An arrow flies at me, and I stop it with my swords. Another arrow follows, then another. Too many, too fast. A sharp pain suddenly explodes between my shoulder blades, and I cry out. I’ve been hit!

    Agony swims in my veins, and black dots wink through my eyes.

    I ignore the terrible sensations and keep swinging my weapons. Once again, blazing shards fly from the tips. The surrounding MLs expect the deluge this time and duck. Zero!

    A dagger is hurled at me. Despite my pain, I manage to block, and the blade pings to my feet. From the corner of my eye, I detect a blur of red. I pivot, but I’m not swift enough—an arrow lodges in my shoulder.

    The new flood of pain is quickly overshadowed by a surge of acid. Poison? I hiss as spiderwebs of black weave through my mind.

    The world shakes, and I sway. My ankles buckle, the tendons suddenly detaching, and I scream as I fall. I can’t breathe. Can’t see. The pain...it’s too great, and it’s only getting worse. The swords tumble from my grip.

    I try to yank out the arrows, but I don’t have the strength. Lifeblood gushes from me. Frigid cold envelops me.

    With a whimper, my grandmother turns her head. Judging by the pinch of her lips, the action is torture. Our gazes meet, my mismatched eyes suddenly linked to the beautiful amber windows to her soul, a soul now filled with regret and sorrow. White-hot tears catch on my lashes, and her image blurs.

    This can’t be the end of her—of us. Someone will swoop in. Someone will come to our rescue. Or we’ll be beamed back to Troika, out of danger before a deathblow can be delivered.

    Yes. —Beam us up!—I scream at anyone who might be able to hear me. —Please!—

    Meredith mouths a single word. Live. Then she closes her eyes. Muted Light begins to glow from her ears...nose...mouth...the tips of her fingers...her pores...so much Light, only growing brighter and brighter. Confusion grips me. What’s happening? What’s she doing?

    MLs scramble backward. Then...

    Her body—utterly—explodes.

    MLs wail and topple as Light and Lifeblood splash over them. Light and Lifeblood rain over me, too, but they are warm and welcoming.

    I have the strength to remove the arrows and dagger. My wounds begin to cauterize, and the cold leaves me.

    She did this...she did this to heal me...she did this to save me.

    She died.

    No, no, no. She isn’t gone. She isn’t entering into the Rest. Not Meredith. My wonderful, amazing Meredith.

    I need her. I need her now. I need her always!

    She was kind to me when others were not. She loved me when others could not. But she is...she’s gone, isn’t she? She’s joined Archer in the Rest, because I failed to stop the war. Because I failed to protect her. Because I failed her—period.

    TLs encircle me, shielding me from further attack. I hate that they are endangered. I don’t deserve their help.

    “Get her up,” a voice yells from a distance. General Spike, I think.

    “You can’t stay down, Ten.” Reed’s voice, closer than the General’s but still far away. “Hurry!”

    He’s right. I can’t stay down. I have to do what Meredith came here to help me do. I have to get to Javier. Then I’ll mourn. Then I’ll cry... I’ll cry and never stop.

    I’m trembling as I sit up. My shield of TLs has already thinned; only three are still standing...and Reed is the next to fall. I suck in a breath as an ML pins him to the ground, smiles and readies a blade.

    No!

    With a roar, I swipe up my swords and swing. He blocks, but he isn’t prepared for my second swing. The blade cuts through his shoulder, and he howls. Reed works his legs up and kicks the ML in the chest. He flies backward, and I follow, menace in every step, both of my ankles healed and steady. The moment he hits the ground, I’m there to meet him.

    I remove his head without a moment of hesitation.

    “Thank you.” Reed and the other two TLs bound off to meet a new group of MLs headed my way.

    The trio is quickly trampled, the soldiers surging past them. If I’m going to die, I’m going to take as many MLs as I can with me. Bring it!

    Something cold and hard suddenly presses against my back. I stiffen, preparing to turn and strike. I catch the scent of peat smoke and heather and my heart leaps. Killian. Killian is here.

    To help...or to hurt?

    No time! As another ML closes in from the front, I detect the cock of a gun behind me.

    Grinding my teeth, I fake left, swing with my right, spin—block—and swing with my left. Like his comrade, the big brute avoids the first but not the second. The blade slices through his middle. He falls, revealing another ML.

    Killian shoots the new one between the eyes.

    He keeps shooting. In quick succession, eight Myriadians join the others on the ground.

    Killian is helping me, at the same time ensuring there are no witnesses to his deeds.

    The earth shakes, the Buckler vanishing. Injured TLs begin to vanish, as well.

    Killian leads me into an alley hidden between two towering buildings. TLs are driving MLs farther down the road, away from me.

    At the moment, I’m safe. But I’m too keyed up to sheathe my swords.

    Killian doesn’t seem to mind their presence. He presses his forehead against mine and whispers, “Remember your trust in me.”

    “I remember.” I long to sink into his arms, to cling to him and forget the horrors of the day. Forget the loss I’ve suffered, and the broken heart dying inside my chest.

    “Good.” He straightens and glares at me, as inflexible as steel. Fury radiates from him. “Your realm should have known better than to send you. It’s what Myriad wanted. It’s why they had an army watching Javier.”