I plant my feet.
Luc stops. “What the hell are you doing?”
I look at the sledge again. Virdei is outnumbered. General Fain thinks we’re going to lose, and the Petruvians in the arena aren’t going to stay there forever. We won’t have a second chance. If we miss this window of opportunity, all of this was for nothing, Virdei will be overrun by Petruvia, and it will be my fault.
“I’m going to transport the tshira to the arena,” I say.
“What?No. Absolutely not.”
I push the magic flowing through me from General Fain’s lie into my bracelet. “I’m not asking.”
Behind us, there’s a grunt. A Petruvian just stabbed General Fain in the leg. He’s still upright, but he’s moving with a limp. We’re running out of time.
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Luc says.
“She won’t,” Kaidren says. “I’m going with her, and I’ll make sure of it. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”
Luc ignores him. “I said no, Mira.”
“We need to take care of Petruvia, andyouneed to not die. Those are the only things that matter right now. We don’t have time to argue. Just trust me and get the hell out of here beforeyou get yourself killed. Now,go.” I shove him away and rush over to the sledge before he can stop me.
He shouts after me, demanding I turn around. Demanding I come with him to safety. I ignore him.
Kaidren reaches for a fallen sword. I don’t think he has any idea how to use it, but it’s the only weapon we’ve got.
I climb onto the bench behind the greyhorns, and Kaidren steps onto the front of the sledge.
My hands sweat beneath my gloves; more drips down my back. I take the reins, heart pounding so loudly, I hardly hear Kaidren call my name behind me.
“Yeah?” I put on my mask, trying to swallow my nerves and the overwhelming fear of failure.
“Please don’t die.”
“I’ll do my best.” My voice trembles. “And ifyoudie, I’ll find you in hell and make your afterlife miserable.” With a deep breath, I tug on the reins and pat the side of the ox—and we’re off, skidding out of the stables, headed for a battlefield of ice and an arena packed full of Petruvian soldiers.
CHAPTER FIFTY
PLAYING WITH FIRE
It is almost always the dark season in Virdei, so I’m used to gray skies and never seeing the sun. But without the beacons shining atop Widow’s Hall, the mountain is dark and haunting.
Wind whines around us, rustling trees in the distance that I can’t see. Wood creaks with the ever-shifting mountain breeze. And ringing above it all is the sound of stone clashing against metal as the kingdoms of Virdei and Petruvia go to war.
In the darkness, I can see only a few paces ahead, but I direct the oxen to move quickly.
Well, I try. They’re stubborn and terrified, so they move at a slow trot, huffing anytime something appears suddenly in their path with the limited visibility.
There’s a flash of metal ahead. I yank the reins to the left, urging the greyhorns to swerve.
They grunt as they reluctantly shift. The heavy sledge rumbles as we glide over the ice past a soldier. Now that we’re passing her, I see she’s in indigo—Petruvian.
Behind me, Kaidren cries out.
Metal slices the air, followed by a thud.
I tense, pulse picking up speed. “Kaidren?” My voice shakes as I call back to him.
“I’m fine.” He’s out of breath. As soon as he’s spoken, the greyhorns stomp harder. The sledge shudders as we pass over something—another body.
