He was pinned.
Hewlett thrust his sword down.
Zane threw all his weight forward, catching the blade on his swollen hand. The thrust tore through his palm, and he roared.
Hewlett yanked his blade free.
Zane slammed his knee into the back of Hewlett’s. Hewlett’s legs buckled, and as his boot thrashed towards the ground for footing, he toppled. Zane rolled into a crouch. Hewlett’s hip hit the platform, and Zane lunged, landing on top of him. Driving his elbow into Hewlett’s neck, he pinned his sword arm down and wrenched the hilt from his grip.
His head pounded. As he grasped Hewlett’s sword, blood pulsed from his burning wounds and soaked his shirt.
Holding Hewlett’s sword over his throat, Zane coughed, “Yield.”
A glob of blood burst from his mouth and landed on Hewlett’s chin. Hewlett thrashed under him, trying to free himself. Zane’s eyelids drooped. He dug the blade deeper, and scarlet beads spurted from Hewlett’s neck.
“Yield!”
The world was slipping into a void of darkness. His empty lungs burned. He tried to breathe, but a band of agony tightened around his ribs. A warm, metallic tang filled his mouth. His eyelids drooped. If he could just let them close… and why couldn’t he? Someone, something… something important…
Panicked blue eyes and golden hair. A woman leaning over a balcony. The image rippled, zooming in and out, distorted by warping arcs of color. But he saw her face. Her fear. Her trust.
The man under him was shouting something.
Darkness swam around him.
For Kalie, he drove the blade through Hewlett’s throat.
Something cold dribbled down his chin. Scarlet droplets pelted the stone beneath him.
His arms gave out, and he collapsed. The sword clattered out of his hand.
He was laying in a puddle of something sticky and wet. His hands were covered in it. Blood. Blood bubbled out of his gut. His body was numb and cold. Cold, everything was cold. Chills crept across his skin, and he trembled violently.
Someone was cheering. Screaming. A series of tinny shrieks ripped through the air. Something was happening, but that was another world entirely. That world was gone.
His eyelids crashed down. He didn’t fight them.
A bright, blurred world swam around him. He was standing, and the buzzing shapes solidified into a bombed-out compound. Crumbling walls jutted through the rubble of what had been a courtyard. A breeze whistled past, scattering dirt and dust over rusted beams half-submerged in sand.
In the center of it all stood a woman with sleek black hair.
Lysa.
Her bloody uniform was gone, replaced by a faded varsity jacket and sweats. Smears of mud coated her skin, and gleaming medals dangled around her neck. She looked like she’d won another holoball tournament.
Zane braced himself for the familiar pangs of guilt, but none came. A strange sense of serenity washed over him.
“I think I understand now.”
Lysa smiled.
Her black hair morphed long and blonde, her figure shifted into a pale, slender woman, and her eyes shone the brightest shade of blue. The ruins vanished. Grass rippled through the valley, and flowers bloomed, leaving them standing in a shining meadow. A glowing white light pulsed on the other side of the field.
Holding out a hand, Kalie motioned for him to follow her. He did.
“No!”Kalie howled, lunging into the elegant railing. Her chest pulsed at the impact, but it was nothing compared to the gut-wrenchingagony as Zane’s hand fell limply to his side. Blood pooled around his broken body, so hopelessly far below her.
Bracing her shaking hands on the gold balustrade, she heaved herself up and tried to swing over the railing. She would jump, if that was what it took to get to him.
