“Bet Ezra warned her all night long.” Ike chuckled.
A tree branch broke above him with a clack as loud as thunder, and it narrowly missed dashing his brains into mush. He stumbled back into the fire and hopped around briefly, swearing and shaking the coals off.
Ezra didn’t move. Even the forest around us had gone quiet. All I could hear was my coarse breathing, shallow with fear that filled all the spaces where radiance had once bolstered me. I was no better off than a helpless babe, my legs trembling and my arms bound tightly.
“If you’re going to kill me,” I said to Marshall, my lip curling in a desperate sneer, “at least untie me and make it a fair fight.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Ainsley said. For a moment, I felt a dizzying swell of hope. Then she turned to Ezra. “Marshall isn’t going to kill her. You are.”
“Ainsley,” Ezra said hollowly. His hands twisted into his loose shirt as he shuffled a half step back.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered.
“No theatrics,” Ainsley added, shooting Ezra a look. “No gore.”
“I’d fancy seeing her blasted apart,” Ike mumbled where he sat on the ground, rubbing his singed boots. “Broke my nose.”
She looked back at me, a sad smile forming on her pretty mouth. “I’m certain you deserved that, Ike.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” I hated pleading, but I wasn’t eager to die. Not here in the woods. Not by Ezra’s hands when he deserved to die by mine. “I’ll run. I was running already, but Julian … I had to try to save him.”
I hadn’t warned him in time, and he’d died because of me. There was nothing left of him but ash.
“I wish you’d kept running, Josephine Haven,” Ainsley murmured, beckoning Ezra.
Ezra approached as if his boots were leaden, his gaze centered on the tree above my head.
“Look at me,” I spit out. “You should at least look at me when you do it.”
With a small mirthless laugh, Ainsley pulled a long knife from her boot, handed it to Ezra, and took a few steps back.
Ezra met my eyes, anguish etched across his face. It made me want to scream at him. How could someone who had killed Julian with such violence, such disgusting malice, have any regrets now?
My confusion and anger became something hot, a flicker as small as a candle’s flame.
I could feel my radiance again.
They should have left the awful insulation over my hands. They should have let it steal the last of my breath from my lungs. Because now … now I was going to kill them all.
I flexed my fingers.
Ezra’s gaze darted to my bound hands, something dawning in his eyes. It wasn’t fear. It was … relief. He looked me right in the eye, steady now.
Hopeful.
“Marshall,” he mouthed silently.
I had no time to be confused. No desire to question the boy with a knife as long as my forearm.
When I released the first whip-crack bolt of radiance, I angled it toward Marshall and caught him square in the chest. He flew back to land in the fire, howling.
The scuffle before me happened almost too quickly to see. Ezra rushed Ainsley and cracked the handle of the knife against the side of her head with a vicious jab. She folded instantly, and he caught her and lowered her into the leaves with tenderness that didn’t match Marshall’s terrible keening as his clothes caught fire and, too stunned to move, he began to burn.
“Ezra!” I yelled, warning him despite myself.
He glanced at me instead of Ike, who tackled him away from Ainsley’s prone form. This wasn’t a boyish fight; Ike fought to kill. A blade flashed in the firelight, but I couldn’t tell who controlled it. Shaking violently, I levered my back against the tree and managed to stand. There wasn’t much radiance left in me, and I was scared to use it again, scared to lose it if I pushed too hard when it had only just begun to rekindle within me.
Distantly, I noticed that Marshall had stopped howling. He was dead.
