༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

With arms tightly crossed over my chest and my head bowed, I follow the violet-eyed woman through the pines, boots crunching through snow. Teeth chattering and nose numb, I focus on her footsteps and little else

It's a mistake.

Something snaps and I jerk my head up as the girl gasps. Snow shoots into the air as a rope is pulled taut and then the girl crashes into the ground, crying out as she's flung into the air. She dangles by her ankle, swinging wildly. I reach for her but something whizzes past my head. My eyes follow the arrow as it sinks into a tree.

Violet eyes meet mine. "Run. They just want me."

I scoff at her, pull out the blade tucked into the waistband of my pants and prepare myself for a fight. I won't be taken again, nor will I leave this girl behind. Not like I did to Vera.

It will be your downfall.

Ignoring the rough voice of my brother in my ears, I peer into the dense shadows of the woods.

"Azura, go!"

Before I get the chance to respond to her demands, one of the attackers comes running from the forest with a furious scream spilling from their lips. They attack as they did before; wild and erratic. But unlike before, they're trying to kill me.

A stone hatchet swipes for my gut and I dive back before striking. The blade slips between their ribs and I twist, drawing a cry from them, wide eyes staring at me. I wrench the blade out and send a boot into their gut as the next person leaps for my back.

Arms wrap around my waist and then my feet are no longer under me. I slam into the ground, breath whooshing from my lungs and the weapon tumbles from my grip. The man rears up and his knuckles crack into my mouth. The sharp tang of blood bursts on my tongue before the pain registers. By then I have my teeth bared and my hands on either side of his head. With a yank, his neck snaps and he slumps.

I roll out from under the body just as the girl shouts, one of the tribes-people trying to drive a blade into her throat from where she still hangs upside down. I scramble for the blade that glints in the snow as the girl grapples with the knife. I send the blade into the air where it slices through the rope holding her hostage. With a grunt, she crashes to the ground. I race to her attacker before he can finish what he started, looping an arm around his neck to wrench him away from the girl.

Hands clawing for my face, the man struggles against me as I tighten my arm, cutting off his air. He doesn't struggle for long before letting out a gurgle, his windpipe crushed.

"Behind you!"

I drop the man and lurch to the side, barely avoiding the sword that sweeps past. I turn to face the attacker and am greeted by a large woman, blood streaked down her face, a curl to her lip, displaying blackened teeth. The one who burned me.

"You owe me blood," I tell her and raise my fists.

The large woman looks behind me to where the violet-eyed woman gets to her feet. "Both of fire," she growls and raises her sword.

I strike first, swinging my fist and jabbing my knuckles into her jaw. Her head merely tilts and a deep rumble sounds in her chest, like a bear frustrated with its prey. She retaliates with a wide swing of her sword that I stumble away from. She jabs and I step into the strike, wrapping an arm around hers to twist the blade from her grip. It falls to the snow as she sends a fist into my nose.

A cry tears from my lips and I stagger away, blood streaming from my nose in thick rivulets, dripping from my chin. A blow to the gut sends me crashing into a tree with the force of it and I land in a heap amongst the snow with loud gasps. Curling my arms around my stomach, I listen to the stomp of footfalls coming closer. Bile presses against the back of my throat with the agony, the burn that she gave me seeming to reignite.

A thick hand wraps around my throat and hoists me up. I bare bloody teeth at the woman, trying to choke down air. I bring my arms down on hers, trying to dislodge her hold. But the bones in my arm are still pathetically weak and my attempts only cause more pain to burn through my body.

I see stars, a whole sky of stars as the woman squeezes. Vision bleeding, her colours blur together, a painting dipped in water.

Then there's a scream and arms wrap around the woman's neck from behind. She grunts and staggers back, her hold loosening around my throat enough that I can pry her fingers away and drop to the ground.

The violet-eyed woman clings to the brute's back, her ankles locked around her waist. She brings her elbow down on her head again and again with repeated crunches. The large woman sways, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

I take her moment of distraction to leap to my feet and swing my fist at her face, throwing the weight of my body behind the punch. Something in my hand splinters but her jaw cracks and then she's falling. She thuds onto the ground and the girl rolls away from her, sucking in deep breaths of air.

I find the woman's sword in the snow and grip it in my left hand, my right hand already numb. I approach the brute with a curl to my lip, intending to finally end this. After what she did to Rashida's people, after what she did to me and those villagers, it's the least she deserves.

"Wait," the violet-eyed woman says and I meet her gaze, arguments rising on my lips. But she holds out her hand, gesturing to the sword. "Let me."

I tilt my head and hesitate.

"She's hunted me for years now. I should be the one to end it."

Passing her the blade, I watch her pause and take a breath. She grips the sword in two hands; hands that tremble.

"May the Mother guide you," she murmurs before the sword arcs through the air and she severs the woman's head from her shoulders, spraying blood across the snow. Then she tosses the blade to the ground and straightens her shoulders. "Let's go."

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

It becomes hard to see, hard to focus on anything but chattering teeth and trembling fingers. I study the mountains that surround us, looming high, jagged rocks piercing through the snow, trees blanketed in white stretching for the skies. It would be beautiful if my eyes weren't blurred from the cold.

"We're nearly there," the auburn-haired girl says a step ahead of me.

"We are?" I question, my breath fogging the air.

She glances over her shoulder at me. "I can take you only so far. The witches are a reclusive bunch."

I let out a sigh, fearing as much. Wherever the witches are hiding, it won't be easy to reach them.

Squinting through the flecks of snow that drift around us, I note the trees begin to thin and fall away to reveal a crudely put together wall of logs of various sizes. The gate is open, letting animals and people wander through.

The girl continues marching forward and we stroll into a ramshackle village. The bumpy and muddy roads have been cleared of snow, cutting paths through the huts of uneven slats of wood and layers of hay. We pass people bundled in thick clothing and furs, the smell of roasting meats and wood fires seeming to embrace the village in warmth.

Eyes follow our movements. Tasks are halted, focus shifting to our progress through the village. These people have made a home here, a home in the ice and the frost. It makes me wonder what world they came from that they can call this home.

"We've been slowly building," the girl says. "But there's still so much that needs doing."

I frown at her words, but I halt when I see what she means. Before us stretches a land of tents and flickering flames. People huddle and tremble in the cold, dreary and tired-eyed. My mouth goes dry.

"The last of the shape-shifters," she murmurs and I have to swallow as tears press against the back of my throat.

Ari's people. This is what Palmira has reduced them to. I should feel relief at seeing so many of his people have survived but all I feel is sorrow... and guilt.

"How long have you been here?" I manage around the emotions trying to choke me.

"Over a year now." She sounds exhausted as she says this and it tugs at my heart.

"Where were you before coming here?"

"We travelled a lot. Mostly sticking to the various islands in the Blood Ocean, getting passage on what ships we could, losing more people the longer we travelled."

"I'm sorry you had to endure that."

She shakes her head and meets my eye. "Don't apologise, it wasn't your fault."

That may be so, but I know who's at fault and it makes my gut churn to think about it. "And what of the witches? Are they here?"

She jerks her chin towards the snow-capped mountains that loom over us. "They're within Mount Krashira, tucked away." She shakes her head, frustration clear on her freckled features. "I think I've finally begun to accept that they're not going to help. They don't have an obligation to anyway."

"I don't agree with that."

"What?" She glances at me and I straighten my spine, looking over those tents and huddled people.

"What you and your people have endured and survived and what you continue to endure... You need help, and everyone has an obligation to help if they're able. Even the witches." I feel the truth in those words twist in my gut, that guilt rearing its head like a hungry animal.

I've stood by and watched bad things happen to good people far too often when I could have helped, and that's a weight I now have to carry. I should have helped, as should the witches. I don't have an excuse for letting the street rats die or leaving Vera behind to fend off the demons, and the witches don't have an excuse for turning their backs on these people.

"Is there a way I can reach them?"

"There is. But it's not an easy journey."

I let out a breath and nod, intending to ask her more, but someone interrupts us.

"I thought you were dead."

Both of us turn at the gruff voice and I glance at the man that approaches, tall and muscled with a stern set to his bronzed features. His blue eyes flick to me and he stills, something passing across his face that I can't identify. His eyes narrow and his brows pinch. I stiffen under his scrutiny, wondering if he recognises me as the assassin of the emperor and realising that though I was close with Ari, I have no allies here. Not yet.

"Sorry to disappoint," the girl beside me says, cutting through the tension that fizzles between us. It fades as quickly as it had come and I cross my arms over my chest.

The man shakes his head, thick chestnut hair falling over his shoulders that he tucks behind his ears. "Your people were worried."

She rolls her eyes. "Azura, this is Raffy. He likes to think of himself as my guardian. Raffy, this is Azura, one of the survivors from the cult I accidentally inspired."

Raffy dips his chin. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you're needed, Rosabel."

The name hits me in the gut and the pieces slot together all too quickly. My face twists and I take a step back like his words really were a blow.

"Azura?" the girl questions, tilting her head, the breeze snagging at tendrils of her bright auburn hair.

"Yes," I manage to wheeze. "I'll... leave you to your business." With that, I spin on my heel and make my escape.

I slip between the ramshackle homes of wood, dodging people as I try to draw in breaths.

Rosabel.

His voice whispers in my ear, becoming firmer, no longer sounding like he speaks to me from another room within my head.

Her name was Rosabel and she was the scariest girl I knew growing up.

I find a secluded spot behind a building and slump against it. I dump my bag at my feet, my heart lodged in my throat as I dig through it until I find the folded paper within. I pull out the drawing that Ari tucked into my bag without me knowing, and press the back of my hand to my mouth.

Rosabel stares back at me with those fierce eyes and waves of loose hair, far younger but the curve of her full lower lip and pointed nose is unmistakable.

The woman I met is the princess of the shape-shifters, and the girl Ari was destined to marry.

Did he know she was still alive? Is that why he put this drawing in my pack?

I rub my temple with gloved fingers, an ache beginning to throb behind my eyes.

Does she know Ari is dead?

I see his blood on the marble, glistening under the candlelight, forever reminding me of the choice that I made. It's a choice that I'm one day going to have to tell Rosabel about. I let Ari die because I didn't want to be used as a weapon. I let Ari die because I was too weak to do anything more than scream.

I get to my feet, the emotions that swirl within me begging me to move, to do something.

I drag my gaze towards those jagged mountains, climbing into the clouds, stark white with snow.

Taking a breath, I still the chaos within me and focus on those mountains. I have a goal. I need to find the witch that took me to Yetok when I was a baby. I need to find her, everything else is unimportant.

I've done my part for Rashida, for the rebellion, I need not concern myself with such struggles anymore. Let him send another envoy when he realises the others have perished. I can't keep getting swept into other people's battles. Not the rebellion's and not the shape-shifter's. Even if my heart tells me I need to help these people.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Princess Rosabel has more weight on her shoulders than any young woman should have to bear. She can't be much older than me, yet as I walk through the camp of shape-shifters towards her, all their gazes follow the flow of her red hair like she's their only hope.

It can't be an easy burden to carry, but she holds it with her head held high and a gentle smile upon her lips.

She turns to me as I approach, her violet eyes raking over me with a tilt of her head.

"You look better," she observes, meeting my eye. I glance down at myself, having procured new layers of clothing that actually fit with the dark brown colour being more to my tastes. The bruising around my eyes has healed, though there's still a lump on my nose from where it was broken.

"As do you," I reply. Her cheeks are flush with colour, lips pink, eyes clear. She's all vibrant hues and radiance, such a contrast to my brand of darkness.

"I suppose you're here to ask about the witches."

I nod and she sighs, sinking her hands into the pockets of her moss green coat, chestnut fur brushing against her neck from the collar.

"There's a passage through the mountains that will take you to them. It's dangerous and not easy to find."

"Just point me in the right direction."

Rosabel shakes her head and glances around us, her people milling past. "Raffy won't like it, but I'll take you to them."

I frown at her. "If it's dangerous, then I'm not asking you to do that."

"I'm offering," she argues, meeting my eye.

"And I'm declining your offer."

Something sparks in the violet of her eyes, a familiar fierceness that I've seen in Ari's drawing. My breath hitches to see it, to see that strength and to know that the things that have happened haven't stolen it from her.

Perhaps it gives me hope for my own pieces that continue to disappear with every battle fought. Maybe they're not so lost after all.

"Telling me not to do something just makes me want to do it more," she says with narrowed eyes.

The corner of my lip lifts and without even realising, I grin at her. "Forbidden fruit is the tastiest."

"Then it's agreed. I'll escort you to the witches."

My lips part and I raise my brow. "I don't believe that's how negotiations work."

She shrugs. "I find I don't much care. I'll gather the supplies and come and get you when I'm ready." And with that, she turns away from me, crimson hair tumbling down her back like a flame, catching in the wind to swirl and dance. She's all spitting sparks and hot coals and I find myself drawn to her like a moth.

I tilt my head, wondering if it's her I'm drawn to, or some sort of connection to Ari. That's certainly not a thought I want to explore too deeply.