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chancing a glance at him. He was surrounded, and soon even the ether of his sword would not be enough.

The smuggler was ripped from Yoma’s grasp and pulled into the creature. Only a few strands of red hair stuck out from its side.

“Avienne! No!” Yoma felt her insides boil, her vision becoming black. Her anger exploded, covering the world in light for an instant. She remembered the warm embrace of Mirial, as she had felt it on the Victory, when she had wished for nothing more than to save Josmere. She called out again, not with her voice but with her thoughts, hopes and fears. Her breath ripped out of her in a warm gale; her body was struck with heat so great that her fingers and legs grew numb. Mirial responded with a caress on her cheek, like a kiss blown from far away. The world spun, and her limbs tingled again. Her eyesight returned and she blinked. The land was free of the creatures; there were only knives strewn about on the ground. Avienne sat up and stared at her, eyes wide.

Yoma blinked again. She wanted to see if Zortan was okay, if she was dreaming, but her body would no longer respond.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breaths, not surprised when she felt herself meet the ground a few seconds later.

CHAPTER 39

Avienne still leaned against Yoma, but now Yoma needed her strength as well, the ether having greatly sapped her energy.  She couldn’t quite focus her eyes and she found that concentrating on the ground at her feet made her dizzy, so she looked up instead, towards the horizon. Beyond the hills would be the capital where, according to Zortan, the shields should still exist. Thoughts of rest and safety spurred Yoma on and they slowly made their way, guarded by Zortan’s deep shadow.

Yoma caught Avienne glancing at her sideways.

“What is it?” Yoma asked. She wished they could stop for just a few minutes so that she could grab a nap.  Just a few minutes would restore her, she was certain.

“How did you do that?” Avienne asked. “I mean, killing all of those things in one blow? If I could have done that…” She dropped the idea, pulling a piece of tar out of her hair in disgust.

“I don’t really know. I just sort of wish it true, if that makes sense.”

Zortan walked before them and carefully examined every crevice, sword in hand. Yoma was certain he was listening closely.

Avienne was quiet for a few moments, long enough that Yoma thought the smuggler had dropped the conversation. She was surprised when Avienne spoke again.

“Well, I’m glad you wished that. I mean, thanks,” she mumbled, then turned and flashed her a brilliant smile. “I still have things to do, you know! Not a good way to go, all dirty and tarry.” She winced as she put too much weight on her wounded ankle.

Avienne took a deep breath and focused on Zortan instead, reassuming her indifferent manner.

“How come your sword can kill those things?” Avienne asked.

“It’s the sword of the Captain of the Royal Guards. It’s meant to protect royalty against any attacker.” He shot Yoma a look, and added, “And it can track missing royalty.”

“No wonder I can’t shake him,” Yoma mumbled.

“Can’t someone else use it to track down the twins?” Avienne asked.

“The sword can only be used by those most loyal to the heirs. It can’t be used against them.”

“Oh.” Avienne sounded disappointed.

“My sister is coming from the other side. Can you sense that, Captain of the Royal Guards?”

Zortan hesitated. “Yes, but only faintly. The power is weaker, split in two.”

“I need you to promise me something, Zortan,” Yoma said, her footing more sure as her next words gave her strength. “Promise me that you’ll protect Layela before me. If you have to choose, protect her, not me.”

Zortan kept his gaze focused ahead as he answered. “I can’t promise that. If one of you is to die, my blood will also be spilled.”

“Oooooooooh,” Avienne murmured, her interest perked.

Yoma was about to reply angrily when they stepped out of the hills, and words were lost to her. Before them lay what could only be the capital. Domes and towers rose from the ground, woven into cliffs and mountains, glittering white in defiance of the red light. In the centre was a thin tower, tall and proud, bearing the emblem of Mirial on a cloth that flapped in the wind despite the heavy air.

The sight of it tugged at Yoma’s heart.

“This is where you and your sister were born,” Zortan said, stopping to look, as well.

“Looks pretty dead to me,” Avienne said. She kicked a rock in disgust. Yoma looked at Avienne in surprise. It was the most spectacular city she had ever seen! But when she turned back, she sucked in her breath as she saw how the city had changed from the vision that had shrouded it a moment before. The towers had long ago crumbled, the domes collapsed, and the high tower bore but a tattered, limp rag. The buildings were scorched and black, as though a great fire had raged and consumed all in its path.

“What happened here?” she whispered. She clung to the earlier vision in defiance of the broken wreck that now lay before her.

“Your mother died, ether was unleashed and people suffered.” Zortan resumed walking, but Yoma could not tear her eyes away from the rag, seeing the banner and its beautiful emblem so clearly in her mind. Flowers had been interwoven to form a giant flower which hugged a sun, filled with colours that would rival the best painter’s palette.

“Come on,” Avienne whispered urgently. A familiar gurgling was rising in the horizon, beyond the hills.

She moaned and they began walking. Zortan waited for them and let them pass first, his sword ready as the gurgling grew louder.

“The shields have to be taken down before we can pass,” he said casually, as though it were the simplest thing to

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