As he squeezed, the veins in my throat felt like they were tangling around my airway. I dug my fingernails into his hand. He didn’t notice. And he didn’t loosen his grip.

The already hot air in my lungs felt like it was burning through my insides layer by layer.

He was actually going to kill me. He didn’t care about the arena.

But then a voice cried out, “It’s a raid!”

His grip loosened immediately as his eyes darted over my head. “No,” he whispered. His eyes flew back to me, suddenly piecing it all together. “You’re with them.” He let out a cry of rage and flung me toward the soldiers. “Get her back to the palace.”

I threw a glance over my shoulder. Cion was perched atop the well handing a filled bucket to a line of boys. The bucket was passed down the line, and the boy at the end grabbed it, snapped on a makeshift lid, and disappeared into the crowd so that the line got shorter.

Rodric and several soldiers raced toward the well.

The closest guard hauled me away from the square. I elbowed him and kicked the one on his left, which afforded me room to draw my sword.

The shackles awkwardly pulled against my wrists.

The circle of guards around me spread out. These men knew what I was capable of. Or at least they thought they did.

But after seeing those children and the Desert Boys gaunt with thirst, after watching Yeri take his last breath, after learning what my father had done to my mother and sister, to these people, fire was raging within me. Not fire. Heat. The very life of the desert itself. I let it loose on the guards. I struck out at the closest one, catching him in the leg. I didn’t wait to see him go down. I twirled and met the attack of another, driving him backward until another guard came at me. I parried his attack and landed a kick to his chest. My world became a blur of metal and blood.

When the final guard went down at my feet, my chest was heaving.

At least I didn’t have to worry about the crowd. They’d scattered as soon as Rodric pulled his sword. I could hear him shouting curses at Cion somewhere amongst the chaos of Desert Boys fighting guards.

Dimic appeared by my side. “Time to go.” He grabbed my wrist and produced a piece of metal. He shoved it into the shackle keyhole. After a moment, it popped open, sending the chains clattering to the ground.

“Thanks,” I said, shocked at how quickly he’d removed them.

“I’m the best lock picker out of all the boys,” he bragged.

“I’m just glad you came for me at all,” I said, rubbing my wrists.

Dimic gave me a sidelong look. “You’re one of us. We always help each other.”

We headed back toward the well where the fighting was the thickest.