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Everyone stilled. Waited. Knights stood frozen, confusion and fear on their faces. Igrith watched with worried eyes.

And I continued breathing. Somehow, I drew air into my lungs and kept my heart beating as I accepted what I’d known from the moment Given said “don’t come after me.”

Varick and I were too late.

“How?” I asked, my vision blurring as I stared at Jordan. “How could you stand here and watch her throw herself to her death?”

Jordan kept his gaze on Varick as he answered. “She is the savior of the realm, King Laurent. The choice was hers, and she made it.”

Tears trickled from Varick’s eyes. He tightened his grip on Jordan’s cloak, but I didn’t think it was in anger. Now, it was as if Varick was afraid to let go.

“I could kill you,” I told Jordan.

He looked at me. “You could.”

Varick released him and stepped back. He lowered his sword, letting the tip rest in the dirt. “What happens now?” he rasped, sounding so forlorn I wanted to sink to the ground and sob.

“You’re not scared, are you, Varick? You can tell me if you are.”

“No, my prince. I’m not scared of anything.”

My chest tightened. I pressed my lips together.

“Don’t think about the pain, my prince. If you don’t think about it, you stop feeling it eventually.”

But I wouldn’t. Not this time.

I looked at the knights. At Igrith. I turned and gazed over the Rift. Slowly, anger replaced my sorrow. And then my anger turned to bitterness. I swung back to Jordan and lifted my arms. “It’s all the same,” I spat. “Given died, and it didn’t change a damn thing.” I pointed at him, all the bly’ad I’d earned springing to my tongue. “Fuck your prophecy! You look me in the eye and tell me the truth, or so help me I will kill you where you stand. Tell me!” I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls of the Rift at my back. “Tell me why Given had to die!”

The ground rumbled.

Then it shook.

Several knights were thrown to the ground. The others staggered as they tried to stay on their feet.

“Laurent!” Varick cried, pointing behind me.

I turned and caught my breath. Crack! One of the anchors holding the Bleak Pass in place on the Sithistran side of the Rift snapped. The bridge sagged. Crack! The other anchor went, and the bridge dropped. It swung down and slammed against the opposite side of the chasm.

Someone grabbed me and jerked me backward. Varick. The scent of forest and sword oil filled my nose as he dragged me away from the Rift.

The ground in front of us lifted and rolled like a wave in the ocean. Knights bellowed. Somewhere behind me, horses screamed.

The ground under my feet moved violently, tossing me into the air. Varick caught me as I fell, rolling so he landed first. We hit the ground hard, and I tasted blood.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Worried golden eyes stared into mine as I sprawled on top of him. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” I scrambled off him, fell on my ass, and faced the Rift. Across the chasm, the Sithistran fort broke apart and tumbled into the void.

“Fall back!” Captain Drago shouted nearby. “It’s opening up! Fall back!”

My heart thumped painfully as I watched the ground crumble and buckle.

He was right. The Rift was widening.

A knight sprinted past me. He stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.

The ground heaved.