AMARI’S SCREAMS REVERBERATE through the trees.
Inan and I freeze mid-attack. We whip our heads to see Amari struggling with a masked man several meters away.
Though she thrashes, a black glove closes over her mouth. Her eyes glaze before rolling back.
“Amari!” Inan takes off after her, and I move to follow. But the forest is empty. I can’t find Nailah.
I don’t see Tzain.
“Tzain?” I brace myself against a tree and survey the silhouetted trees filling the valley. A cloud of dirt plumes in the distance, a netted body, heavy and strong. A limp hand presses against the cords. No …
“Tzain!”
I sprint.
Faster than I knew I could run.
It’s like I’m six years old again, reaching after the chain, clawing after Mama.
I push the memories down as I go, screaming Tzain’s name into the night. This can’t happen. Not to me. Not to Tzain.
Not again.
“Tzain!”
My screams rip my throat raw, my feet quake as I pound against the dirt. I pass Inan in pursuit of Amari. I can save him—
“No!”
Tight cords wrap around my ankles, pulling me to the ground. The breath rushes from my chest as a net ensnares my body.
“Agh!” I scream again, twisting and kicking as I’m pulled through the forest. They’ve taken Tzain. They’ve taken Amari.
And now they’re going to take me.
Rocks and twigs tear at my skin, knocking my staff from my hand. I try to unearth Tzain’s dagger, but it too escapes my grasp. Dirt flies into my eyes, burning as I blink the debris away. It’s useless. I’ve lost—
The cord pulling my net snaps.
My body rolls to a halt as the two masked figures dragging me pitch forward with a start. In a flash, Inan lunges, striking while they’re still on the ground.
One masked man runs, seeming to disappear under the gaping tree roots. The other moves too slowly; Inan rams the hilt of his sword against the man’s temple and his knees buckle.
When the man crumples to the ground, Inan turns on me. He readjusts his grip on his sword.
A fire rages behind his eyes.
My fingers tremble as I rip at the cords with my bare hands, struggling to free myself. As Inan approaches, the seal of Orïsha catches the moonlight, carrying every pain endured under its leopanaire’s watch. The guards’ boots. The blood in the dirt. The black chain around Mama’s neck.
The way they kicked Tzain down.
The way they threw me to the ground.
Each new memory constricts everything inside me, crushing my ribs. My breath catches as Inan crouches down and pins my arms under his knees.
This is how it ends—
Inan’s blade flashes from above.
—exactly how it began.