Hugo, the particularly cruel Tingaran who had once threatened Amber with the vats, loomed over her, a blood-drenched sword in his hand. "I always thought you were too clever for your own good," he said.

Lying on her back, Amber grabbed the glass bowl and clutched it to her chest, eyes transfixed by the droplets of blood that fell from the end of Hugo's blade.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amber saw Samora running towards her, a wooden bowl in her hand.

"You piece of filth!" Samora cried as she flung out her arm.

Nothing happened. Samora's bowl was empty. The woman looked at it dumbly, and then threw the bowl itself at Hugo. The warrior laughed and took a step forward, swinging his sword like a woodcutter attacking a tree. As Amber watched in horror, Hugo sliced through Samora's skull, sending bone and matter flying through the air. The Halrana woman's body crumpled to the ground.

Hugo turned back to Amber, raising his sword over his head with two hands. In desperation Amber held the glass bowl out to block the blow; she knew it was the thing that must be protected above all, but she couldn't control her limbs, her body simply wanted her to survive.

A sword came out, blocking Hugo's stroke a hair's breadth from the glass. Amber's eyes were closed, and as she realised she was alive and heard yet another clash of swords, she opened them.

Leopold stood grimly facing Hugo as both men faced circled each other, swords extended in front of them. Amber saw the former prince of Altura wobble and place a hand at his chest, grimacing. Flecks of red appeared at Leopold's lips and he coughed. Amber didn't know if he'd been hurt earlier, or if Hugo was responsible, but she knew Leopold was deathly wounded.

"Go," Leopold choked. "Get out of here."

Amber stood, the glass bowl in her arms, and looked at Leopold one last time before running in the direction of the tower.

She couldn't tell if the revolt was being crushed or the prisoners were holding their own against their tormenters. Explosions came from all directions, and screams of agony could be heard along with cheers of victory. There were simply too many figures running about; she could see guards fighting, but prisoners also ran in all directions as they finally expressed their rage and frustration in one vengeful moment.

The two guards on the platform at the top of the tower continued to throw prismatic orbs, adding to the chaos. Amber awkwardly held the glass bowl at her side, climbing the ladder one-handed, leaning into it to steady herself, wondering how she was going to defeat two healthy, trained, and armed warriors.