In the grey dawn, I stand behind our soldiers, watching for a break in the line. My muscles tremble as yet another wave of Kadranians crash onto the wall. One of our men stumbles, and an axe arcs toward his chest. Hurriedly, I cast, and the weapon deflects. The soldier scrambles up and shoves his blade into the savage's gut.

A wizard screams beside me. I whirl as he crumples, his hands fumbling to cover the blood gushing from his eye. The Kadranian climbing the ladder in front of us bears a matching wound. My stomach drops to my feet. He didn't end the cast on time. The wizard's scream sharpens my concentration as I telekinese my own dagger at the brute, making sure to let go before the blade meets his skin. I pull my wizard to his feet and push him toward the tower. He stumbles that way.

A soldier knocks into me, and I fall against the back wall. My head smacks the stone, and stars swim in my eyes. Past the stars, a horde of black throngs across the wide park and swarms up the stone. Arrows and rocks rain down on it, but they are raindrops in the river.

These people are endless.

A man's axe slashes toward my shoulder, and I throw myself aside. The blade sparks off the stone. Regaining my feet, I thrust my rapier forward. The tip barely pierces his armor. He growls and swipes at me again, knocking my sword to the ground. I scramble back, pulling powder from my pouch.

The brute freezes midstep, blood burbling from his lips, and falls.

Reyan stands behind him. "To the sides, Aster! We need more lighters."

My eyes sweep down the wall, and I notice for the first time how thin our forces have become. Medics drag what men they can reach inside, but corpses litter the middle stretch.

"Now!"

I scoop up my rapier. Shouts and swords ringing in the air, I duck through the fighting to reach a group of archers near the tower door. Soldiers protect them and the door from the invaders, but only one magician is here, lighting arrows. I crouch beside him and start casting.

Flames leave my fingertips as fast as the spell can pass my lips, and I light arrow after arrow. Blood trickles down my lip, but I keep casting. Everything shuts out but the magic and the motion. Light, pass, light again.

A hooked ladder connects with the wall in front of my eyes. The archers call out, trying to pick the men off as they come up. A second ladder hooks onto the wall, and I cast to push it off. It's like trying to push a mountain; the spell backlashes. As I wipe away the streaming blood, my archer nocks an arrow and pulls it back—

An axe slams through his neck. His body collapses onto me, throat gaping. A Kadranian heaves himself onto the wall. Pushing off the body of my ally, I et væ the savage's chest. He flies back, and I let go as he tumbles into his comrades down the ladder.

The tower wizards throw that ladder off, but savages still pour from the second one, and I shove to my feet. The archers trade their bows for daggers, and our small guard force mixes in among us. Bunched together, we stare death in the face, using our bodies to shield the tower. My mind scavenges for a shred of hope—we need reinforcements, a lucky blow, a slow in the tide. Some brutes fall at the edge of our group, but on the left side, one breaks through. He scythes his path toward the door, men falling in his wake. I block a different one's blow and glance over, stomach plummeting.

He broke through.

Pulling my rapier, I dive after him. The blade drives into his hide armor, and he howls, swinging toward me.

His arm slams into me, and I slip on stones slick with blood. The savage reaches for the door. "No!" An archer throws himself at the man, and they both tumble over the wall.

Another Kadranian looms over me and steps on my chest. The weight of his foot crushes the breath out of me. His sword slices down, but my casting knife tears across his heel. He howls, collapsing. Still more men press the wall.

We're going to lose this position.

"Reyan!" I scream.

Across the wall, he calls back. A Kadranian looks down at me. I raise my hand to cast.

He kicks me in the head, and blackness envelops me.

* * *

Someone moans, a dull, painful sound. It slides into my consciousness, whispering, Listen to this world of agony and death to which you've sold yourself. The noise is pure fear, and sleep holds more comfort. It claims me again.

Tiny daggers pierce my arm with every heartbeat, and each breath stabs my chest. My head throbs. Another soft moan fills the air, but this sound is mine. Beneath the clamor around me, I doubt it even moved past my own ears.

Someone screams, and the world slaps into focus. My eyes snap open, and I push off the ground. I have to fight; the Kadranians—

Head spinning, instead of rising, I tumble into the floor, out of a bed. Disoriented, I look around. Bunk beds edge the room, and a table fills the middle of it. Field medics shift between the supplies on the table and the men in the beds. A couple crowd around the man who must have cried out, and a different one hurries over to me.

"Hey, you're okay," he says, crouching beside me.

I blink at him.

"I know this must be confusing, but someone pulled you down from the wall."

"The battle's over?" My voice sounds awkward in my ears, and I remember the dried blood that must be clogged in my nose from all the casting. It bust in the first fight, too, but I can hardly feel it under everything else.

He nods. "It ended about three hours ago. Here, let's get you back in bed. It doesn't look like anyone's managed to get around to you yet. I'll get you in just a minute."

He reaches for my good arm to help pull me up, but I clamber to my feet. "No. I—" I look around. "I still have things to take care of." I look back to him. "Thank you, though."

He stands. "The battle's over, wizard. You can rest for a minute."

I ignore him, turning toward the door.

"Hey." He reaches for my good arm, but I pull it away, slipping among the bustling medics. They have bigger things to worry about than a man who can stand on his own two feet.

I walk out. As long as the Kadranians stand outside our gates, it doesn't matter if the battle is over. The castle is still in danger, and I still have duties to attend to.

I push through the people in the hall, gritting my teeth when someone bumps my bad arm, and up to the wall. I approach the officer on duty.

It takes her a second to recognize me. "My lord?"

"Has everything been quiet?"

She nods. "They haven't rushed again since they pulled back this morning."

"Good." The blood dried my shirt sleeve to my cut, and it tugs at the flesh. "Do you need anything here?"

"I don't think so, Prince."

I give a curt nod and look out over the Park. The Kadranian force hardly even looks dented, but corpses still litter the stretch from here to their encampment. Wind tossels my hair, breaks cool against my skin. The sun sits high above me, and our soldiers rest with their backs to the parapet.

"Can I help you with something, Prince?" She looks over me again, but I just shake my head.

No one is going to win this war. It's a battle of wills, of resources, of willingness to keep letting our men die until the other side gives up. I look across the raven-covered Park, over the tops of the buildings, past the sprawling poor's hovels, and beyond the final wall. The forests east of the city etch the horizon in green.

It's twisted that to save our people, we have to sacrifice them.

White flashes.

I stand on the wall, and around me, soldiers fight wild axemen. The Kadranian forces spread on the grounds beyond the castle wall, but now the sun slowly falls behind me.

Soldiers waving blue and silver spill out from behind the enemy. A cheer goes up on the wall as the new forces fall upon unsuspecting back lines.

White flashes.