Page 209 of War

I stare at him, my own attack coming to a grinding halt, and I know he’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me, and he won’t think twice about it. He’s done this a hundred times before. What’s another death? It’s as easy as breathing to him.

Hussain’s gaze has grown a bit excited, as though he relishes this moment where his opponent is caught on the brink between life and death.

“Did you truly think you could become the horseman’s wife and things could end well for you?” he says almost pityingly. “He is a monster. We all are. We don’t have happy endings.”

Hussain swings his sword, intending to slice my torso open, and the only advantage I have at this point is that his weapon is heavy and a bit slow.

I duck under the hit, feeling the air stir above me. Instinct is shouting at me to run, but the only chance I have of stopping him is to do the opposite. So when I rise, I step forward, swinging the battle axe underhanded as I do so.

My wounded arms scream against the weight of the weapon, and I have to grit my teeth against the pain.

The axe catches Hussain in the gut, lodging itself deep in his flesh. For a second I can only stare at the hit dumbly, shocked I actually landed a blow.

A split second later he backhands me, knocking me to the ground. I roll before I get a chance to recover, and an instant later, Hussain’s sword strikes the floor where I was an instant ago.

I scramble on all fours, crawling away from him, War’s dagger clutched in my hand. My cheek feels like it’s on fire.

I can hear Hussain’s heavy breathing. “I’m not dying today, Miriam,” he huffs out, grabbing my ankle and dragging me back to him.

I’m not either.

I flip onto my back just as he lifts his sword over his head, and I kick a booted foot at the axe handle protruding from his belly.

Hussain lets loose a sound that is half angry half agonized, a sound I’ve heard so many times on the battlefield as men and women died. His sword slips from his hand, and I have to roll out of its way as it clatters to the ground.

The rider’s hold on me loosens, and I manage to tug my ankle from his grip. I pull myself to my feet, my gaze moving over Hussain.

A curtain of blood cascades from his wound. It’s a fatal blow, I can tell that right away.

I think he knows it too. He gives a little laugh, even as he braces an arm against a wall. “Can’t believe—you got me,” he gasps out.

Neither can I.

“He’s not coming back to life, you know,” he says. “We’ve made sure of it.”

“I don’t believe that,” I say. Ican’t.

I stand there for a moment, dagger in hand. I could kill Hussain right now. I’m not sure if that would be the more merciful thing to do.

I remember War’s words from last night.

Every man, woman, and child on earth is just as capable of redemption as I am … who am I to cut them down before their true day of judgment?

At the memory, I holster my weapon.

The rider’s knees buckle then, and he slides down the wall.

I begin to walk away from Hussain, but then I pause, glancing over my shoulder at him one last time.

“War really was going to let you live, you know. He told me all men deserved a chance at redemption.”

Hussain doesn’t react to that.

“I don’t know how any of us are supposed to redeem ourselves,” I admit, “but you still have a little time left. For the sake of our friendship,try.”

I grab mybow and quiver and exit the building.

Outside, one of the two remaining phobos riders has attempted to ride away, but he must’ve slipped off his horse because I see him laying off to the side of the road, inert amongst all the other corpses that litter the ground.

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