The two females began to bicker but heard the whistling sound of an incoming projectile just above their heads. Quinn waited a beat to see if it would pass them, but no. It wasn’t passing them. It was coming right at them.

Quinn grabbed both females and charged toward the tunnel entrance, diving in just as the stables were destroyed.

* * *

Gemma rode back after she heard the explosion and quickly dismounted from her horse. Farlan and Cadell helped her move the dirt off Quinn and Laila, but it was Quinn who dug out Ragna. Good thing since Gemma hadn’t realized the woman was with them.

“Are you all right?” Gemma asked Laila, brushing the dirt from her friend’s face.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Quinn?”

“Yeah,” he said with a cough that mostly brought up dirt.

Ragna, however, just wiped her eyes, gave one cough, and walked off to find her horse, which had thankfully gone in ahead of her.

“Do you guys need help?” Gemma asked the siblings.

“We’re fine. You go.”

Gemma again mounted Dagger and rode ahead.

“Pick up the pace!” she urged. “Let’s go!”

She wasn’t sure how long the rest of the brotherhood could hold Cyrus’s legions at bay. And the tunnels were only big enough for seven or eight mounted knights to pass. So she and Katla, Shona, and Kir kept everyone moving while Ragna rode ahead to meet with her army, the bulk of which had been sent off four days before, according to Shona.

The desire to go back was still there for Gemma, but she knew it wasn’t what Thomassin and the others wanted. So she pushed on into the same tunnel she’d taken when she’d returned to her family the first time two years ago. She pushed on even though this time it felt like it was killing her inside.

* * *

Thomassin sat on his horse and looked at his two battle-cohorts. He was glad to be riding into battle with them again. Glad to again be bringing honor to their god in a sacrifice of blood and death.

He nodded once and Brín raised the banner attached to his steel spear.

Thomassin took in a deep breath and then gave the Order of Righteous Valor charge command one last time: “Kill everyone!”

* * *

Quinn was bringing up the rear when he found Gemma standing in front of a smaller, unlit tunnel that shot off the main one everyone else was traveling. She was just standing in front of it, not moving.

He stopped and stared down at her.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked.

“This should have been closed off.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“I guess. But Cyrus’s men could come up behind us now.”

“Where does this go?”

“To a ritual site under a sacrificial altar outside the monastery.”

“Do a lot of sacrificing, do you?”

“Just bulls before certain battles,” she said with a dismissive wave.

“Do you want to take a look?”

“No.” She shrugged. “But we’d better.”

He grabbed a torch from the wall and together they began walking. They didn’t speak. Both of them had a lot on their minds, Quinn was guessing. He just wanted to get out of these tunnels. He hated tunnels. He liked being outside. With fresh air. Besides, he’d already been trapped once by a falling ceiling; he’d prefer not to test his luck a second time.

The tunnel abruptly turned up ahead and as they went around the corner they stopped, coming face-to-face with a small unit of Cyrus’s soldiers. It was almost comical, the way they all stared at one another. Clearly neither expected the other to be there. But then the leader of the other group pulled his sword and Quinn pushed his burning torch into the man’s face. He screamed in pain and Gemma pulled out the gladius she still carried and immediately started stabbing those closest to her.

The other soldiers stabbed back. Quinn was able to block most of them, but one blade made it through, slashing Gemma’s arm. She hadn’t been able to put her chainmail back on after her earlier fight with Sprenger so she wore only her cotton shirt. The blade cut through the material easily and straight across her flesh.

Startled, Gemma yelped from the pain but it was the explosion from the wall that had her and Quinn falling back, raised arms blocking their eyes to protect them from rocks and dirt.

Quinn heard horrifying screams, tearing flesh, and bones being crushed.

He forced his eyes open to find that half-dead horse thing standing there with someone’s head in its mouth.

“Gemma.”

Gemma lowered her arm. “Kriegszorn.” She glanced at Quinn. “See? Value.”

“See? Head in her mouth.”

There was something farther up the tunnel that caught the creature’s attention. It growled and barreled off toward whatever it was.

“Kriegszorn!” Gemma called out.

“What are you doing? If it wants to kill something that’s not us, let it kill something that’s not us. Now come on!”

He brought Gemma up with him and pulled her onto his back.

“Hold on!” he ordered, racing back to the main tunnel and then catching up to the others.

They reached Gemma’s horse Dagger and she quickly jumped off Quinn’s back and mounted her horse. Together, they continued down the tunnel, eventually reaching the others.

Quinn looked back but didn’t see anyone following them. But that half-dead thing had heard something. She’d gone after something. He was afraid to know exactly what it was.

* * *

The battle had raged on for longer than either side had expected. Thomassin knew that all those who had died this night could go to their god with honor.

Pleased that he’d done all he could possibly do, he dropped to his knees and looked down at the spear that had pierced his chest. Bartholemew and Brín had gone to meet Joshua minutes before. So it was his turn to follow the others into the next world.

He saw Cyrus’s precious wizards moving toward him. They wanted his soul apparently, but he wasn’t going to let them get it. Both Bartholemew and Brín had died before the wizards had a chance to take theirs and he would make sure he did the same. He reached for a blade that was close by but a general slammed his foot onto Thomassin’s hand, stopping him from doing what he needed to do.

“Sorry, heretic, but there is no easy escape for you,” the general told him. “So just accept it and—”

It came out of nowhere. A thing Thomassin had never seen before. Half of it looked like any normal horse, but the other side . . .

The other side just looked dead. Extremely dead. But as dead as it might look, it fought like it was still alive and very pissed. First, it impaled one of the wizards on what appeared to be a tusk. Then it bit the arm off another wizard before impaling him too. It stomped the third wizard into the ground. When it was done with them, it turned on the general still holding down Thomassin’s hand.

“Unclean thing!” the general cried. “I shall destroy you in the name of my god!”

It studied the general a brief moment before looking down at Thomassin, making him feel as if it was asking permission to do what he could not do for himself.

Smiling, Thomassin nodded his approval and the thing that had saved his soul from these bastards unleashed a cleansing fire that released his soul to the war gods he had fought for until his very death.

* * *

When Gemma finally made it out of the tunnel, she and the remainder of her entire order were miles from the monastery. And yet . . . they could still see it burning even from where they stood.

She climbed a large rock and stood staring, gawking really as the flames and smoke rose high into the night sky and the life she’d known for a decade was destroyed.

She wanted to cry. To scream. To destroy the world with her rage and pain and heartache. But she couldn’t do any of that. Not now.

“You have a job to do,” Ragna reminded her.

Gemma closed her eyes, wishing that of all those who had died this night, one of them had been gods-damn Ragna.

“I know. To get everyone to Keeley’s territory.”

“No. Ainsley can do that. Or Samuel. You have another job.”

Gemma jumped off the boulder in front of Ragna. “And what’s that?”

Ragna handed her a scroll with a map printed on it. “Go here. See if any of the representatives of these sects arrive and provide them protection on the journey back to your sister’s castle. I’ll meet you there.”

Gemma looked at the list on the back of the map. “Wait a minute. These sects you have listed. These are all our enemies.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve actually burned these witches at stakes.”

“At least six times in the last two hundred years.”

“And didn’t we annihilate these temple virgins?”

“Don’t be silly. We just burned their temple to the ground. But now we can say we know how they feel, can’t we?”

“And these truce vicars—”

“We cut out their tongues because we accused them of lying about us. Yes, that was an ugly period between our two groups. But all these sects are in as much danger as we are from Cyrus’s men. So I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to overlook our unfortunate history in order to move on to a bright and prosperous future. Together!”

With a brusque pat to Gemma’s shoulder, Ragna mounted her horse and ordered everyone to move out. And she meant everyone. When Laila attempted to stay behind with the rest of Gemma’s original travel group, Ragna made it very clear that would not be permitted.

Not wanting any more drama, Gemma told them all to go. Of course, Laila tried to argue, but Gemma wasn’t in the mood for well-reasoned centaur arguments. Nor was she in the mood for Samuel’s loyalty or her battle-cohorts’ willingness to risk Ragna’s wrath so they could stay by Gemma’s side. She wanted them all gone.

The last thing Ragna did before she rode off with her entire army and all of Gemma’s friends was toss her a second travel bag. It wasn’t until Gemma opened it and found a white tunic with Morthwyl’s rune emblazoned on the front and back in bright red that she burst into tears and allowed herself to cry.