison. It came from the great junction where all nine clan tunnels converged. A bustling hub of trade. Laughter. Safety.
The screaming accelerated. Grew louder. Desperate.
“Able-bodied with me!” Kai ordered, bolting ahead, muscles protesting.
Chaos surged from the central chamber and into the passage, crushing the Stormguard rushing against it. Mothers shielding younglings. Females scrambling and wide-eyed, dragging wounded behind them.
Still, the screams rose.
The chamber air was thick with the scents of sweat and fear.
Kai pushed through, braid slapping her shoulders, scalp prickling. This wasn’t the backdraft. Couldn’t be. Those vents didn’t leadhere.
The hub was a mix of the clans, fear on every face. Those still inside pointed her toward the chamber’s center. Their words clung to her like mist.
“Males.”
“So much blood?—”
“Why?”
The faces she passed had gone ashen. Few stood frozen where they stood, staring at the blood sprayed across their clothes. Younglingsscreamed.
