Outside, Dell sucked in fresh air as if he’d never breathe it again before taking the reins of his horse in hand. He followed Bemus down a worn path toward the center of the monastery compound. A full moon cast the entire place in a silver glow, illuminating their way.

As soon as they rounded the side of the main building, both men froze. The square at the heart of the monastery had been turned into a graveyard. White-robed priests lay sprawled across the cobblestones amid pools of their own blood.

“Dell.” Bemus nudged him and pointed toward a column of smoke rising in the distance.

Dell turned back to his horse. “We won’t find any help here.” He pulled himself up onto his horse as Bemus did the same before the two men thundered back the way they’d come.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, people came running in their direction, their screams jolting through Dell. He dug his heels in and veered around panicked city-dwellers.

Where were Edmund’s people? The network he supposedly had throughout Madra.

It wasn’t until he reached the palace gates he found his answer.

Half the gate lay in ruins, blown apart by rebels. Amid the fallen stone, royal guards fought rebels. Some of those fighting on the guards’ side wore plain clothes. These were the people Edmund had sewn into the very fabric of Madra.

Just like Dell, he’d given them a cause.

Dell jumped from the horse and pulled his sword, wishing Bemus had allowed him to bring the heavier one.

Bemus clamped a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t win this, remember that.”

“Of course we can,” Dell yelled over the screams of people nearby.

“No. Edmund’s mission was never about saving Madra or protecting the Rhodipus’ reign. He only ever wanted to keep the royal family alive.”

The royal family. Dell gazed past the smoking rubble to the steps leading up into the great entryway. He’d never set foot in the palace before the ball, but now it was the only place he could be.

Shouting erupted to his right moments before a blast ripped through the air. The force of it sent Dell flying to his knees. All those who’d been fighting only seconds before now scrambled to get out of the way of a second blast.

The entire world went silent save for the ringing in Dell’s ears. He scrambled to his feet, searching for Bemus. Someone ran toward him. A rebel.

Dell braced himself for a fight, but the rebel stopped in front of him. His wool tunic had been torn halfway down the middle revealing a knife wound he didn’t seem to notice. He panted, his lips forming words Dell couldn’t hear.