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I say to all of Kymora’s listening soldiers, “I am Ziva Tellion, known for my magical blades. But that is not the extent of my powers. I can bend heated iron to my will, and I’ve magicked the ore beneath your feet, the ore in the mountains. Lirasu is a place of refuge and safety to all who come here. And you cannot conquer it.”
Elany’s face scrunches into fury. “Then we’ll leave and take the rest of Ghadra. I will have my vengeance!” She encourages Kymora’s soldiers to retrieve the pile of weapons. Asks that the wagons be loaded.
But as Kymora’s soldiers try to reach for the stolen weapons, they find themselves unable to touch a single one, as though they’d all been placed in an invisible box.
“Those aren’t yours,” I say. “Ghadra is not yours. These soldiers don’t have to follow you. You need to let this go, Elany. Find another way to achieve justice, because I will stop you if you try to hurt another innocent soul in Ghadra.”
“We’ll all stop you,” Skiro proclaims, standing again.
“We’ve already beaten your forces once. You surrendered,” Elany says with satisfaction.
“And you took great losses,” Skiro responds. “You don’t havethe numbers to take on Ghadra anymore. My brother Verak didn’t send aid, but he has hundreds under his command. With his numbers beating you from the north and ours coming at you from the south, it would be a quick fight.”
I look around at what remains of Kymora’s soldiers. “These fighters aren’t loyal to you like they were to Kymora. How many do you think are interested in following you into a lost cause?”
For the first time, Elany loses some of her confidence. She does a sweep of the area with her eyes, taking note of the fidgety fighters.
And then Governor Erinar appears from seemingly nowhere. “I’m also curious how you intend to pay these soldiers? You won’t reap any spoils from the land as you go. You won’t make it that far. I have vast resources here. And now this land is protected. Maybe some of them would be interested in full-time honest work here? Also I’d wager the prince and princess could use more hands now. Why would they have reason to fight a lost cause when they can take safer work now that Prince Ravis and Warlord Kymora are dead?”
“Someone needs to rule Ravis’s Territory now,” Elany says. “We’ll march there, return—”
“You will not,” Skiro says. “My siblings and I will discuss what is to be done with Ravis’s land. You have no claim to it. The people do.”
“I have all the claim I need! I am a magician. A fighter. Now, we march!”
Not a single red-breasted soldier moves.
“The war is over,” I say. “Stop now before you forfeit your life, too.”
Elany looks about her for a single fellow devotee. Finding none, she climbs atop the warlord’s horse, gives the entire scenery a nasty glare, and gallops away from the city.
Finally, it’s over.
And everything comes rushing back in at once.
I stagger to the ground as my grief, anxiety, pain, exhaustion—everything slams into me, the effects of the magic finally receding.
Tears stream from my eyes at the pressure of all of it finally allowed to come to the surface.
We may have won, but I still lost far too much.
Temra’s arms cradle my shoulders, pull me against her side. Though there’s movement all around me, I can’t bother to focus on any of it. They’re probably gathering the dead, tending to the wounded, doing whatever else needs to be done after a battle. We weren’t exactly able to stick around after the last one.
And I know I should help. I should get up and move, but I’m not ready.
“He’s gone,” I say through my sobs.
“I know,” Temra says.
“I never told him, Temra. I never told him I love him back. Why didn’t I tell him? It was so stupid and petty, and now he’ll never hear it.”
Footsteps approach, and I feel a twinge of embarrassment, but it’s nothing when compared to my grief.
“What’s wrong?” Petrik wants to know. “Is she hurt? Are either of you hurt?”
I feel Temra’s head shake, and then she stiffens. Her arms fall from my sides. “Ziva,” she says.
“Can you hold me just a little longer?” I ask. “I’m not ready.”
