“Petrik, take the staff and spear.”

He does so, running with one in either hand.

I toss the shortsword to Kellyn, who catches it and doesn’t ask any questions as I tie Secret Eater around my waist. I have no intention of using this cursed weapon, but I’ll be more useful if my hands are free. The weapon pulls heavily at me, but I only push my legs harder against the extra weight.

Then I take the shortsword back from the mercenary.

We race across town, not caring who we step on or send careening to the ground. If they’re in our way, they get plowed over. I don’t care. Nothing matters except Temra.

She can’t be hurt.

She can’t be—

She has to be okay.

I send a prayer up to Ebanarra, to Tasminya, to whoever might be listening. Save my sister and I’ll do anything. Anything.

The steep incline is the worst part. The ground rises as we run away from the fjords, toward the east end of the city. But I welcome the pain, the burn in my legs. I’ll take any punishment if it means I get to keep my sister.

“What’s the plan?” Kellyn asks.

“The plan is to save her.”

“I know that, but we’re outnumbered, and you and Petrik can’t fight. So it’s to be me versus how many?”

I do not want to hear how outmatched we are. Why can’t he just—

“It’s unlikely any of them are skilled with weapons,” Petrik says. “They’re farmers. And Volanna is an elderly woman. It’s just her three sons.”

“Are they small lads?”

“Uh, no,” Petrik says.

“Great. If you get me killed, bladesmith, I will find a way to cross back over to the land of the living and haunt you forever.”

“As long as you save my sister in the process, I don’t care.”

We don’t bother checking the estate first. Petrik said they left in the direction of the church, so that’s where we go. It’s on the far end of town, near the outskirts of the city.

When we reach it, we note a small crowd gathered around the outside. Bodies are packed together, trying to get a look over one another’s heads.

We plow straight on through, pushing people out of the way. When one big man doesn’t budge, I poke him with the sheathed shortsword. Kellyn parts people, shoving with his enormous shoulders, and Petrik trickles behind him in the path he makes.

When we finally get inside the chapel, we find all the pews filled, people standing in the spaces between, all staring up at the stand.

Where Temra is bound and gagged.

Pain rips through my chest at the sight. This is all because of me. Because of what I can do. I brought us here. I did this.

The priestess says something, but I can’t make it out over the pounding of my heart. Some sort of horrible drivel, I’m sure. Making an example of my sister and the horrors of magic.