I follow the guard down one level to a doorway lit by torches. The smells wafting out here are more fresh—blood, sweat, fear. A sour taste forms at the back of my mouth.

Arxa stands in the center of the room, his back toward me. Chained to the bloodstained wall is the man who almost killed me on the mountainside. The Shidadi opens his one eye and looks at me, pleading, and for a moment, I feel like I should know this man. I look away.

“Dineas,” says Arxa. “Good. You came.” He gestures toward the prisoner, who looks as if he’s been freshly abused. “This prisoner will be questioned thoroughly about his rebellious activities. He’s committed a grave crime against the empire, and it won’t go unpunished.”

A strange sensation is going through my limbs. I can almost feel shackles around my wrists, and my heart is starting to pound against my rib cage. The walls around me close in, and I find myself wishing for a window.

Arxa turns to me. “This prisoner claims to be an outsider, that he was a simple villager conscripted against his will a month ago. You remember fighting him. Would you say his skill matches his story?”

The entire day was a blur, but I do remember that desperate roll down the mountainside. I remember him pinning me down and raising his knife to strike me. In my mind he turns the knife hilt-first as he prepares to bring it down on me.

No, that can’t be right.

“He’s a veteran soldier, sir. He gave me quite a bit of trouble.”

Arxa nods at a guard standing near the prisoner, who strikes the man across the face. The prisoner coughs and spits blood.

“And that is how Ampara rewards liars,” says Arxa.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve seen much worse on the battlefield, but nausea is starting to rise in my stomach. Spots dance before my eyes. One of the guards in the room coughs, and I startle at the noise.

Arxa speaks again. “Dineas, you are to be commended for your actions on the mountain. Prince Kiran wishes to recognize you, Walgash, and me at the spring festival, for guarding his life.”

It takes me a few moments to understand what he’s saying. “I’m honored, Commander.”

“As you should be,” says Arxa. “Kiran does not bestow honors lightly. But he is well pleased with you, as am I.”

I don’t say anything because my stomach is clenching in painful spasms.

Thankfully, Arxa turns his attention back to the prisoner. He waves me away. “That’s all I need you for.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

I make it ten steps out the door before I throw up.

Chapter Thirty-three