“You know that no one is sentenced to Gazar for ‘a few weeks.’”
Ghoa takes a step closer. “How about this: If you tell me what you know of Temujin, I will lessen Serik’s sentence. Suggest an alternative form of punishment.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t even going to tell me he was in prison. Why would I believe you’d follow through on this offer?”
“Because I’m your sister!” Ghoa erupts. “How could you honestly choose a deserter over me, after everything I’ve done for you? I haveneverdoubted you. I didn’t walk away when the rest of the world washed their hands of you. Doesn’t than mean something to you? Don’t I mean something to you?”
My tongue pulses with all of the words I could say to prove my love and gratitude, but Ghoa’s claims don’t match her expression. Her jaw is set and her shoulders are rigid. Her fingertips fidget at her hip—where that flap of worn leather would be if she were wearing her armor. But it’s the glint in her eyes that chills me most—an eerie, detached resolve that reminds me of the hellish days following the death of Chinua, the former commander of the Kalima warriors. Ghoa had worn tracks into the floor of our tent from pacing and murmuring to herself. Not out of grief for our fallen leader, but obsessing over who would take his place. She was willing to do anything to claim the title, and when her turn came to prove her merit, she ordered longer and more dangerous missions into Zemya. She doubled each watch and quickened every march. Pushing, pushing, pushing to prove her proficiency.
Despite these monumental efforts, the king addressed his next correspondence to me.
Only because he’s worried you’re overextending yourself,I’d assured Ghoa. Though, secretly, I’d been delighted to see my name embossed in gold. Secretly, I’d been pressing my night spinning further than I ever had, hoping he might consider me for the promotion. I didn’t want totakeit from Ghoa, of course. But the position wasn’t yet hers. And she was already letting the taste of power go to her head.
“Desperation is never a good look,” I say—the same admonition I gave her back then.
Ghoa’s eyes flare with recognition, then fury. This isn’t something the submissive, obedient Enebish would say. It’s something Enebish the Warrior would say.
My words clang in the space between us like the Gesper Temple bells.
She steps closer, her hair as white as frost. A wash of ice pours across the ground, freezing the snow beneath my feet. “I will ask you once more, Enebish.” Ghoa carefully enunciates each word. “What do you know of Temujin?”
“And if I choose not to tell you?”
“I’ll do what I must to protect my king and country.”
“And I’ll do what I must to protect my family.”
“Am I not part of that family?” Ghoa’s voice breaks on the last word, but it’s too late for her to pretend to care.
“Why don’t you ask Serik?” I bellow.
Ghoa clutches her head and screams, “Enough!” A pulse of frigid air knocks me back and the icicles hanging from the trees fall like harsh, chiming raindrops. But instead of crashing to the ground, the shards hurtle toward me like daggers.
I’m so stunned, I can’t move.
I try to fling myself sideways, but my legs are disconnected from my body.
At the last second, Orbai leaps into the air and veers in front of me.
The tiny blades slam into her chest and shred through her wings. She stops abruptly, as if she slammed into the solid walls of Ikh Zuree, and hangs in the air for a terrible second before she plummets.
Her shriek rends the quiet—a horrific, warbling howl.
She crumples to the snow, thrashing and keening. Gleaming ice protrudes from her chest, along with an oil slick of blood—so dark and thick, it’s nearly black.
I can’t look away from it.
This isn’t real. Itcan’tbe real.
I drop to my knees and scream at the top of my voice. “What have you done?”
My ribs are shrinking. Breaking. I can’t breathe.
Ghoa staggers forward, a wail caged behind her hands. “I’m s-sorry,” she cries. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“What have you done?” I shout again. Blood coats my fingers as I claw at the glistening shards. Tears clog my nose and mouth. I am choking, sobbing, drowning. Sinking, severing, shattering. Until there’s nothing left of me.
Only the monster.
