“We are Ashlords,” Revel calls back. “And you are not. It is that simple.”

His words hang above us, bright as lightning. I pause in the middle of the clearing. The two of us stare at one another until snapped branches announce the arrival of the current leader. Bravos edges into the clearing. He takes our measure in less than a breath. It has him grinning.

“So it comes down to the three of us,” he says.

“And if it should come down to that,” Revel replies, “an Ashlord should win, Bravos. The two of us have ridden well. Let’s ride again tomorrow. One final ride for glory.” His eyes fix on me. “We can put down the Longhand together. He grows too bold.”

Bravos considers the offer. His eyes roam back to me. It will not be Ashlord unity that sways him, though. Bravos is—first and foremost—a gladiator. He’s weighing his chances in a fight. Can he defeat me without Revel? His assessment is quick and honest. He shifts his stance until he’s facing me fully, then backpedals toward Revel.

“One final ride,” Bravos agrees. “The crown goes to an Ashlord.”

Revel is nodding, but he’s a bigger fool than I thought if he believes those words. Bravos will use his help to put me down. And then he’ll turn on Revel. His two biggest threats left weak and wounded, their ashes poisoned. Bravos smiles and I know he’s made the same calculations I have. The Races are in his grasp now.

The two of them lower their voices. An exchange of whispers. As one, they shift their stances and start forward. I hold my ground, mind racing. Do I escape into the forest? There’s still a chance they won’t find my ashes, but Bravos is a lot stronger than anyone I’ve fought so far. The Dread’s protection is gone. If I lose this fight, they’ll leave me so broken that gaining ground on the last day will be impossible. I’m trying to calculate the best way to get distance between myself and them when Revel transforms his shield into a baton.

He’s walking a step behind Bravos.

Which is why Bravos doesn’t see the blow coming. Revel brings his switch around in a flawless arc. The wooden baton cracks into the side of the bigger Ashlord’s temple. Lightning punctuates the unexpected blow. Bravos’s body hits the ground and the pursuing thunder rings out as if his fall caused the noise. Revel and I lock eyes through the rain.

“You have two options, Longhand. First, stay and fight. I’m not as strong as you, but I promise I can make this a long night. Or you can go find his ashes and poison them. There’s no way Bravos will recover from that. It’ll be you and me going into the final ride.”