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“What’s the plan?” Kellyn asks.

“The plan is to save her.”

“I know that, but we’re outnumbered, and you and Petrik can’t fight. So it’s to be me versus how many?”

I do not want to hear how outmatched we are. Why can’t he just—

“It’s unlikely any of them are skilled with weapons,” Petrik says. “They’re farmers. And Volanna is an elderly woman. It’s just her three sons.”

“Are they small lads?”

“Uh, no,” Petrik says.

“Great. If you get me killed, bladesmith, I will find a way to cross back over to the land of the living and haunt you forever.”

“As long as you save my sister in the process, I don’t care.”

We don’t bother checking the estate first. Petrik said they left in the direction of the church, so that’s where we go. It’s on the far end of town, near the outskirts of the city.

When we reach it, we note a small crowd gathered around the outside. Bodies are packed together, trying to get a look over one another’s heads.

We plow straight on through, pushing people out of the way. When one big man doesn’t budge, I poke him with the sheathed shortsword. Kellyn parts people, shoving with his enormous shoulders, and Petrik trickles behind him in the path he makes.

When we finally get inside the chapel, we find all the pews filled, people standing in the spaces between, all staring up at the stand.

Where Temra is bound and gagged.

Pain rips through my chest at the sight. This is all because of me. Because of what I can do. I brought us here. I did this.

The priestess says something, but I can’t make it out over the pounding of my heart. Some sort of horrible drivel, I’m sure. Making an example of my sister and the horrors of magic.

Volanna and her sons stand next to the priestess. My uncles are resolute, but Volanna looks almost sad by the turn of events. As though it greatly pains her.

But not enough to stop this, apparently.

The priestess holds a wicked dagger in one hand, the blade curved, perfect for eviscerating and watching things die slowly.

No.

We’re still running. Still shoving. Trying to reach the top.

The priestess gesticulates with the blade. Punctuating her remarks. Each time it inches toward Temra I think I’ll lose my mind.

We’re not going to make it to the front in time.

“Stop!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

The priestess and my relatives look up, trying to find the voice in the crowd.

“I’m the one with magic. You have the wrong sister. I’m the one who needs to be sacrificed!”

Kellyn turns to me. “What are you doing? Shut up. Are you trying to make this harder?”

“Let her through!” a voice rings out. And the bodies shove aside, leaving a path up to the stand.

“Never mind,” Kellyn corrects. “Carry on, bladesmith.”

There’s no way we can fight everyone in this room. I had hoped it would be only Volanna and her sons, but of course the priestess would want to make a spectacle of this. We’ve no hope of fighting a hundred or more city folk.