The metal box in Taavi’s hand presses harder to my side as tears stream her cheeks. How could she do this? After all her screwups I looked past, everything I did for her people. Toxic thinking is lethal. It spreads like a cancer. Tears pool in my eyes, but I have no way to even blink to stop them.

“I hate that it had to come to this, saisa.” Kai pulls out a dagger strapped to her thigh and throws it. It pummels through the air, end over tip, heading straight for my chest. I try to breathe, move, get out the way, but fear stills whatever fractured part of me there is left. I close my eyes.

This is the end….

I did all I could.

Literally.

And it wasn’t enough. The wind rustles the bells in my hair. But I am Ghizoni, blood of the Beerchi, brave and loyal, and blood of the Yakanna, loving and fearless. We die with honor, fighting for what we believe in, not living an oppressive lie.

I lived my truth.

And I will die for it.

I wait for death to rip through me, hoping it doesn’t hurt. Hoping it means I’ll get to see Moms and my daddy again.

Then brown and gold dent my peripheral.

Jhamal flings his body in front of me, knocking the metal box aside. Kai’s dagger slices through him and he collapses.

Her shrill cry rips the air.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

JHAMAL!”

His head is cradled in my arms, blood is everywhere, soaking through my pant legs. A tangled mix of rage and sorrow rips through me. I grab a Beerchi by the wrist. “This is your brother, get him to safety. Whatever it takes.”

Kai weeps on her knees, hands cupped to her face.

“Look what you’ve done!” The scream thunders through me, my chest heaving with anger.

Kai reaches toward him as the Beerchi carry Jhamal, who is holding his wound, wincing in pain.

“No! You don’t get to touch him. You don’t get to look at him.”

“I-I just wanted to preserve us. I-I just wanted us to win. Once.” She scrambles up to her feet, deep lines creasing her face, which is swollen with tears. “I loved him so much.”

“Your love is poison.” I aim at her and magic coils around her like a rope, binding her where she stands. She doesn’t fight it. “Leave her there. She’s going to watch the terror she’s brought upon our people.”

I swivel, taking in the chaos around me. The door to the underground is wide open and Ghizoni and Macazi are everywhere, holding lead as shields, blocking streams of magic coming from the few Patrol left. The Chancellor aims, shooting daggers as fast as he can, but he’s only one person. A Beerchi bears down on him holding a sheet of lead the width of his arms.