Soulguides shepherd those who’ve already passed, but soulrenders steal from the living. They can’t help souls pass on. They can only manipulate and destroy them. It’s a small but significant distinction. They are a blight to shamanic magic, a legacy of fear that remains even now in the existence of the Dead Wood.

I swallow thickly, the truth pushing the air from my chest as I knot off my bandage. Then I tuck the throwing knife into my belt and rise unsteadily to my feet.

Ahead of me, Jonyah suddenly turns, allowing Prince Meilek’s blade to slice into his shoulder so he can slam the back of his fist into the prince’s jaw. Prince Meilek staggers, the distraction just enough for Jonyah to plant a knee in his gut and steal his sword.

Fury sends energy coursing through me, chasing away the fatigue and confusion.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Jonyah shakes out his hand. He grimaces as the movement strains the cut in his back. He does nothing to stop the bleeding.

When Prince Meilek’s head lifts, his eyes have gone flat, the promise of death in that gaze. It’s a promise he won’t be able to keep, because I’m going to kill Jonyah first.

“Don’t,” I say. The word is meant for them both. Prince Meilek doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t attack Jonyah, either.

Jonyah smirks and stalks toward me. “Finally you show some sense.”

When he’s near enough to grab for me, I snatch the throwing knife from my belt and stab his arm.

With a shout, he drops the sword. I lunge for it, but he kicks it into the shadows. I narrowly dodge his knee as I jump back, putting space between us.

Cursing loudly, he pulls the small knife from his arm. “You can never make anything easy, can you, Tshauv Taws?”

“I’m going to kill you,” I say, limping backward. It hurts to move my entire left side, but I grit my teeth and bear it. I’ve endured worse. Kendara made sure of that.

I catch sight of Phaut’s body. Anger crystalizes inside me. I draw a slow, deep breath, relishing the pain in my throat, in my leg, in my heart—a reminder of what I will bestow tenfold on Jonyah. Already, calm sweeps through me, a cool breath of frost that numbs the worst of my pain.

Jonyah scoffs. “You’re going to kill me after you saved my life at the teahouse? I wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I regret it daily.”