Page 111 of War Hour

“But—”

“Take it out!” Bash groans loudly in pain. Then again, softer. “Take it out. Take it out. Take it out.”

Reaching up, I grab the hilt of the sword. When the blade jostles in my trembling hands, Bash groans, and I wince, sending him an apologetic look. Breathing in deeply through my nose, I pull the sword from his wing.

I toss the crimson stained blade to the side, and it clatters across the stone floor. Blood flows from the gaping wound in his wing, and I look for something to press to the wound.

“Here. Use this.”

Evander stands behind me, holding out his jacket for me to take. His eyebrows are knitted together when he kneels next to Bash.

Bundling it up in my hands, I press the fabric into the wound, causing Bash to hiss out expletives in his pain.

It’s only then that I realize the sound of the battle has stopped. There are no shouts, nor clanging of swords. The group gathers around us, sweaty and breathing ragged, but none of them harmed.

“He needs to be taken back to the healers, Lysta,” Evander says in a low voice. “We should go. Before anymore guards show up.”

I want to protest but bite my tongue instead. None of the Heirs have seen the Valor’s Trial yet, nor any of the city. We haven’t completed what we came here to accomplish. But how could I tell Bash, the man who saved my life, that our mission is more important than his life?

Staring at Bash, his face has paled significantly, a gaunt expression covering his face. Whether from the battle or from blood loss, I’m not sure.

I nod, acquiescing to Evander’s suggestion. “Sar, can you take us back—”

“Hold up,” Visha interrupts. “We haven’t finished what we were meant to do here.” She looks around at us all before crossing her arms across her chest. “We aren’t leaving until we are done.”

“But Bash—”

Sar steps forward to interrupt me. “What if I bring Bash back first? Then you can finish what you need to here, and I’ll come back for you.”

I look to Evander, hoping he’ll say we should do it. His face is tight, his lips turned down at the corners. When he doesn’t speak up, I decide. “Do it. Come back as soon as you get him to a healer. We’ll meet you in the throne room—now go!”

Chapter 44

When the Heirs stare at the rubble of the Court of Valor’s Trial with abject horror, I expect to feel vindicated. After having been called a liar, a traitor, and a lord’s whore—shouldn’t it feeljustto be proven right all along?

But as the gobsmacked Heirs fumble in disbelief at the broken Trial, all I can think about is Drytas’s absence and its implications.

“Have—have you ever seen anything like it?” Jona asks with a shakiness to his voice. “I mean, I know they said it couldn’t be Trialed, but it’s truly broken.”

Neith scuffs his feet in the shattered glass, kicking larger shards across the floor. Cursing under his breath, he squats to examine the carved fragments. Picking up a piece, he holds it up to one of the lit torches on the walls, letting the light shine through it. “The Crowns will freak when they realize what is possible. Thatthisis possible.”

“Where would Drytas have gone?” I mumble the question to myself, rubbing my forehead in frustration.

Neith shoots me an annoyed look. “You’re gonna have to speak up a bit, Valor.”

Raising my head to look at the group staring at me, I ask again with more sureness in my voice. “Where would Drytas have gone?” I pause, but no one answers. “We just left the capital, and he wasn’t there. The guard let slip that he’s not here in Falland. The only other place he would go—”

The Heirs exchange a look.

“There’s a reason we weren’t discovered by guards prior to reaching the Trial,” I say with a growing sense of alarm. “They aren’there.”

I don’t want to say the words. Because as much as I wanted everyone to believe me that Lord Drytas planned to attack the other courts, I can’t fathom it happening. If he is moving forward with his plan, that means time is up. The Untrialed are already at risk, along with every other court.

It means that I’m too late.

Visha finally says the words that hang over us. “He’s going to attack the courts.”

The only other things that the Heirs were meant to see were the Untrialed. I had planned to sneak them into the streets, hoping they would glimpse the oppression and mistreatment they face every day under Drytas’s rule. But Drytas had been two steps ahead.

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