They climbed to the roof, where the pyre was ever ready.
From here they could see the city. Dawn had risen, and light had spread across the tiers. The fighting had spread from the firstand second to the third, fourth, and fifth to engulf all of Cerre in screams and smoke.
Together, they laid Eklor’s body on the pyre. The wood was stored in a dry cabinet on the rooftop. Zera unloaded it and carried bundles that she placed beneath the pallet the body lay on. The pallet was a latticework of iron, able to be used and reused.
Kreya tried to focus on the task at hand—making sure Eklor couldn’t return—but her eyes kept being drawn to the battle that raged on every tier. She spotted several of her stone giants, and as she watched, one was yanked down to the street. Constructs swarmed over it as if devouring it. It didn’t rise. Her heart squeezed as she thought of Jentt and Stran in the middle of the chaos. She prayed they were all right.
I should be with them, fighting alongside Jentt and Stran and Marso. Zera should be feeding us all talismans. We should be back-to-back, watching one another.
This didn’t feel right.
We should all be together.Never mind that she was the one who had ordered them to separate, and never mind that it had been the right decision, even theonlydecision. They couldn’t have both stopped Eklor and fought the army if they’d stayed together.
Instead of a talisman, Zera offered her a fire rod. It was stamped with the symbol of the Bone Workers Guild. “You want to do the honors, my dearest friend?”
Kreya felt the weight of the fire rod in her hand. It had been used to light many pyres. She wondered if it had been used for anyone she knew. Staring at it, she didn’t move. She heard the sounds of the battle—the screams, the scrape of metal on stone,the crash of walls collapsing. She tasted smoke in the back of her throat, of fires that burned in fallen homes, and she inhaled the coppery metal tang of Eklor’s army.
Destroying Eklor wouldn’t end the battle. He’d built his constructs to last.
“First Eklor, then the army,” Zera coached her.
Still holding the fire rod, Kreya crossed from the pyre to the lip of the roof, looking out across the city. Not far from the guild, she saw the body of a child, twisted unnaturally. A woman lay not far from him, her throat torn. A man in a bone worker’s coat was clutching his leg, and even from far above him, she could see he was spattered in blood. Another of her statues tumbled, falling from the third tier to the second. A guard fought, outnumbered, by the gate. She saw a construct’s spear pierce his throat.
We’re losing,she thought.Eklor may be dead, but he’s still won.
There were too many of them, and the city was ill prepared. It was going to fall, Kreya realized. Maybe not in the next hour. Maybe not this day. But she could see it already beginning to turn. So many bodies already lay strewn in the streets.
“The aqueducts will run with blood, and the city will fall,” Kreya said. “There’s no way for any of us to stop it.” Only the army’s creator could stop it. “No one alive can stop it.”
She hated what she was thinking.
But she could see the battle and the future stretched before her in blood and smoke.
“Hehas to stop this.”
“Oh no. Kreya, no, absolutely not. You have had terrible ideas before. Trust me when I say this is your worst yet.”
Kreya turned to face her, the battle at her back. “I can’t think of any other way. His creations . . . they won’t stop, theywon’t slow. At least not soon enough to save the city. You know that. He built them to last for years.”
“He’ll never agree to help. He wants this, his revenge!” Zera waved at the destruction. “He already has everything he wants!”
She was right. What could they offer him to get him to agree to help? “He doesn’t just want that,” Kreya said. “He wants to be seen as a hero. You heard him. He wants to be a benevolent god, who was wronged by the evil people he destroyed.”
Yes, it was a terrible idea. But she didn’t have any other. And if they didn’t stop the army, she’d lose them all. Jentt. Stran. Marso. Amurra. All the people who had risen to help defend their city. The bone workers, the guards, the innocents.
Lowering the fire rod to the ground, she approached the pyre. She’d have to cut out the bone he’d pushed into himself while casting his warped spell so that he couldn’t reactivate it, and then she’d have to give him some of her life.
Jentt, forgive me.
She took a breath, and Zera caught her arm. “If this is the only way, then use me,” Zera said. “It’s my turn. Let me be the one to sacrifice.”
“I’ve hurt you enough.” She’d abandoned her. Doubted her. Taken her for granted. At least she could spare her any more pain.
Zera snorted. “I’ve forgiven that, or haven’t you noticed? Kreya, you aren’t doing this alone, remember? Besides, we don’t need to revive him for long, right? We’re taking moments, not years, long enough to stop the army. A few minutes is not such a great sacrifice to save the lives of the people we love. And, you know, everyone else. Please, Kreya. I want to bear this burden.”
Kreya shook her head.
“It’s my choice,” Zera said. “Not yours. This is it, Kreya—themoment you prove whether you’ve changed. Respect my right to make this choice about my own life.”
