Ghrasia started awake. Grabbed her sword. Shoved it forward just as the door opened.

The small woman in the doorway jumped back. “Ghrasia Madah!”

Ghrasia shook herself awake. She had been dreaming of blinding-trees. “I’m sorry. What is it?”

“One of the refugees is shouting. Arasia said to bring you upstairs.”

“Of course they’re shouting; they’re–”

“The legionnaires are going to press them against the gates, just like in the Pass War. Please!”

Ghrasia swore. “I’m coming; all right.” She knew why Arasia wanted her on the gate. She didn’t want the blood on her hands. No one wanted the blood. Gods. She thought of Ahkio. And Nasaka, and what Nasaka could do to her daughter.

Ghrasia dressed quickly and walked up to the ramparts. It wasn’t even dawn yet. On the ground below, she saw a girl dressed all in white, standing among a half circle of figures.

There were already two dozen militia on the walls. Arasia strode toward her. “She says she’s the Kai,” Arasia said.

“Well, that’s obviously untrue,” Ghrasia said. “I was just with the Kai in Raona, and I can assure you this person is of the wrong type.”

“Well,” Arasia said, low, “some people do say he’s the wrong type, really. The Kai has always been able to bear–”

“Hold your ground. They are just refugees.”

Lilia glanced over at Taigan. She was watching the sun rise along the horizon directly behind them.

Taigan held up a hand, telling her to wait.

Then Taigan nodded.

Lilia held out her arms. She felt the Seekers behind her tense. She took a deep breath. She heard more shouting behind them.

Someone screamed, “Dorinahs!”

Lilia focused on her breathing. She felt the heat of Oma just beneath her skin. She held it but did not draw it. Just in case. She had fallen too many times already.

“I’m ready,” she murmured.

Her skin began to itch. She felt the suns at her back, cresting the edge of the world. She turned her head up, toward the top of the wall.

Something cold crawled up her spine. She resisted the urge to grab at it. The air around her became heavy, murky. She took deeper breaths.

Her skin began to glow, a soft amber light.

Her view of the wall altered. It looked like the wall was getting shorter, but she was actually moving upward. She kept her arms out, trailing white ribbons. She did not look down but concentrated on the top of the wall. A false wind caught at her bound hair, the streamers in her hands, and blew them back behind her. The wall was rushing past her.

Lilia flew.