It was slow going. I was exhausted from my fight with Ragan, from the fall. But Lin was up there alone, doing her best to fend off an army. I could tromp through some bushes.

So I pushed myself forward, leaning on Mephi when my strength gave out or the grass slipped beneath me. He didn’t complain, only kept pulling me onward, a silent support. The sounds of fighting grew louder. We passed several bodies on our way – constructs, shamblers and soldiers.

By the time we made it to the path, my legs were shaking. I knew – if I could just take a moment to catch my breath – I could recover. But over the trees I could see the sea serpent’s raised head. It was inside the palace gates. The wood was shattered, our army in disarray. The screams of citizens who’d taken refuge inside the palace walls drifted through the air. I couldn’t see much when I looked up the path at the fighting, but what I could see didn’t look promising. Our soldiers were disorganized, fighting in loose groups that grew looser by the moment. I couldn’t tell which war constructs Lin had changed to our side and which still fought on the side of the construct army. I steadied my breathing and found the thrum still there in my bones, waiting to be used.

When I’d decided to come back to the palace, I’d thought I might meet my end by Lin’s decree. I hadn’t thought about dying in battle. My mother always said I was short-sighted. But here I was, and I couldn’t leave these people to die, no matter what it meant for me.

And I couldn’t leave Lin to die. I peered over the switchbacks and foliage, trying to find her and knowing it was futile. As futile as this goddamned battle. Nisong and her constructs would crush us. Lin had done her best to bring the islands over to our side, to convince them to send their guards. She’d only been partially successful. I’d hoped that would be enough, but hopes couldn’t spawn more soldiers. I could lie to myself all day long, but in the very back of my mind, I always knew the truth.

“Friends until the end?” I said to Mephi.

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

I wiped the mud from the handle of my staff until I could feel the grooves of the metal beneath. I could see the edges of the fighting just ahead of me, the snarling constructs, the desperate soldiers. I’d make Nisong’s army pay for my life at least.

The drum of footsteps sounded from behind me.

I whirled, and my throat went dry. An army was marching up the slope. Another army. Had Nisong held them in reserve too?