The rest of my protectors plow through the masses, steering me toward Javier. But one by one, they are taken out, and my guilt proves sharper than any sword. I’m the reason they’re targeted.

    When I’m on my own, a young ML launches an attack against me. I maneuver him into a wall and point a sword at his throat.

    “I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell him, and despite the burst of energy provided by the manna, I’m panting. “Let’s—”

    “Shut up and die!” He kicks me, knocking my ankles together.

    I stumble but remain upright and block his sword with my own.

    Where are the Generals?

    With a growl, the ML goes for my throat. The instinct to survive is ingrained, and the need to protect my people and the humans around us surges through my veins. I dodge his blow and lunge, extending my arms and ramming both of my swords into his torso. The tips stick out the other side of him.

    He grunts with pain, his pupils flaring with surprise.

    We never expect to reach the end, do we?

    Questions bombard me. Is he leaving a family behind? Will children be without their father? Brothers and sisters without their best friend? A mother without her son?

    Stop! Move on. Reach Javier.

    I yank, but one of my blades remains trapped in his bone; the handle begins to vibrate. Or he is vibrating? The color drains from his skin, leaving him chalk white...no, no, his skin is darkening. He’s now gray. Stone gray...stone that cracks, crumbles, and explodes. Ash rains.

    I gape, confused and revolted.

    To the left, a blaze of Light appears, nearly blinding me. In the center, Meredith appears, a Pyre in hand.

    She slays the Myriadian in front of her—the one who’d been sneaking up on me. “The human is this way.” Her gaze slides past my shoulder and widens. “Look out!”

    I dive. Too late. From behind, a Glacier nicks my thigh. My skin splits and Lifeblood hemorrhages. Instant pain and weakness. Bile rises up, but I swallow it back.

    Meredith closes in. My attacker has two metal swords; he uses one to take another stab at me and the other to slash at my grandmother. No! Not her! We both manage to block.

    She kicks and nails him between the legs. In this, spirits react as humans. He howls as he hunches over.

    With a single swing, she removes his head. It’s a bloody, violent death, but I have no more regret to give. I want my grandmother safe.

    When Meredith releases the Pyre, it vanishes. She helps me to wobbly legs, then palms two axes. Together, we surge onward. She hacks at three...four...six MLs who make a play for me, effectively dividing their attention.

    This woman...she is a true warrior. A magnificent sight to behold. Every spin, slash and kick is almost too swift to track.

    “Be ready,” she shouts over the craze. Then she pushes an ML at me.

    Knowing what she wants, I mimic her earlier move and ram my knee into the guy’s midsection; as he hunches over desperate for breath, I swing one of my swords. His head detaches, and his body crumbles, Lifeblood glittering, spurting and pooling.

    Meredith shoves someone else my way, but familiar blond hair and blue eyes bring me to a halt.

    Sloan?

    She’s sallow and trembling, unprepared for the horrors of war.

    Is anyone ever prepared?

    Lifeblood streaks her face and chest and soaks her hands. Her mouth is hanging open at an odd angle, her jaw broken. Mewling sounds escape her.

    Strike! What if she turns around and kills other Troikans?

    Still I hesitate. There’s good in her. I know it. I can’t punish her for it.

    “I’m sorry,” she slurs and backs away from me. “I’m so, so sorry.”

    I plant my feet, refusing to give chase.

    Meredith shoves another ML in my direction. He bows his back to avoid my kick, and my leg flies through the air. My momentum spins me. Laughing, he lifts a sword. His mistake. Instead of attempting to slow my momentum, I go with it, continuing to whirl. My swords slice through his middle, one after the other before he can deliver a single strike.

    Entrails spill onto the ground. I gag, not because the sight disgusts me. It doesn’t. His organs are hauntingly beautiful, glittering like jewels. The fact that I like the look of them—that is the problem.

    A whoosh of wind, then a loud boom! The ground shakes, a Buckler engaged.

    I trip over my victim, and I’m too weak to catch myself. Zero! I’m still hemorrhaging. At this rate, I’ll soon experience a total collapse.

    Determination took me further than skill, but I’ve reached my limit. I don’t have the strength to stand.

    “They’re closing in on us!” Meredith shouts.

    Her warning comes too late. We’re already enclosed. MLs form a wide circle around us, caging us in. Behind them, TLs struggle to reach us.

    A shot rings out—

    “Nooo!” Meredith jumps in front of me, meaning to block the bullet with the swing of her sword, but in her panic her aim is off and the bullet cuts through her chest. She cries out, her body jerking as it falls.

    The moment she hits, three daggers sink into her stomach.

    No. No! I scream with an agony of the heart rather than the body. Leave her alone! Please!

    Rage driving me, I swing my swords at the offenders. While the tips miss the MLs by a hairsbreadth, it doesn’t matter. A shower of Light—flaming metal shards?—flies from the ends of my weapons and slashes every offender across the throat.

    As they gasp for breath they can’t catch, I position myself over Meredith’s body to act as her shield. I will protect my grandmother with my life.