Sievers and another guard tried to leap between us, but I shoved them away. There was no way I was giving up a chance to face Cion in the flesh. I grinned. Bringing in Cion was exactly what I needed to make amends with my father.

“I didn’t think you existed,” I said, jabbing my sword toward his throat.

He easily sidestepped the blow. “That’s why I decided to put in an appearance, keep you on your toes. Maybe if I’d done that sooner, you wouldn’t have been so slow in the arena today.”

I cried out as I lunged for him. He ducked out of the way, giving me a clear view of haggard boys taking up arms against the soldiers while another line of smaller boys pulled bucket after bucket from the well and passed it down the line and out of sight. Without the added weight of armor, the Desert Boys easily outpaced their opponents.

One boy without shoes was knocked to the ground, but before the guard he was fighting could deliver his next blow, another boy slid through the guard’s legs and blocked it, giving his friend time to get back on his feet. Behind them, boys were climbing onto the buildings and vaulting off—landing behind two soldiers to retrieve lost weapons and gain the advantage.

Another boy cried out as a blade cut into his arm, and I thought maybe it was a sign we could turn the tide back in our favor. But more boys materialized out of the crowd, some to carry away the injured boy and others to take up the fight where he’d left off. They had the timing and precision of thieves in the way they’d slide in and out.

I pulled my gaze back to Cion. We circled each other. “You’re a plague,” I spat, “stealing water from these people.” I aimed my sword at his midsection. He deflected the blow, refusing to make any attack of his own.

“I doubt you know anything about the plague,” he said. He hopped onto the edge of the stone well to avoid my blow aimed at his knees. “You were locked away in the palace while it destroyed everyone out here. Maybe”—he flicked his sword so quickly toward me it was a blur in the sunlight—“you should have used that time to practice harder.” His sword connected with mine, ripping it away from my hand.

It spiraled toward Sievers, who was fighting off a Desert Boy with curly hair.

Instinctively, I took a step back to avoid the sword now pointed at my chest, but I refused to drop my gaze. I stared dead into the dark eyes of the legendary leader of the Desert Boys.

He smirked. “Too bad I can’t fight in the arena,” he said, lowering his sword and smugly crossing his arms across his chest. “Otherwise, you’d be engaged to me now, and I’d give Achra a leader who actually cares about its people.” He still stood on the edge of the well, leaning against its support beam.