He was in extreme pain, but even more terrible was the realization that he was dying.

I could not bear it.

I remember Tom falling facedown onto the stones, the saber blade protruding from his back. Only one person moved; everyone else was stunned into silence.

It was Grimalkin who splashed through the water and ran to where Tom lay. She lifted him carefully and carried him up the bank toward us. She passed quite close to where I was standing. I saw that his face was ashen. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and blood dripped from his wound, leaving a red trail on the grass.

He was dead—I was sure of it. I could sense nothing from him. But Grimalkin was a powerful witch. Could she use her magic to save him?

As I stared at Tom, Grimalkin met my eyes.

“The sword! The sword! Get the Starblade, child!” she shouted at me. “Keep it safe!”

I hurried away in the opposite direction from everybody else. I splashed through the water, averting my eyes from the severed head of the Shaiksa assassin, and across the stones to retrieve the Starblade.

It had been made for Tom, but he wouldn’t be able to use it now. Why did Grimalkin want it? I wondered.

I followed the crowd, carrying the rusty sword in my hand. A throng of people had gathered outside the prince’s huge tent.

That must be where Grimalkin had taken Tom.

Desperate to help, I tried to squeeze through to the front, but it was impossible. A double row of blue-jacketed Polyznian guards were holding everybody back; they started to advance, their spears at the ready.

It was hopeless, and the situation was starting to turn ugly. Most of the crowd retreated, but some of the soldiers of the other princes stood firm. The guards had provoked a hostile reaction, and swords were being drawn.

I could do nothing, so I made my way back to our camp and crawled inside the tent. I laid the sword on the ground beside my blanket, then curled up into a ball and tried to forget what had happened.

I couldn’t sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw the fight over and over again. I felt Tom’s terror and anguish—I couldn’t stop it. I began to sob.

How long I lay there, I don’t know. But after a while I heard someone come into the tent. A candle was lit, and I opened my eyes and saw Grimalkin sitting cross-legged on her blanket. Her eyes were closed, and she was rocking backward and forward, her arms clasped across her chest. There was blood all down her front, and on her bare hands and arms.

I shivered with cold and misery. I knew that it was Tom’s blood.

I sat up and faced her. “Is he dead?” I asked.

The witch assassin opened her eyes and glared at me. She looked angry, and I didn’t think she was going to reply.