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Suddenly his nimble fingers wound around the reins, his grip like iron.

“Flames and hounds and corpses be damned,” Charlie muttered, throwing back his cloak to free his arms. One hand went for his shortsword. “And damn me too.”

With a snap of the reins, he urged the horse forward, and she broke into a run. His heart rammed in his chest, matching the beat of her hooves against the ashen ground. The blizzard swirled, the clouds red with flame, all the world turned to hell. And Charlie rode right into it.

The gate loomed, with burning streets beyond. A path unfurled, beckoning the fugitive priest.

At least it can’t get worse, he thought.

Then something pulsed in the sky, behind the clouds, a thump like a tremendous heart.

Charlie’s spine turned to ice.

“Shit.”

The dragon’s roar shook the air with all the fury of an earthquake.

His horse screamed and reared up on her hind legs, her front hooves pawing helplessly. It took all Charlie’s will to keep his saddle. His sword fell to the ground, lost to the ash and snow. He watched with wide eyes, unable to tear his gaze away.

The great monster burst through the dark clouds over the city, its jeweled body red and black, dancing with the light of flame. The dragon twisted, born of the god Tiber and the glittering realm of Irridas.The Dazzling Realm, Charlie knew, remembering it from scripture. A cruel place of gold and jewels, and terrible things corrupted by greed.

Fire curled from the dragon’s jaws and its claws gleamed like black steel. Hot wind blasted over the walls, carrying snow and ash and the bloody, rotten smell of dragon. Charlie could only watch as the Spindle monster crashed down into the city, toppling towers and steeples.

His quill had traced many dragons over the years, drawing patterns of flame and scale, claw and fang. Batwings, serpent tails. Like the Infyrna hounds, the reality was far more horrible.

There was no sword he could raise against a demon such as this. Nothing a mortal could do against a dragon of a distant realm.

Not even the heroes could survive such a thing.

The villains might not either.

And certainly not me.

Shame rose up in his throat, threatening to choke the life out of Charlon Armont.

But for all the Ward, for all the realms, he could not go any further.

The tears he wished for finally came, burning and freezing in equal measure. The reins twitched in his hand, tugging the horse away from the city, from the Spindle, from the Companions. From the beginning of the end of the world.

Only one question remained now.

How far can I go before the end comes for me too?

In all his twenty-three years, Charlie had never felt so alone. Not even the gallows had seemed so bleak.

It was past nightfall by the time he was finally out from under the blizzard and the ash clouds. But the smell of smoke clung to his skin like a brand.

“I deserve it,” Charlie muttered to himself. He swiped at his face again, wiping away long-dried tears. His eyes felt red and raw, just like his broken heart. “I deserve every awful thing that comes my way now.”

The horse blew hard, her flanks steaming against the winter air. Exhausted, she slowed and Charlie obliged, easing her to a halt. He slid gracelessly from the saddle, bowlegged and sore.

He did not know the map of the Ward so well as Sorasa or Corayne, but Charlie was a fugitive, not a fool. He could navigate better than most. Grimacing, he drew a parchment map from his saddlebags, and unfolded it with a squint. He was still some miles from entering the Castlewood. Ahead of him, the mighty forest ate up the distant horizon, a black wall beneath the silver moon.

He could keep heading east into the Wood, using the thick trees as cover against any pursuit. Adira lay in the opposite direction, far to the west through enemy territory. He thought of his little shop beneath the broken church. Among the quills and ink, the stamps and wax seals.

I will be safe there, Charlie knew.Until the end. Conquerors eat the rot last.

Unfortunately, the path back to Adira wound too close to Ascal. But he did not know where else to go. There were too many roads to walk.