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I won’t be caught unaware again.

On the third day, we finally reach the crossroad Kyldare warned us about. We hear the soldiers before we see them—the low murmur of voices blending with the faint clink of metal against metal.

Our own horses are tied next to me as we stand on a small incline, Kyldare and Calysian a few footspans above me. The incline is too low to be considered a hill, but it’s forested enough that it allows us to see our enemies before they see us. At least a hundred men, most of them sitting idle, scattered across the crossroads in a loose formation. According to Kyldare, they’ve been waiting here for days, and even from here, I can smell sweat, oiled steel, and the musty scent of horses.

Helmets glint beneath the overcast sky, and a wide-shouldered general sits astride a dark mare at the center of the road, his ward already raised.

Kyldare narrows his eyes. “One of Vicana’s generals. He would have enjoyed hearing the queen demand my head.”

I ignore him. It’s not the general I’m interested in. It’s the witch at his side.

If Bridin were anyone else, I might feel pity when I look at her stooped shoulders, her thin bones, her gray hair. But my body reacts to her presence like an animal who has only known pain. The world seems to shrink, the trees surrounding us too close, tension vibrating through the air, pressing against my chest. My instincts scream at me to turn back, to run for my life. But something darker, deeper urges me to lash out. To make herpay.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Calysian slowly turns his head. His eyes are cool and calm as they meet mine, and my traitorous heart slows.

Kyldare gives Calysian a long look. “You said you have enough power for us to kill them all. I hope you’re not overconfident about your abilities.”

Calysian smiles, and Kyldare’s shoulders relax. He turns back to face the regiment.

My heart thunders in my chest.

“If I can’t have your life, I’ll gladly take your death. Think of me as you die choking on your own blood.”

Time turns slow and sluggish. Each heartbeat feels like an eternity. My pulse thunders in my ears.

But I don’t hesitate.

I aim my power in a burst, and the tree next to Kyldare is suddenly engulfed in flames.

He stumbles back, but I’m already twisting, shoving my hand into Fox’s saddlebag and lifting the chains.

Kyldare begins to move, and I direct my flames to his pants. He lets out a sharp yelp, dropping to his knees in an attempt to smother the fire.

I have one cuff around his hand before he understands.

“What—” Realization flickers in Kyldare’s eyes and he strikes out, his blade flashing toward my face.

But Calysian is there.

In a blazingly fast movement, he knocks the knife from Kyldare’s hand, shoves that hand behind Kyldare’s back, and clamps the other chain around his wrist.

The click of the second cuff is loud and final. I extinguish my flames. Kyldare’s legs are burned just enough to be painful, but not enough to cripple him.

I gape at Calysian.

The color drains from Kyldare’s face, terror stark in his eyes. “You fucking traitor.”

Calysian just gives me a wicked smile and turns, waving one hand at me. “By all means, continue.”

There’s no time to attempt to understand him now.

Ignoring Kyldare’s curses, I walk down the other side of the incline and into view.

The entire regiment comes to attention.

“Ah, Madinia,” Bridin says. “We were wondering when you would appear.”

“I have a trade,” I say, my voice carrying across empty expanse between us. I gesture behind me to Kyldare, and the witch angles her head.