No, Targin wasn’t mine to kill. Ganyir was a broken man because of what his brother had done, and maybe executing him would heal the wounds of his past.
“Surrender,” I said as I pointed the Sundered Heart at Targin’s neck. “You’re beaten. But you have to atone for what you’ve done, and it’s not my place to mete out justice. If you keep resisting, you’ll force my hand.”
Targin looked up at me, and I saw sadness there. The mad fury that had overcome him seemed to fade.
Then, he looked out across the village to where Ganyir was fighting the remnants of the corrupted clan soldiers. His lips peeled back in a blood-flecked snarl, and he raised his fists for another Ground Strike.
“I will never surrender!” Targin roared.
“So be it,” I said.
I slid the blade forward, straight through Targin’s throat. Blood pattered down into the mud, then flowed freely as I pulled the sword out. He bent at the waist and slumped face-forward in the sand, his legs still trapped in the quagmire around him.
Tahlis appeared out of the ground next to me. His blind eyes gazed into the distance as he sniffed the air, then ran a probing hand across the lord’s corpse.
“Not a dignified way for a would-be-lord to go,” he said. “But then, death is seldom dignified.”
Across the battleground, the last of the corrupted clan troops fell, his shoulder shattered by a punch from Lord Ganyir. We had beaten the army sent against us and taken out the pretender to the lordship.
But at what cost?
Exhausted as I was, I couldn’t rest yet. I had to check how the initiates were doing. By accepting a role in their training, I had become responsible for bringing them to this point. I needed to make sure that they were all right.
I walked back toward where the fighting had started. Choshi’s body lay where she had fallen. I rolled her over and brushed the dirt from her cheek. Freckles stood out against skin that had turned deathly pale. Her eyes stared vacantly into the distance.
I closed her eyes. “You deserved better than this. I’ll make sure that your sacrifice is remembered.”
None of the other initiates were nearby. Perhaps they hadn’t realized that she was missing yet. This was their first real battle, and it would be easy to get lost in the jubilation of victory. But though I didn’t want to deprive them of that joy, they needed to know the truth about their friend.
I walked back toward where the battle had started. The bodies were more frequent here, Hyng’ohr soldiers and Augmenters scattered across the ground. The city had taken one hell of a beating fighting on the side of the Unswerving Shadows. I only hoped that those who had died were committed to the cause, not ordinary soldiers sucked in by civic duty. Still, in matters of war, everyone who fought on the other side was an enemy.
Across the bloodstained ground, I spotted Drek and Onvar. With a heavy heart, I hurried over to them.
“I have bad—” I began, but the words died in my mouth when I saw the looks on their faces. They were mourning already, their expressions drawn down by grief. Following their gazes, I saw why.
Elorinelle sat in a pool of blood, her bow abandoned beside her. Her hair fell past her pointed ears and dangled across her face, but I didn’t need to see her eyes to know that she was crying. Her whole body shook with terrible sobs.
Fig lay on the ground, his head in Elorinelle’s lap. His chest was smashed in, bloody ribs protruding through his robes. One arm lay crushed and limp, while his other hand was tangled in Elorinelle’s hair.
“Gonna… miss… you…” he gasped, blood flecking his pale lips. Then, his eyes went dull and his hand flopped to the ground.
I knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. The power of sap had given me healing magic. If there was some life left in him, then perhaps I could keep him alive long enough for Kumi to find some water, to bring on the real healing, to save us all from greater grief.
But it was too late.
“Swordslinger!” Tahlis called out.
I ignored him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as important as respecting the fallen and seeing my students through this difficult time.
“Swordslinger.” Tahlis grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me to face him. “I need you now.”
“But Fig—”
“The living need you still.”
He dragged me to the shade beside one of the houses. Zedal sat slumped against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. One was bloody and twisted.
“You have healing magic, don’t you?” Tahlis said.
“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m out of Vigor.”
I drew a knife and cut away the clothing around the injured leg. Zedal gasped at every movement, but she didn’t scream or cry. As in all things, she was determined to master herself here.
What lay exposed was a terrible mess. Her bones had been fractured from the knee down by a series of mace strikes. Fragments of bone had shredded skin and muscle. Now, blood was streaming out. Tahlis had done his best to stop the bleeding with a tourniquet, but it wasn’t enough.
“Kumi!” I shouted. “Quickly!”
She ran over and knelt beside me, peering at the wound. After a moment’s scrutiny, she looked up.
“Deepest regrets,” she said to Zedal. “We don’t have enough water for me to heal this properly here and now. We can’t seal the wound while keeping your leg, but if we don’t seal it, then you might not make it back to help alive.”
Zedal closed her eyes. Her forked tongue flicked out to taste the air.
“Lose the leg,” she said. “It’s no good to me dead.”
Kumi took my knife. “I’ll do this as quickly and cleanly as I can. Then, I’ll use my water magic to safely seal the stump. Ethan, I need you to hold her still
