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Her steps slowed when she saw the dark-skinned elves in their midst—a tall, strong-looking woman, and a young man, both of them bloodied.

They didn’t even make it as far as the inn before half the village had gathered around to gawk. As often as the villagers talked about Varai, Zara didn’t think any of them had ever actually seen one before. They all came forward to surround the Paladins, craning their necks to see over one another. It must have been quite exciting for them to finally put a face to their fears.

To Zara, the elves looked more pitiable than frightening. Covered in dirt and blood, squinting in the daylight, their hands tied behind them, they looked like underground moles that had been trapped and brought up to the surface.

The noise from the crowd quickly grew from a murmur to a loud buzz. A few people were already shouting for the Paladins to kill the elves. Others wondered aloud whether there could be more lurking nearby.

“Everyone stay calm,” Theron said, his voice cutting through the chatter. “We encountered a group of night elves in the pass. The others are dead. Fear not.” He picked Zara out of the crowd, and his eyes lit up. “Zara. Your assistance, please?”

She warily stepped forward, her eyes on the Varai. The woman wore a scowl that rivaled Naika’s. The man was glancing nervously at the humans surrounding him, his eyes darting.

“Well met,”Zara said to them.

Both of their heads snapped toward her at the sound of their own language. Neither returned the greeting.

“Translate, if you please,” Theron said. He opened his mouth to begin, but was interrupted by the crowd again.

“Just kill them!” someone shouted, and a few others voiced their agreement.

“Maybe we should go inside,” Zara said to Theron.

“No. We’ll stay here,” Theron said, his expression tightening. He raised his voice so that the whole village could hear. “One of our own is dead at their hands. Let no one convince you that we should feel sympathy for these people. They deserve no mercy. They certainly have none for us.”

Zara felt her throat constrict. She glanced up at Basira, who had come out of the inn and was standing on the porch. Farhana tried to peer around her legs at the spectacle, and Basira ushered the girl back inside.

Zara turned to the elves.“They mean to kill you, brother and sister. You should cooperate with them. At least pretend to.”

The man’s eyes widened. The woman scoffed, looking Zara up and down in astonishment.“You are not our sister, stupid girl. And we will not cooperate with humans. Let them kill us. If that is the Goddess’s will, I accept it gladly.”

The younger elf grimaced.“I’m Devana,”he said.“That’s Jishna.”

Jishna shot a glare at him.“Don’t speak to them,”she growled through her teeth, almost too quietly for Zara to hear.“Don’t you dare say a thing to them.”The fact that she felt the need to remind him said a lot about her opinion of his honor. Normally, Zara would have said there was no point in interrogating a Varai. They wouldn’t talk. But this man—boy?—might have been an exception.

“I will make this simple,” Theron said to the Varai. He circled around to stand in front of them. He made a motion to two of the other Paladins, who pushed the elves onto their knees. “We grow weary of the chase. I grow weary of death. Take us to your people’s hiding place, and let us end this. Do as I say, and I’ll let you live.”

Zara translated. She felt ashamed as the words left her mouth, even if they weren’t her own words. Jishna’s lip curled. Devana seemed to hold his breath. Neither of them spoke. Theron watched them, waiting, and the silence stretched.

Then Jishna spat at Theron’s boots. Zara’s eyes darted up to Theron, watching anger brighten his gaze. His lips twitched.

Abruptly, he drew his sword and plunged it into Jishna’s chest.

The crowd gasped in unison. Zara stumbled back in shock. The world seemed to stop moving.

Jishna made a strangled sound as blood leaked from the spot where the sword penetrated her, dripping down her front and staining her clothes. She never moved her gaze from Theron’s.

She pitched forward as Theron jerked the sword out of her. The gathered villagers cried out in alarm and disgust as steaming blood rapidly pooled on the ground. People quickly backed away to avoid the growing circle of red. Someone in the crowd fainted.

Zara’s heart pounded in her ears. Her vision narrowed and spotted, and the blood was all she could see. The smell of hot iron and raw meat hit her nose. She wasn’t sure whether she was breathing. She wasn’t sure whether she was still inhabiting her body.

Suddenly, she was watching Kashava die again.

She looked up at Theron, who was looking down at Jishna with a look of disinterested contempt.

That was the moment when Zara realized she hated him.

Theron and the man who had killed Kashava were one and the same. They were people who destroyed proudly, without care. The death of the person she loved most in the world was nothing to them, her erasure so mundane and trivial that they would not even remember her face the next day.

She hated him.