Suri stared aghast at everyone.
Malcolm stayed focused on Raithe. “She gave you all the food. She took from herself and Kaylin, and gave it all to you. She did it so you would live. Just as Arion sensed the importance in Suri, so, too, did your mother understand that one day you would be needed. She wasn’t a mystic or a Miralyith; she didn’t need to be. Elan spoke to her just as it did to Arion, but your mother understood it as intuition, as belief. She sacrificed herself and your sister so that one day you would be here—and that you would have the courage to make a similar choice. Her sacrifice wasn’t to save her remaining child, but to save everyone’s sons and daughters.”
Outside the smithy, the dead were pulled from the wreckage of the ruins of Alon Rhist. Inside that building, Raithe wept.
* * *
—
Trapped in the Shrine, without a window, Persephone lamented that she hadn’t seen the sun set. It would be her last, and she wanted to say goodbye to the sun. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly—all of it her fault. She should have had a better plan to ignite the signal fire. That was a stupid mistake. She should have kept more troops in the fortress. She should have ordered the Orinfar runes scribed over everything, not just the outer walls—she should have had it tattooed on every person. When looking back, all of the mistakes were easy to see and so tragic because the first day had seemed so promising. Everyone thought they’d won.
A report had just arrived that the fane’s Miralyith were creating bridges across the Grandford gorge.
“We’ll make the last stand up here,” Nyphron told the Galantians as they gathered around Persephone’s bed, along with Moya, Padera, and Brin.
“You can’t fight them,” Moya said.
“If they come in here, I can and will,” Tekchin replied.
“No, you can’t.” She was firm. “You can’t kill another Fhrey.”
“Yes, I can,” Tekchin growled. He pointed at her with his sword. “If they try to kill you…trust me, I can.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“She’s right,” Persephone said. “It’s not worth it. You’ve already sacrificed too much on our behalf. If we’re going to lose anyway, what’s the point of cursing your souls in the process? Maybe if you surrender, the fane will spare your lives.”
“She’s right,” Nyphron said. “The fane’s anger will focus on me. You can’t break Ferrol’s Law.”
“I’m not going to just stand here and watch them die,” Tekchin said.
“Then leave,” Moya told him. Her voice was cold. “All of you should just go. I’m sure you know a way out. Some back exit, some warren hole. Go on and leave us.”
“Moya!” Persephone scolded. “Don’t be so cruel.”
“She’s not,” Tekchin said. “She’s being brave. She’s being exactly what any of us would be. She’s being a Galantian.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Grygor grinned at her. “Proved herself in battle, too, against a giant monster, in a one-on-one with a chieftain, and in a melee.”
Eres nodded. “And she’s the best in the world with that bow of hers.”
They each looked at Moya critically. No one scoffed; no one laughed.
“A Rhune?” Nyphron asked them all with a smirk. “And a woman to boot.”
Tekchin nodded.
“Look at me,” Grygor said. “I’m no pretty Fhrey.”
“I’m not sure that’s an argument in her favor,” Nyphron told the giant, but Eres kept nodding.
“What makes you think I even want to be in your lousy club?” Moya asked, but her tone lacked the usual bite.
“You don’t understand,” Tekchin said. “Galantian isn’t a group or organization. It’s just a word. A Fhrey word.”
“Moya,” Persephone said. “Galantian means hero.”
“At its core, it means the best,” Nyphron said. “In Instarya tradition, he is Galantian who epitomizes the best of the tribe’s values: honor, martial skill, and bravery.” He looked at Vorath and Anwir who both nodded, as did Eres. “And so seven once more becomes eight.”
Moya looked from one to another, each smiling back at her. “As nice as all that is, and thanks for the vote of confidence, you really need to leave.”
“Running away isn’t very heroic, is it?” Eres said.
Anwir nodded. “We appear to be trapped by our own ideals.”
Moya sighed and pointed to the east. “Seven bridges, people. They’re making them right now. Climb what’s left of the Spyrok and look for yourself. And we don’t have walls anymore. Come dawn they’ll kill us all. And since you can’t help by sticking around, you ought to go.”
“I will if you will.” Tekchin grinned at her.
“You know I can’t.”
“You can,” Persephone told her. The pain in her stomach was still awful, but she had a little more movement than before. She could sit up and she was, but sitting in a bed did little to enhance her authority. “As the keenig, I’m the only one who has to stay. This is my mess, and I bear the responsibility for it. No one else does.”
“I do,” Moya said.