“No.” Asha moved toward him.
“Stay back,” her father warned.
Asha halted. Her gaze locked with Torwin’s. “Don’t you dare.”
Torwin’s gaze never left her face. His eyes were silver sad. “I’ll wait for you, Asha, at Death’s gate.”
Asha thought of Death calling Willa’s name.
Her hands fisted. “Death isnotyour god.”
A shadow passed overhead, making the stars wink out. The soldats shifted uneasily as her father looked to the sky. There was a sound like a rushing of sighs and Asha felt a familiar wind on her face.
A blazing fire shot across the sky, lighting up half her father’sarchers on the rooftops. They screamed and thrashed their arms, burning brightly before falling to their deaths.
Kozu landed next to his rider. The ground shook with his weight. His black scales glittered in the torchlight, and his yellow eye narrowed on the dragon king while his body curled protectively around Asha.
“Now!” Jarek commanded.
Arrows rained down.
“No!” Asha screamed.
Kozu roared as arrowheads sank into his flesh and tore through his wings.
“Strike,” said the dragon king.
Kozu hissed and thrashed. Arrow shafts stuck out of his hide. He didn’t know who to attack first. Were the archers the bigger threat, or the king?
“Strike now!”
Asha looked from Torwin to Kozu and back, frozen.
More arrows flew. Kozu roared with pain and rage. Blood dripped from his wings and ran down his flanks.
The First Dragon made up his mind. He rounded on Asha’s father, leaving Asha undefended.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Jarek draw his saber. She felt him move toward her.
In his panic, the dragon king turned, keeping the slave between him and the fire-breathing monster, using the slave as a shield.
Asha’s gaze fixed on her father’s back. In one single heartbeat, the past, present, and future wove together like a tapestry.
Her mother ice-cold in her bed.
Her brother failing to win his people’s loyalty.
The boy she loved, walking through the gate of the dead. Alone.
This king had to die.
Her fingers wrapped around the handle of her hunting axe. Lifting it from her belt, Asha drew the axe back. She knew the punishment for regicide. She knew the moment her axe left her hand that her life was forfeit.
And still, she threw it.
“No!” Dax screamed.
Asha’s axe sailed toward the dragon king, whistling through the air before carving easily through flesh and bone. A sickening silence descended.
