I glanced down. A familiar face looked up from the blood-soaked snow. The boy who'd accused me of being worthless—who'd blamed me for his brother's death.
There was nothing but a face. If his body lay nearby, I didn't see it. Blood streaked across the snow, leading to his severed neck.
Bile rose in my throat, but I couldn't look away.
I'd saved them for nothing. What was the point of Paragons if the people we saved died anyway?
Doubling over, I emptied the contents of my stomach and stumbled away from the severed head. Pain shot through my side, and I fell to my knees in the center of the road.
Surrounded by my failure.
I heard footsteps approaching, but didn't look up. A pair of black boots stopped before me, and their owner knelt at my side. A hand reached out, brushing my tunic back to take my wrist.
The world changed. The smell of fire and blood turned to sea salt and twilight. Night fell from the heavens and engulfed the world, spilling into a tranquil, endless sea.
Diar was beside me, bare hand wrapped around my wrist. Her turquoise eyes met mine, and my head cleared.
I remembered this feeling, this sight, back in Kentoro, when our paths had briefly crossed.
"You're alive," Diar said. "Did they do this to you?"
They. Somehow, I knew who she meant. Nodding, I looked around. "What is this place?"
"I don't know. It happens with Ferris, too."
A crow with a missing talon cut through the shadows above our heads. Diar's eyes rose with mine, though she focused on the beautiful white heron that soared behind it.
"He's back," she muttered, releasing my wrist.
We left the tranquil world behind. Fire and blood and snow replaced the calm.
I gasped, shuddering and shaking, reaching for Diar's retreating hand, wanting nothing more than to return to our quiet world.
The crow had always heralded danger. Today was no different.
A group of shatterblades departed the gates and approached us. They walked in perfect step with one another, disciplined and composed. General Yuudai strode at their head, bloodstained sword leveled at his side.
Blood trailed from his forehead, down the side of his face, and more blotted the arm of his black leather armor.
Diar stood, and for the first time, I noticed the weapon she clutched: Twin daggers, forged from pure frost.
Siotha.
I rose to my feet, though my body protested every motion. With but a small gesture from the general, the shatterblades drew their swords and fanned out, surrounding us.
My hand tightened on Cierthine.
Reese was going to kill me, wasn't he?
If I survived this.
"Never," Yuudai breathed. "Never have you shamed me like this. You were never a daughter I could be proud of, but this?"
"Siotha is mine," Diar said, tone even and calm. "And I'm part of the reason the siege stopped before our city was destroyed."
"Were you? You were not at the walls, with your people." Yuudai's jaw tensed as he turned to me. "You. Why does Lavaire's Paragon hover at your side?"
"King Ailithir ordered it," I said. My voice emerged as a scratchy croak. "For him to train me."
