“He stole my horse! He knew what would happen! He stole my horse!”

The butt of a switch lands against my stomach. A second blow punishes the back of my head. All the echoing pain has me on hands and knees, with the world tilting around me.

“Get him up and get him inside,” Atl commands.

Hands move me. Someone twists both arms behind my back and starts tying my hands together. I can hear Atl and an official bickering about paperwork. Atl quietly reminds the man of his rank and of his ability to use that against the man if needed. Someone calls out a taunting jeer from the other carriages, but I can’t make out which rider it is. I’m shoved into the back of a carriage. The door slams shut.

I wait in the dark cabin, thinking. Atl has come for me. Antonio gave me ten faces to trust, and his is one of them. My fears quietly shift. Away from fear of an arrest and to the fear of being discovered. What if the officials question him? What if they don’t believe he’s really there to arrest me? There’s a faint rattle as the other carriages start moving again. I hear their wheels and their horses grind past us, grow distant, and fade. There’s silence outside of our carriage until the door opens again. A toss of black night and distant stars frame Atl’s figure.

“Let’s get you home,” he says softly. “The Reach is marching.”

I frown at him. “But I didn’t win.”

“You did the next best thing,” he answers. “That vid of you coming down the homestretch is playing on every screen in the world right now. We all saw you nosing ahead at the end. And we all saw the flash of light that knocked you off your horse. We saw it the night before when you tried to go for Revel. Even some of the Ashlord analysts were questioning their methods. Everyone thinks Pippa cheated to beat you. A victory would have worked, but I think you handed your people something even better. You’re a living and breathing example of the injustice they’ve faced their whole lives.”

So war comes.

Every labor of the last five years has been to take that word from a whisper and make it into a shout. The Reach is rising. The revolution begins. But the expected adrenaline doesn’t come. My mind doesn’t start working through tactics or battle plans. Instead, I see the couple at the Crossing match. The father and his three sons. Capri’s words echo.

You’re just like us.

“We’ll head to the eastern front,” Atl is saying. “You’ve got a war to win.”

Chapter 46: The Brightness