A/N: A fair warning, POV is going to be switching around pretty rapidly in this chapter. Get ready to see these little guys ❂ because there's going to be a lot of them. This chapter is the longest yet and took up 51 whole pages in my drafts, so buckle up and get ready. With that, I release you into the chapter!

The morning of the big day didn't feel real. It didn't feel special. It felt like any other day. The sun rose, and so did the people. The flooded the streets as they woke, some still yawning, others having been awake for hours. It could have passed for a normal day. Only, it couldn't have, because Kimera knew. She knew the sun rose on a dread arena, and that the people woke to watch a murder. She knew that today, blood would be spilled.

The healer's tower was empty of everyone but Kimera, Lylie, and a guard in the corner. Lylie woke slower than Kimera, still drowsy from the sleeping draught Kimera had given her. She'd noticed Lylie slept restlessly, and had wanted to ease that for her. She'd spent the night in the tower with the dancer, not wanting to leave her alone. She told herself it was because she didn't entirely trust Lylie on her own with free range in the castle, but part of her also seemed to want to be around Lylie just a little bit longer if she could.

"Is it morning?" Lylie asked groggily, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

Kimera nodded. "It is indeed. Unfortunately."

"Oh, right." Lylie sat up in the bed. "The arena fight is today."

Kimera rubbed her own face from the bed next to Lylie. "Yeah. You know, I've known this day was coming for years, I've counted the seconds until it came. I thought I would be ready. But I still don't feel ready at all."

Lylie got up and put a hand on Kimera's shoulder, surprising the seer. She didn't think of Lylie as a sympathetic person, yet her eyes were filled with an emotion that might have resembled compassion. "There's probably nothing I could say to you right now that will make you feel better, unless you want me to lie to you. I can do that. I'm quite a good liar. But I get the feeling that you don't want to hear lies right now."

Kimera laughed joylessly. "No. But thank you for the offer."

Kimera got up as well to inspect Lylie's ankle. She made her stretch, walk on her toes and her heels, and do a few spins. Her body autonomy was entirely back to normal.

"Well," Kimera sighed, "You're all better. I mean it this time. As if nothing had ever happened."

"What a relief." Lylie let her head fall backwards, a smile on her face. "I really can't thank you enough, Kimera. You're a miracle worker."

"If I was a miracle worker I think a lot would be better around here," Kimera said quietly. "So, um, you're free to go. I'm discharging you."

Lylie tilted her head. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Kimera crossed her arms. "I thought you wanted to go home. See your sister, and all."

Lylie looked down for a minute, thinking. "Isa will be fine if I leave her with Emlin for a few more hours. They get on pretty well. Besides, I would have thought you'd want me to come with you."

"With me?" Kimera made a confused face. "I think all the reading has scrambled your brain. I don't understand what you're saying."

"The arena fight is today, and however much I may... disagree with the prince and princess-" Lylie took a deep breath, as if she was trying very hard to put that modestly, "-I know they are your friends, and today is going to be hard for you. Would you feel better if I went with you? As someone who wasn't assigned to watch over you. As someone who is there because I want to be."

Kimera met her eyes, and there was no lie in them that she could see. She knew Lylie was a practiced liar, though. She knew she probably had ulterior motives for wanting to come with.

But she couldn't find it in herself to care. She wanted Lylie to come, and she wanted Lylie to be there when whatever happened happened.

She grabbed Lylie's hand. "Thank you."

❂

Lylie's inner monologue was partly 'Wow, this is a really nice thing for you to do', but it was mostly 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING'.

Lylie wasn't supposed to be a nice person! Being nice got you killed! The only way anyone survived in this kingdom was by looking out for themselves. So why was Lylie delaying her release from the palace? Why wasn't she taking Isa with her right now, and running far, far away?

Kimera. That was why. Lylie owed the seer her life and more. Kimera was kind, understanding, and sweet. She was unlike any other nobles Lylie knew. She was someone that Lylie actually liked to be around. And that day had the potential to be the worst day of her life. Lylie owed her this; the least she could do was be there to support Kimera and help get her through a hard time.

She and Kimera walked down the stairs of the tower, the guard trailing behind them. Lylie would never get used to that, no matter how much time she spent with Kimera; it was creepy, and since Lylie was always so aware of other people in a room, he threw her off.

When they reached the foot of the stairs, a familiar face was waiting for them. Ecthelion wore very little armor that day. She wasn't used to seeing him so non-threatening. Dare she say it, he looked nervous. It was an expression she'd never seen him wear.

"I'm assigned to you today, Mera," he said solemnly. "I see you've got a shadow." He jerked his chin at Lylie.

"Ever consider that you're the shadow?" Lylie fired back. "Maybe I'm actually the one she wants around. You're here because neither of you have a choice."

"Please don't do this today, guys," Kimera pleaded. "I know you're not exactly the best of friends to each other, but you're both my friends, and I'd really appreciate it if we could just... stand together today? I don't think anyone is going to have a good time and we need each other right now."

Both Lylie and Ecthelion's faces softened at her frightened tone. They looked at each other and a silent agreement was passed between them.

They might not like each other. They might despise each other, even. But on that day, they met as neither enemies nor adversaries, but as friends, with the shared purpose of protecting and being there for Kimera.

❂

Raven's legs were tired. He'd been kicking the door to his cell all night, hoping he would loosen the hinges or bend the bars enough to slip free. Unfortunately, for all their rust, they were structurally sound.

He'd been locked in the very tunnel system he used to work in. The arena tunnels were littered with cells like this one which criminals were held in before their trials. Raven would have no trial. He would have something worse.

His cell was special in that it was one of the few with small, barred windows so he could see into the arena. He was right underneath the stands and his window was built into the wall of the circular, sandy area. It was agonizing; he could see the sun, and he could see the people, but he was as trapped as he'd ever been.

He'd tried everything he could think of. He tried kicking the door down, squeezing through the bars, climbing out the window. If there hadn't been bars on the window he would have fit, but alas, there were. It was a useless effort.

He watched now, through his little window, as the stands filled with anyone who wanted to watch. Most wore the expensive, colorful clothing of nobles and gentry, but a few wore the rags of commoners who had come to witness history.

He'd been fighting tears all night. He'd been fighting screams all morning. He knew however loud he shouted, no one was coming for him. To them he was a common criminal, a murderer, even. They hadn't come to see him. They hadn't come to listen to him. They had come to watch Rosalind die.

It wasn't that Raven believed she would die easily. It wasn't as if he had lost any faith in her or Jasper. But he had learned his lesson, not to underestimate the king. He wouldn't be held back by laws, traditions, or even prophecies. He wanted Rosalind dead, and he'd find a way. If he was already blackmailing Jasper, he was sure to have a contingency plan.

He returned to kicking the cell door, the metal clanging against his boot like the ringing of a bell. It didn't matter how much his legs hurt or how thirsty he was. He was going to get out of there, he was going to save Rosalind, and he was going to make the king pay. He had to.

❂

Zar did not intend to get out of bed that day. The room was sunny, the pillows were soft, the wool blankets were breathable and he was cool and warm at the same time. He was really quite comfortable. I'm not getting up today, he decided. I'll sleep until tomorrow. Everyone tells me I need to get more sleep. Why not today?

His plans were doomed to complication the minute Aslan came through the door.

"Zar," Aslan said quietly, seeing that the conjuror was still in bed. "Are you awake?"

"Thanks to you," he replied, rolling over to face the servant. "What is it?"

"I think we should probably head to the arena fight. It's going to start soon."

Zar blinked sleepily. "I'm not going."

"What?" Aslan came closer and sat at the foot of Zar's bed. "Why not?"

"What's the point?" Zar did the best shrug he could manage while he was lying on his side. "It won't go well no matter what happens. I'd really just like to sleep right now and wake up after whatever catastrophe occurs." He closed his eyes and made a point of snuggling further under the covers. "You would do well to do the same."

"Jasper and Rosalind are my friends," Aslan said firmly. "I have to be there. I need to watch this."

"Well, I don't," Zar said.

Aslan was silent for another moment. Zar suddenly worried that he'd been too callous. He'd had this fear for a while now; that he would someday be too rude and scare Aslan away. Why the servant tolerated him at all astounded Balthazar. He was a horrible person, and Aslan was a great one. He didn't deserve Aslan in his life, just as he hadn't deserved his sister. But it was the same with both of them. He was selfish and he wanted to keep them in his life. He had lost Maeve, but he didn't want to lose Aslan too.

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting up. "I just meant that I have no reason to go."

"I just..." Aslan averted his eyes, looking at the floor instead. "I don't want to go alone."

The broken quality to his voice tugged at heartstrings Zar didn't know he still had. Aslan sounded hopeless. He sounded like he'd already given up.

"Then you won't," he promised. "I'll go with you."

❂

Jasper was trembling, as much as he tried to hide it. He'd gotten no sleep for the past two days, he'd felt nothing but stress, shame, and fear, and he had lost any semblance of whatever plan he'd had left.

He stood before the doors to the arena, by the two chambers the tigers were usually put in. Rosalind was by his side. She did not shake as he did. Her knees weren't knocking together, her breathing was steady. But her eyes were afraid.

"Rosalind?" Jasper was the first to speak. "Are you okay?"

She huffed a quiet chuckle. "What a question to ask right now," she breathed. "No, I'm not okay. Neither of us are okay. None of this is okay."

He reached for her hand. Usually holding hands was a sign of weakness, but here in the privacy of the halls of certain death, it was a show of strength. "I know, Rosalind, I know. It's not fair."

"I just- I thought I would have more time," she said. "I thought I would be ready by now. I thought I could think of something before this day came, before all of this happened. I thought I would think of a way to save us."

"Rosalind," Jasper said, pulling her shoulder to make her face him. "You are Rosalind. You are my sister and I love you. You are Rosalind and you always have a plan, whether you realize it or not. You are Rosalind, and you are strong. You are going to survive today. I promise."

Rosalind looked at him with shining eyes. He had hoped his small speech might give her hope, but her face was empty of it. She shook her head and pursed her lips, because for once, his sister didn't know what to do next.

He pulled her into a hug. He hugged her tightly, because if this was the last hug he was going to give her, he would make it count. "I love you no matter what happens. I love you, Rosalind."

"I love you too, Jasper," she said, her voice breaking as she reached the end of her sentence. She drew in a sharp breath as one who was barely holding back tears and wrapped her own arms around him. "No matter what happens."

❂

Alkemena's eyes were red and swollen, and her rubbing them probably didn't help. Her vision was blurry, but she couldn't tell if it was because of how tired she was or because of excess tears.

After Jay- no, Jasper, had told her what he did, she'd run. She'd run and run because she just had to leave. She didn't care where she was running to, as long as it was away from him. She didn't know how she felt; betrayed, surely, but there was something else she couldn't place. A feeling like a nail in her chest, small and sharp pain that demanded to be felt. This felt so different to how she'd felt days previously; she'd thought she'd finally found the right guy for her, but no- he was a liar, too.

The more she thought about it, though, of course he had lied. What was he going to tell her? That he was the prince? How would she have reacted? Probably exactly as she had. She understood where he was coming from. But that didn't mean she felt any less deceived.

She had nowhere to go. She had no home, no family, no friends she could easily find. She'd cried on rooftops, always moving, never willing to let herself rest. Really, all she'd wanted was Jay's arms around her and his shoulder to cry into, but the realization had come quickly that she would never have that again, because Jay was never real.

Why didn't that change the way she felt about him, though? She was still in love. She still loved him. How could she love a lie? She didn't know.

So here she was, running over tiled roofs and trellises. She wiped another tear from her cheek and looked ahead.

Her eye was caught by a commotion in the street. People were stampeding through the streets, shoving each other as they went. What were they headed towards? She might think it was the arena fight, but they were headed away from the palace.

She followed them, travelling much faster over their heads. She reached a clearing, and saw someone standing on an elevated dias, speaking to the gathering that was quickly overcrowding the square.

She recognized the person speaking, even through the red mask. She had grown used to the bright eyes of Ariel Seghal. Only, his eyes weren't bright anymore. There was a dark quality to them now, like a dimmed lantern. They were angry, and red rimmed, similar to hers. He'd been crying, too. But there was no sadness in his eyes. Any depression he felt was overshadowed by a rage like Alkemena had never seen. This anger was a tidal wave that threatened to crush the shore.

"You are the people of Ailica!" Ariel shouted. "You shouldn't be told what to do! You can make decisions for yourselves! The fact is that we outnumber them, and if we rise up together we can take back our kingdom!"

"Jax!" Alkemena shoutes, sure to use his fake name. She hopped down from the roof using window sills as footholds. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious, Shadowseeker?" Ariel turned away from the crowd to face her. "I've finally had enough. And so have they. It's about time we stood up for ourselves."

"Where is Abrax?"

She could see his face scrunch up in pain as if she'd stabbed him.

"Abrax is dead."

If Alkemena hadn't already been so lightheaded from crying, she was sure this would have made her dizzy. "What?"

"The heist," Ariel explained. "It went sideways. He sacrificed himself so I could get away, and the king killed him for it."

"The last arena trial-"

"That was him."

Alkemena never went to arena trials. Maybe that was why she'd never seen Jasper as the prince before. But now she wished she had. She wished she had been there to help Abrax, or at least been there for him. He had been so young. It was hard to believe he was dead, even if she'd only heard it seconds ago. She'd thought of him and Ariel as constants.

Oh desert sands, Ariel. No wonder he looked so banged up. He'd probably been throwing himself against the walls for this. Abrax was like his other half; what was he doing without him?

"Jax, I'm so sorry-"

"I don't want apologies," Ariel snapped. "I want revenge."

❂

Ecthelion wove his way through the crowd, trying to find a seat among the gentry in the arena. It was designed to fit as many people as possible rather than offer comfort for those sitting, so it was really as though the arena was a circle of large stairs with a hole in the middle filled with sand.

Kimera and Lylie trailed behind him, doing their best to keep up as they pushed past the other nobles finding their seats. The arena was already almost full. People had come to witness the rite of passage of their next monarch, and Ecthelion was sure bets had been placed between some of them. It was a sick game, really. He doubted that any of the nobles who didn't know Jasper and Rosalind personally knew how much this day was really going to mean for the kingdom of Ailica.

As he and the girls found a free space, Ecthelion fought to keep the nervous feeling in his stomach in the background. He'd known this day was coming, and he'd prepared both himself and the twins for it, but that didn't seem to make a difference. He trained both Rosalind and Jasper. He knew where their strengths and weaknesses lay, he knew what each of them were like in combat and in their hearts. And yet, he had no idea what the outcome of this fight would be. Too many things had gone wrong somewhere along the way. Threats, blackmail, and other manners of crime had all been thrown in the mix, and that made everything unpredictable. So many things had changed in the past few days, and history would never be the same because of it.

The king held up his hands to silence the chatter in the arena stands. All eyes turned to him, whispers quieted, and the kingdom listened.

"My people," the king said dramatically, "You've come here today to witness history. This ageless tradition of the arena battle between siblings is a monument to this kingdom's strength and endurance. I killed my brother to earn the right to stand before you today, and my children will now fight for that same right."

Ecthelion scowled. He'd always wanted to be a part of the king's army because he'd always wanted to be a fighter. He'd believed in the law and in right and wrong. But the reality of the world was very different to what he had thought. The king was a testament to that. Ecthelion had been carrying out corrupt orders since that man had come to power, and ignorance wasn't an excuse. He should have been better. He should have realized something was wrong the minute the well patrols were put into order.

But what difference would it have made? He thought back to his family, to his siblings. However many people fought against the king, there would always be those willing to support him, whether it was out of fear or not. And those people would always be a threat to Ecthelion's family, because if the king gave the order, they would kill Ecthelion's siblings without question. And that fact made Ecthelion another mindless drone to the king, someone who followed orders because he had no choice. He wondered how many families had been threatened in the time of the king's rule.

"And now, on this momentous occasion which I'm sure you've all been waiting for for a very long time," the king continued, "I present to you, the heirs to my kingdom, my beloved children, the royal twins, Rosalind and Jasper Vastatio!"

The doors to the arena began to rise, but instead of tigers emerging, Rosalind and Jasper seemed to materialize from the shadows, swords in hand. They looked like polar opposites. Rosalind held her thin, long fencing sword and walked with a limp, yet held herself confidently as had become her habit when she was presented to the public. Jasper gripped a broadsword, and though he walked normally he also walked hesitantly, and held his weapon uncomfortably. Though their body language screamed different messages, their faces were the same: Terrified.

No one cheered. No one clapped or shouted or made any noise at all. The only sound was the twins' boots crunching in the sand. It was as if everyone in the arena was collectively holding their breath. Ecthelion knew he was.

"My children," the king said, breaking the silence, "Your whole lives have led up to this moment. Are you ready? Ready to show the world what you're made of?"

They did not reply to him. They looked up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. They both looked so tired, so defeated. It was clear that neither of them had the energy nor the motivation to fight each other.

Ecthelion heard a rustle of fabric as Kimera, who sat delicately next to him, gripped Lylie's hand. Though he would never admit it, Ecthelion wished he had a hand to hold right then. He was scared, too.

But he had signed up to be alone the minute he'd enlisted as a puppet to the king.

❂

Rosalind would not shake. She would not tremble. She was Rosalind and she was strong, and despite all the eyes on her, every one of them waiting to watch her die, she would not show them she was afraid.

She could not count the amount of times she had looked down at this arena. She had been sitting in the box right next to her father, with the best view of the arena in the kingdom. She had watched many, many deaths. She thought she'd known what it would be like.

But looking up from inside the bowl of sand was very different. The arena was so much bigger from down here, and she was so small. There were so many eyes, so many judgemental stares, so many eager smiles and disapproving frowns. They weren't looking at her face, though. They were looking at her sword. They were waiting for her to make a move against Jasper.

That's right. She was facing down her brother right now. She was supposed to kill him, or he was supposed to kill her. As the doors dropped shut behind them, they met each other's eyes. Jasper looked afraid, as he often did, but this was a different fear. This was confusion, this was hopelessness, this was the face of someone who had no ideas and no plan. Rosalind imagined she had the same expression.

Would she have to kill her brother right here? Or would he kill her?

Was Rosalind the lady she knew herself to be? Or was Rosalind the tiger she had always feared?

❂

"Revenge?" Alkemena took a step back. The look in Ariel's eyes was starting to scare her. "What does that mean?"

"It means the king has gotten away with too much. It's time he paid for it, for everything. So we're going to kill him."

"You- You're talking about a coup?"

Ariel put a hand on Alkemena's shoulder. "There's enough of us that we can get past the guards and into the castle. It's the day of the arena fight, meaning everyone is off their guard. There's never been a better time, Shadowseeker."

"And what if you fail?"

"We won't. Look how many of us there are." He looked at her pointedly. "We have room for one more, of course."

"You want me to come?"

"You don't?"

Alkemena thought about it, but she didn't have to think for long. She wanted the king dead, perhaps more than anything. If she could help with that, she would.

"What have you got so far?" she asked.

Ariel smiled. "I've been thinking about it since Abrax died, and I think I have the perfect plan to kill both the king and the twins in one fell swoop-"

"Wait, what?" Alkemena held up her hands to interrupt him. "You want to kill the prince too?"

Ariel nodded. "King, prince, princess, they're all guilty of the same crimes. And they're all going to suffer for it."

"But the twins haven't done anything," Alkemena protested for some reason. Why was she defending Jasper? She was supposed to stop caring about him. She'd told him she never wanted to see him again. Hadn't she meant it? Wouldn't things be better if he was dead?

"That's just it," Ariel explained. "They haven't done anything. They sit up in the castle just like all the nobles while the people are bled dry of everything we need to survive. How is that fair? They're as bad as their father and they're going to die just like him."

Alkemena shrugged his hand off her shoulder. It was a tempting offer; to make the king and all the nobles pay. But Ariel's accusations were wrong. Jasper hadn't done nothing. He'd been coming down to the village to heal sick people since the drought had started.

That didn't mean she forgave him for lying, no way. But was she ready to watch Jasper die? Was she ready to be responsible? She had seconds to make a decision about how she felt towards him.

Ariel must have seen the hesitation in her eyes, because he said gently, "Alkemena, you don't have to join if you don't want to." His eyes were genuine and caring, but only for a moment before the furiosity was back. He jumped off the dias. The crowd parted for him as if he were on fire. He might as well have been. "But if that's the case, then you better stay out of our way."

Alkemena stood there while Ariel led his angry mob towards the castle. They followed, shouting, screaming, pushing each other over. They kept coming, out of houses and back alleys. It was as if all of Ailica was behind Ariel.

Alkemena watched them go, trying to make herself move. But what was she moving towards? Was she moving to join them? To stop them?

What did she want?

She would never feel towards Jasper the way she once had. He was changed in her mind, permanently. She'd never look at him the same, never feel the same happy flutter in her heart when she saw him in the street. But the threat of his death had sobered Alkemena's mind, and she came to a sudden realization:

She didn't want Jasper to die.

❂

Kimera looked down at the people she had grown up with.

She and Rosalind had played dice together. Rosalind had taught her how to read and write. She couldn't count the nights they'd spent together pretending to go to sleep and staying up late, telling stories they made up to try and scare the other one. Rosalind had always been better at scaring Kimera than vice versa. But she always made up for it by making a big show of protecting Kimera from the monsters under the bed. Kimera had always thought Rosalind wasn't afraid of anything.

She and Jasper had learned to be healers together. They had worked tirelessly to prove that they were skilled enough to join the medics in the tower. Jasper had found books for them to learn from, and Kimera had helped him learn to steady his hands, which used to shake at the sight of an open wound. They didn't have to talk to understand each other. They bonded over their love of saving lives.

And now there they were. Circling each other like animals, swords at the ready, both looking like they'd rather be anywhere else.

Jasper said something inaudible to Rosalind, who shook her head. It was clear that even now, in the heat of the moment, they were still trying to brainstorm a way for both of them to make it out alive. But Kimera knew that at this point it was too late. They were in the arena, and there was no way for both of them to come out.

"Sick bastard," Lylie muttered from next to Kimera. She was glad the dancer was here, even if Lylie wasn't the best of friends with anyone in this arena. Having a hand to hold made everything easier, and if she was being honest, Kimera really did prefer that hand to be Lylie's.

She followed Lylie's gaze to see what she was looking at. To no one's surprise, she was looking at the king. He had a wicked grin on his face and a light in his eyes that disgusted Kimera. He was looking at his children like they were a round of dice. This was all a game to him. He was voting for a team, and he had placed his bets. He knew what the outcome would be before the game had started. It made Kimera nauseous.

"He's going to win, isn't he?" Lylie squeezed Kimera's hand. "He's going to get away with this."

"No," Kimera whispered. "He's not. I don't know how we're going to stop him, but he can't get away with this. He just can't."

"What do you propose we do?" Lylie asked.

Kimera bit her lip. "I don't know."

❂

Aslan and Zar came late. By the time they arrived, the fight had already begun. Of course, it could barely be called a fight. Zar looked down at the siblings, who were decidedly not fighting each other. Every so often one of them swiped halfheartedly at the other with their sword, but it was only to keep up the appearance of combat.

Aslan was right next to Zar, and even though they weren't touching Zar could practically feel the stress rolling off him. He tapped his foot and chewed his nails, watching the twins nervously.

The king's face, which had been triumphant at first, was slowly turning to disappointment. He'd probably wanted a real fight, with blood and tears and cheering. What he got instead was tension thick enough knead between your knuckles.

The silence was deafening. Zar scanned the crowd, trying to judge other people's moods. Most of them looked bored, but a few actually looked invested in the fight. Something weird caught his eye, though.

A few of the crowd members were pulling masks over their faces. He couldn't see well enough to read their expressions, but from the way they were dressed and the barely-concealed weapons under their clothes, they looked like they meant business. One by one, each of them turned eyes towards the king. How suspect.

Oh no.

"Aslan," Zar whispered. "We have to leave."

"What?" Aslan turned to him, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Shh," Zar warned. He made a hand motion for Aslan to lower his voice. He knew that in such a crowded place even whispers might be easily heard. If what he suspected was true and an organized coup was about to take place, any warning could incite panic and mass hysteria, or worse, warn the king. If Zar had it his way, the coup would succeed and the king would be dead. But he had the feeling that he didn't want Aslan to be around when the violence started. He doubted the king would be the only victim. "We have to get out of here."

"No," Aslan said firmly, as if offended that Zar even suggested that. "I know you don't want to be here, but they're my friends. I'm staying."

Zar thought vaguely, He's loyal to the end. Too loyal for his own good. Oh, Aslan, why do you have to be such a good person? "Please," he said instead of that. "Aslan, please just trust me. I am telling you, we have to go somewhere else."

Aslan searched his eyes, trying to discern the meaning behind the words. Zar must have looked more sincere than he wanted to show, because though Aslan still looked skeptical he nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

❂

Raven didn't have time to be screaming. He didn't have the time to look out his window and watch the fight and yell that Rosalind could do this. He was busy.

In the time it took for the arena to fill up he'd managed to dislodge a nail from the walls. It wasn't enough to loosen them enough to kick down, but he'd seen people pick locks with nails before. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to pick locks. He'd thought, How hard can it be?

Very hard, as it turned out. The people he'd seen do it made it look easy. The nail fit in the keyhole to the cell door, but it was hard to maneuver from the inside and Raven had no idea what the key actually looked like, so he was just randomly fiddling with the lock in the hopes that it would somehow work to his advantage.

Footsteps coming down the hallway caught his attention, and he had just enough time to tuck the nail into his back pocket before a woman came into view. However, to his surprise, she wasn't a guard. She looked like a commoner, dressed in rags and messy, white-blond hair nearly blackened with dirt that she couldn't wash out. Her left eye was covered by an eyepatch.

"Hey!" she called, noticing Raven. She ran over to him and clutched the bars of his cell. "You need some help, there, buddy?"

"Do I," Raven breathed, relieved. "I don't expect you to know what's going on, but I have to get out of here."

"Do you have something I can use to pick the lock?"

He handed her the nail, and she set to work on the door. Obviously she wasn't much better than he was, but she did seem to be making a bit more progress than he had been. Raven tried to angle himself so he could see what she was doing.

"You're the tiger keeper, right?" she asked.

Raven tilted his head. "How do you know that?"

"You can talk to the tigers? Like, they listen to you?"

"Yes, but I don't see-"

"Can you get them to kill the prince and princess?"

Raven froze. "What?"

The woman stopped what she was doing to look at him. "We're here to kill the royal family. Aren't you tired of what they're doing to us? They locked you in here, for desert's sake. So, will you help me get the tigers to kill the royal twins?"

"No!" Raven exclaimed. "That's wrong! The prince and princess haven't done any wrong-"

"Oh." The woman let her hand drop, pulling the nail out of the lock. "You're on their side."

"What?" Raven reached out to take the nail back from her, but she was already backing away. "No, I'm not on the king's side, I want him dead too, but the twins aren't-"

"I'm sorry," she said. "You probably don't deserve to be in there. But you'll have to stay there, because if you're going to be protecting them, then you'll only get in our way."

"No, no I won't-" Raven started saying while he reached as far as he could through the bars. Unfortunately, she was already walking away. "I just have to get out, please do not leave me-"

She shook her head and ran off further down the hall.

"Wait!" he called after her. He could already hear her footsteps receding, fading from his senses. "Don't do this!"

She was gone. "Dammit!" He kicked the cell door one last time, and it didn't budge, as was to be expected. "Dammit, dammit!"

He ran to his window and looked out at Rosalind, whose eyes were still locked with Jasper's.

"Rosalind!" he shouted. Both twins looked up at him, surprised he had broken the silence by calling out to them. "Get out of there, someone's trying to kill you!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the warning bells began to toll.

❂

Even before the bells started ringing, Lylie knew there would be trouble. She had seen the people pulling masks on, and she had watched as their eyes all turned towards the king in a mutual hatred. But she had caught on too late. By the time she realized what was happening, people had already begun panicking.

"Intruders!" The voices of the guards rang from the top of the wall and from around the arena. "Intruders have breached the gates! There are too many of them!"

Lylie could see on the far side of the arena, across from where she and Kimera sat, people were flooding the already-full arena. These people were most definitely not spectators. They carried weapons, swords and crossbows and axes, and they didn't hesitate to turn to mindless violence. They started hacking at anyone in the crowd they could reach.

"Oh gods!"

"Run! Run for your lives!"

"This is it! I warned you this day would come!"

Panicked voices of nobles and peasants alike echoed around the arena. People started screaming, running, trampling each other. Lylie was nearly shoved onto her back by someone who pushed past her, desperate to get to an exit. She gripped Kimera's hand tighter, determined not to be separated.

"What's happening?" Kimera shouted to her over the chaos.

"The castle is under attack!" Lylie hollered back. "The people are revolting!"

Ecthelion, on Kimera's other side, pulled out his sword as he stood up. The sight of a weapon made the nobles who were scrambling around them back up as if he'd lit a bomb. "You both get out of here!"

"What are you going to do?" Kimera yelled.

"I have to protect people!" Ecthelion answered.

"You're not going to protect the king, are you?" Lylie shouted.

Ecthelion scowled. "The king has about twenty guards on him at all times, visible or not. He wouldn't need me to protect him even if I wanted to, which I don't. But not everyone in this arena is guilty. The starving and desperate won't care to check who is and isn't deserving of death; they kill mindlessly, in search of relief. I have to protect whoever I can from an early grave!"

Lylie nodded, not agreeing but understanding. "Go on, then!"

Ecthelion began to push his way around the crowd, and soon she lost sight of him amongst the fleeing people. She turned to Kimera.

"He's got a point!" Lylie cried. "You are dressed like a noble, and those people won't hesitate to cut you down! We have to get you out of here!"

Kimera nodded, eyes wide with panic. "Where do we go?"

"Follow me!" Lylie began to follow the crowd, using her dancer's feet to find space to weave around people quickly and easily. She dragged Kimera behind her, sure to keep the seer in her slipstream. "I don't have a plan, but we sure as hell can't stay here!"

❂

Ecthelion charged through the crowd, swinging his sword like a bat. Everything was in utter chaos. People were screaming, in fear and in rage. He was being shoved from side to side by each person who ran into him. No one paid any heed to the people around them. It was every man for himself.

The people were angry and desperate, and they'd built up a hatred for the nobles that extended beyond logic. They wanted revenge, and they'd take it out on anyone. Even if the nobles deserved to be punished, they didn't deserve to be slaughtered.

Ecthelion was careful. He hit people with the flat of his blade to knock them out instead of killing them. Most of these people were scared, hungry, thirsty, frantic, and they didn't deserve to die either. The swordsman was a trailblazer, forging a way through the forest of people. He was a human tornado, spinning and whacking anyone within reach.

When he finally ran out of steam and stopped to catch his breath, he looked around him, taking the time to assess the full situation for the first time. The king was not idle. He had taken a crossbow from one of his guards and was sniping commoners, the odious grin still pasted to his face. The twins taking action of their own. They crouched by the door together, trying to pull it open again. Unfortunately, it only opened out, and it was far too heavy for the two of them to lift without using the ropes and pulleys that were out of their reach. Until someone managed to get that door open, they were trapped in the arena. On the bright side, no one was trying to jump down to get them. He doubted that made it any less tempting to stay there.

Ecthelion started to go towards them, ready to pull the door open for them. However, he was distracted by the screaming from nearby.

A boy, probably no more than twenty years old, was jumping through the crowd, long knives in both hands. He was swaying and ducking and rolling, slicing through soldiers and nobles alike as though he was cutting down wheat. They fell to his blades, each one screaming bloodily before their throats were sliced and they choked on their own blood. The boy wore a red mask, but it might not even have been seen with how red the rest of his face was. He was covered in blood, his clothes, knives, and fluffy hazel hair dripping with it. His eyes were clear, though. Clear and focused. He killed liberally, but with direction. He was making a beeline for the king, and he would carve his way through anyone to get there. He was crazy with a controlled madness, out of his right mind but thinking lucidly.

Ecthelion had to rethink his choice to save the twins. Even if he wasn't particularly moved to save the king, that boy was a danger to everyone around him. Until someone stopped him, he'd kill and kill and kill any innocent in his path. The king had no problem with sacrificing his guards to save his own life, but Ecthelion sure had one. The twins will have to survive on their own a little longer, I have to stop the boy.

He charged after the boy, the arena already almost clear of people. Everyone had either fled or chased out through the many, many doors, so only a few people were left to get in Ecthelion's way. He knocked them out easily.

However, the sound of the arena doors opening made his stop again. He looked down to see Rosalind and Jasper jumping back, their body language screaming fear. Two of the revolutionaries were pulling the doors open, but the eager grin on their faces said that they were not doing it to get Rosalind and Jasper out.

From underneath the doors slid two shapes, orange and striped and ready to kill. The tigers had been released into the arena.

The rebels cut the ropes to the doors, and they slammed shut behind the animals. There was no hope of opening them out now. The twins were trapped with the tigers.

The tigers themselves were crouched onto their haunches, ready to pounce at any second. Their maws already dripped blood, meaning they had killed whoever set them free. They clearly weren't done killing yet, either. They were hungry, mistreated animals, and that made them dangerous. Rosalind and Jasper didn't stand a chance against them.

If Ecthelion squinted, he could make out the vague shape of Raven in one of the windowed cells. He was shouting something at the tigers, but they weren't listening to him.

If Ecthelion could get Raven out of the cells and into the arena, there was a chance he could calm the tigers down. It was a slim chance, but it was the only chance the twins had. Of course, if he did that, he would leave the king and all his guards at the mercy of the boy in the red mask.

It wasn't even a choice. Ecthelion didn't have to think for more than a second before he ran out of the arena to the entrance to the tunnels. He was going to get Raven out of there, he was going to save the twins, and he would not be stopped.

❂

Aslan didn't really understand what was happening, but he didn't like it.

People were running over each other like stampeding animals, knocking others over and stomping on each other just to get away. Zar had led him back into the palace in an attempt to get to his tower, which was defensible and hard to reach, but they hadn't been quick enough. A terrified mob could move quickly, and soon the halls were flooded.

To Aslan's surprise, most of the people weren't nobles. The common people were rising, and they filled the castle halls, taking everything they could pry off the walls. They worked together to bust down doors to search every room. Cries of "Water! Water! Where is the water?" resounded through the corridors.

Zar held Aslan's hand and used his own weight to push past people. The hallways were too narrow for such a large crowd, and people who were pushed over weren't likely to get back up again. They had passed a body somewhere back down the hall, a young boy who had been trampled to death by his own desperate people. In the search for water, everyone was a sacrifice the people were willing to make.

Aslan stopped at every opportunity he could to help people get back to their feet. They never thanked him, but instead ran off, joining the herd again. This didn't deter Aslan. He wasn't doing it for thanks. He was doing it so they would live.

Zar was not very happy with his heroics. He let Aslan do it, but as soon as the person was on their feet again, Zar dragged Aslan along. He gripped Aslan's hand tightly as if the servant was in danger of being swept away. He probably wasn't wrong.

A little girl, no more than seven years old, went down next to Aslan. She was kicked in the ribs by someone else and started to cry. She sprawled out, trying to find ground to push herself back out, but this only made her limbs easier to tread on. "Mommy!" she cried. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

"Zar!" Aslan tugged against the conjuror's hand, trying to get to the girl. "We have to help her!"

"We have to get out of here!" Zar replied over the din. "Aslan, don't-"

Aslan didn't listen. He wrenched his hand from Zar's and leapt to help the little girl.

"Aslan!" That was the last thing Aslan heard him shout before he was pushed away by the crowd.

Without Zar to steady him the crowd was able to push him this way and that, and he was almost knocked off his feet several times before he reached her. He bent down just enough to grip her under her arms and pull her up.

"Where are your parents?" he asked. She didn't reply. As soon as she was up again, she ran off, disappearing in the sea of legs.

Rough hands gripped Aslan by the shoulders and spun him around. An old man with missing teeth faced him, a rabid look in his eyes. "Where's the water?" he rasped desperately. "Do you have any water?"

"What?" Aslan held up his hands, trying to get the man to let go of him. "No, I don't have any-"

The man obviously wasn't willing to waste time on someone with no water. He shoved Aslan out of his way and continued down the hall. The push sent Aslan spinning, and the floor went from under him. Someone else kicked at his ankle and he fell to the floor.

He suddenly understood the terror that overtook everyone he had seen fall. He had wondered, Why don't they try harder to get up? The answer was panic. As boot after boot connected with Aslan's back, stomach, arms, face, he could do nothing but feebly try to roll away from the pain. However, there were feet everywhere down here, it was like trying to navigate a moving jungle. No, it was more like being taken out to sea by a riptide. There was nothing he could do against such a strong force. He could only curl himself into a ball and hope that it would be over soon. Zar, help me, help me, please... As person after person placed their entire weight on him as they ran over him, he was sure his ribs would break.

Whatever survival instinct he could hear over the pounding of his own heart compelled him to crawl slowly to the side of the hallway, to find a corner where people could go around him instead of over him. He pressed his back against the white ceramic walls, grateful for the solidness of the tile to protect him. He put a hand to his side, wincing. There was no way his bones weren't at least cracked. His nose was bleeding and he pressed his sleeve up to it. His breathing was becoming erratic, and he fought back a panic attack. This wasn't the time to cry.

Aslan had wanted this, hadn't he? He's wanted the people to rise up. He's wanted things to change.

But not like this. Not like this.

"Hey!" A clear, loud voice rang out above all the others, though Aslan couldn't see its owner. "Isn't that the conjuror?"

Aslan's heart did something like a belly flop. What did they want with Zar?

The voice was soon joined by more voices as the people's attention was caught.

"Conjuror!"

"He is the conjuror!"

"Where's our water?"

"You were supposed to summon the water!"

"Where's our water?"

"WHERE'S OUR WATER?"

Aslan couldn't see Zar, but he could tell that the crowd was angering more with each new voice. The conjuror was in trouble.

This wasn't going to end well.

❂

Jasper was on the verge of an anxiety attack. The only thing keeping him together was his need to protect Rosalind.

The tigers crouched like a wound spring, teeth already dripping red. They snarled low in their throats, displaying a wicked set of canines. Teeth like that could rip Jasper apart in seconds. However, they weren't focused on Jasper. Their eyes were on Rosalind.

He was sure they'd already pinpointed her as the weaker of the two, not for any reason but her crippled ankle. It may not have been much of a hindrance in her normal life, but it marked her as a target to a predator. Jasper didn't think he'd ever have to be the one holding up a sword in defense of his sister, because he knew she was plenty skilled with a blade herself. However, these animals were abused and wouldn't hesitate to go after the little girl with the limp. Rosalind didn't usually require protecting, but Jasper was going to protect her even if she didn't need it.

They stood back to back, swords pointed at the animals circling them.

"What do we do?" Jasper asked, counting on his sister to have come up with a plan.

"Somehow get to a wall that we can back up against," she answered somewhat hesitantly. "We won't have to cover our backs. We'll be cornered, but we'll only have to expect attacks from the front."

"How do you suggest we get to the wall?"

"No idea."

Then, he saw it. He heard it too. A blood-curdling scream from the king's box. An armored body fell. Jasper, Rosalind, and both tigers stopped paying attention to each other to look at what was happening. The rest of the arena fell silent as well. All eyes turned to the box.

The body that had fallen was that of one of the guards. He'd been knocked right through the railing and died on impact in the sand, his spine cracked in two. The railing had fallen with him, kicking up sand as it landed on top of his body. The tigers abandoned Jasper and Rosalind to run over to the readily accessible food source. They were probably starving, and already dead meat was easier than killing either twin.

Jasper's father was on his knees, subdued by a young boy. Bodies lay in a circle around him, all his guards having been killed. The boy's knives still dripped. His face and clothes were red as well, as if he had been swimming in the stuff.

Jasper had never seen the king so afraid. He held his hands up at the level of his eyes, looking down at the boy's boots. Was he quaking?

"Hello, your majesty," the boy said haughtily. "Do you recognize me?"

The king shook his head. His panicked breathing could be heard even from the sand.

"You wouldn't," the boy said. "You don't give your subjects a second look. But you will look at me."

The king did not look up.

"Look at me!" The boy shouted, ripping the red mask off his face. He used the fabric to wipe the blood off his face, revealing how young he really was.

The king's eyes rose, and though he faced away from Jasper, the prince could tell he was scared for his life.

"My name is Ariel." Ariel grabbed the king by the collar of his robes and pushed backwards until the man was dangling over the dropoff into the arena. With the railing gone, there was nothing to keep him from falling but Ariel's grip. "Say it."

"Ariel," the king stammered.

"You killed someone very close to me, your majesty. His name was Abracius. He was a good person, and yet you threw him to the tigers. You laughed as they ripped him apart, as he bled out in the sand. You killed him unjustly. I want to hear you say that you killed him unjustly."

"I killed him unjustly," the king gasped.

"Say his name!"

"I killed Abracius unjustly!"

"Are you alright, your majesty?" Ariel tilted his head. "You look afraid. Are you afraid? Scared of the tigers? As you should be. As was everyone else you threw down there. This is justice. You and your bloodline end here."

"I'm sorry," the king gasped. "Please, don't do this. I will do anything. Please. Please, don't kill me."

Jasper had never seen his father beg before. He had never seen him look so weak and submissive. His father had always seemed so strong, so absolute in his power. But now, all his guards were dead. His people were fleeing. His weapons were gone. He was alone.

"Anything?" Ariel repeated.

"Yes," the king affirmed quickly. "Anything. I'll give you anything you want. What do you want? I'll give it to you. Please, don't kill me."

Ariel glared at him. If looks could kill, this boy might have killed everyone in the arena. "I want Abracius back. But you killed him already. So I want the next best thing."

He let go.

The king dropped like a stone. His scream echoed through the arena, and he landed in the sand with an audible crack. However, unlike the guard who had fallen, he lived through his plummet.

The tigers looked up at his scream. They were no longer hungry, they had eaten their fill of the guard who had fallen. Now, they were just angry. For once, they could take their anger out on the person who had locked them up, stolen them from their home, made them fight for entertainment. Jasper didn't know if they were intelligent enough to know that the man writhing in the sand before them was responsible, but by the way they were looking at him, it didn't matter.

The king tried to sit up, wincing. His leg was bent at too awkward an angle to be unbroken. The leg of his slacks had a spike sticking up where the bone must have broken through the skin.

"Jasper, Rosalind!" The king called to his children. The tigers began to creep closer, testing to see if their prey would run away or fight back. "Help me!"

Rosalind grabbed Jasper by the wrist. "Don't move," she said.

But Jasper didn't see that he had a choice. He hated his father in so many ways. He hated him as a parent, as a king, as a person. He had done horrible things to everyone, even to Jasper. But he was still Jasper's father. He was still a human life. Jasper was a healer. He couldn't watch someone die while they begged for help.

"The royal bloodline ends here!" Ariel shouted. As he said that, a new squadron of guards rushed in through the arena doors. Their captain pointed to Ariel, and they all charged. Ariel took the opportunity to make a run for it, hopping up the throne of the box and using the height to jump over the walls of the arena. He was gone from sight moments later. The guards chased after him.

Jasper charged forward, leaving Rosalind grasping at empty air. He didn't know really why he was doing this. All he knew was that he didn't want anyone to die. Not even the king. After all, what did it say about Jasper if he could watch his own father be killed?

"Jasper!" Rosalind called. "What are you doing?"

"I can't watch him die, Rosalind," Jasper replied. "Not even if he's a horrible person."

"You're too good, Jasper," Rosalind wailed. "You're always too good! For once, can't you just be bitter? You know he deserves this!"

"Then he can face true justice before an impartial court when this is over. But I won't watch him die like this."

Jasper didn't wait to hear what Rosalind said next. He rushed towards his father, running as best he could over the sand, raising his sword again. The tigers saw that he was also charging at their new target, and they moved to stop him. One of them jumped at him, opening its mouth and roaring. It extended its claws and swiped at Jasper.

Jasper had never been more thankful for his training with Ecthelion. He ducked and rolled under the tiger, spinning as soon as he was back on his feet and slapping the tiger across the face with the side of his blade. He wasn't about to kill this animal just because it was doing what any animal in its position would do. If he could help it, no one in this arena would die.

While the first tiger shook its head and recovered from Jasper's blow, the second attacked the king. The man yelped and held his hands up meekly, closing his eyes. Jasper jumped in between the two of them and batted at the tiger the way he had to its friend. It chuffed in pain and retreated, drawing back and pawing at its face.

"Jasper-"

"Stay down!" Jasper shouted at his father. "I'm not doing this to save you, I'm doing this because I'm a better person than you and I'm not going to let my feelings towards you get in the way of saving a human life."

"I don't-"

"Just shut up!" Jasper swung as a tiger came closer. He tried to keep himself between the tigers and the king, but there were two of them and only one of him. He couldn't see where Rosalind was. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing any armor except for leather shoulder pads. It would be all too easy to kill him like this.

One tiger swiped at Jasper, its claws catching only the edge of his tunic. He felt a tug at the fabric but leaned backwards, letting it rip instead of pull him closer to the tiger's teeth. He was almost ready to swing again to knock the tiger over when a hand on his arm dragged him in front of the king.

Jasper had just enough time to think He's using me as a human shield, before a pain like nothing he'd ever felt decimated the left side of his ribcage. It was like the feeling of eating a spicy pepper, only thirty times worse, and it was in his very blood. Each nerve was burning, dissolving, and Jasper wished he could cut that part of his body off if only it would make the pain stop. He felt it as each individual tooth found its way under his skin. He screamed, a sound that tore its way out of his throat with claws of its own. It hurts, it hurts-

The tiger that had bit him was uninterested in finishing the job. Jasper registered that even though his legs had given out under him the tiger held him in the air with its mouth. It swung its head and tossed Jasper like a rag doll across the sand, and it hurts so much-

His body rolled, sand finding its way into his wound. His own blood splattered in the sand, a sick painting of red and gold. And, oh, it hurts it hurts-

He could hear his father screaming. He could hear the crunching of flesh and bones as the tigers ripped his father apart, but he couldn't bring himself to look. He was in too much pain, it hurts it hurts- All he could do was gasp for air, and grit his teeth, and wish that it would just be over already. Oh, desert, he wished it was over already. Was this what every criminal who had been thrown in this arena had felt? This was horrible. No human deserved this. No one at all deserved this. It hurt so bad, it hurts, there's so much pain-

He fought for consciousness when he saw Rosalind leaning over him. He could tell she was speaking, but his ears felt like they were clogged with wool. He couldn't hear a thing. He could barely see through the tears filling his eyes, and his whole body felt watery with blood, sweat, panic, oh desert, it hurts so much- it hurts it hurts it hurts-

Rosalind was looking back and forth between him it hurts it hurts and where the tigers were still hunched over the body of what used to be their father. It hurts so much, everything hurts- The tigers weren't done killing. They still wanted Jasper, they still wanted Rosalind.

Rosalind raised her sword now, ready to protect her brother. It hurts like nothing I've ever felt before. She was all that stood between him and the jaws of death.

She would not let him die.

❂

A maze of ceramic, an urgent someone to find. It rang a vague and distant bell in Aslan's mind. He wished he had Monk Tinley to guide him this time, but Monk Tinley was dead. He was on his own.

He found the strength to puush himself off the floor and shove through the crowd. He found Zar with a ball of fire in his palm, trying to keep the crowd at bay. He stood in something like a clearing, no one daring to get near his flames. However, his face was just barely hiding how afraid Aslan could tell he was. The crowd around him was brandishing weapons, every one of them looking at him with inexpressible and unreasonable hatred.

"You were supposed to summon the water!" one man shouted. Zar blew into his palm and a tongue of fire burst in a pillar towards the man.

"Stay back," Zar warned. "I will burn you if you take one step closer."

"You failed us!" a woman added. "It's your fault! You have magic, you should be using it!"

"All your magic couldn't be bothered to help us!"

"You're selfish!"

"This is your fault!"

"We want our water!"

"Give us our water!"

Aslan jumped forward against his better judgement, trusting that Zar wouldn't bake him alive. "Stop it, leave him alone!" He thought briefly that this was a bad idea, but he cared a whole hell of a lot about Zar and he was ready to protect him however he could.

"Why are you defending him?" one woman asked.

"He's on their side!" a young boy called. "He's a traitor!"

"Listen to me!" Aslan cried over their threats and accusations. "Balthazar is a good person!"

"That's debatable," Zar whispered so only Aslan could hear.

"Really," Aslan replied exasperatedly. "You're doing this right now?"

Zar shrugged. Aslan elected to ignore him.

"Zar tried to use his magic to summon the water," he explained. "You all know types of magic are muted in Ailica, he did what he could with the resources he had. He worked day and night to get you the water he knew you needed."

"Liar!" an old woman shouted. "You're hoarding the water, aren't you?"

"You are!" The crowd began to erupt with more riotous shouts. "You're hiding our water! Give it to us now!"

They started closing in on Zar and Aslan. Zar blew a wave of flames towards them again. Aslan knew that it was only meant to be a warning, but he also knew that Zar would be willing to set the entire kingdom ablaze if it meant saving his own life, and Aslan's too.

"I warned you," Zar said, "Come closer and I will burn you."

"Hey, conjuror!" the crowd parted for the owner of the voice. Aslan recognized the old man who had pushed him over. He held a loaded crossbow in his hands, aimed right at Zar's chest. "Burn this!" He fired.

Aslan didn't need time to think. It was an instinctual movement, he didn't realize he was doing it until it was over. He grabbed Zar by the shoulders and pivoted both of them so they swapped places. He felt the arrow land right between his shoulder blades, like a hundred wasps stinging him in one place. He let out a small, weak gasp in the place of a scream, and leaned against Zar as his legs were knocked out from under him by the surprise of the sudden pain. Zar's hands were on his arms, trying to hold him up, but he was falling, he was falling, he was falling.

❂

Raven pushed at the bars on the window like he'd never pushed anything. If he pushed any harder he would dislocate his wrist. He was hysterical, mad almost, no clear thoughts in his head. He needed to get out. He needed to get to Rosalind. She was hunched over the crumpled form of Jasper, who wouldn't be alive much longer if they left him there. After Tero had bitten him, Jasper had gone completely silent. The erratic rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that told Raven he was still breathing. Tero and Caspian were closing in, blood spilling over the lips of their jaws. Their orange faces were red now, with the blood of the people they had killed. Alone they might have been beaten, but together there was no force in the desert to stop them, except perhaps him. But he was locked up in here, and they did not hear him no matter how loud he shouted.

Was he about to watch his beloved animals kill the person he loved most?

More footsteps began tramping down the hallway. Raven was wary of them after the last person who had come down to see him and stolen his only hope of unlocking the door, but when he saw Ecthelion he nearly deflated with relief.

"Ecthelion," he breathed, the panic evident in his voice. "Get me out of here."

"Hold on." Ecthelion reached for his belt, where a set of keys was hooked. He looked unfamiliar with them, which meant he had stolen them from someone. Good for him. "I'm gonna get you out, hold on."

The door swung open almost as soon as the key went in. Ecthelion charged in and gripped Raven by the arm. "Come on, the twins won't survive much longer down there."

"I know," Raven assured him. He pulled away from his grasp and took the sword right off his belt.

"What are you doing?" Ecthelion reached for his sword, and Raven leaned away from him. "We have to get to the exit."

"We don't have time to go all the way through the tunnels," Raven pointed out. "This is faster." He stuck the point of the sword under the bars of the window and pulled down. He hadn't been able to do this with just his body, but with a sword as a proper and sturdy lever, he was able to wrench the grate iron bars clean off the stone it had been hammered into. The grate went flying, and clattered to the rock floor at Raven's feet.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Ecthelion asked.

"No," Raven decided. "If you go down there, you'll just be offering the tigers another meal. It has to be just me." Raven handed his sword back to him.

Ecthelion nodded. "Okay. If you're set, I'm going to head into the castle. There are innocent people about to be slaughtered, and I have to save as many as I can."

"Go do your hero thing." Raven didn't wait to watch him run off again. He pushed himself up onto the windowsill and tipped himself forward, flipping through the open window and landing on his back in a puff of sand.

He sat up as soon as he got his wits back about him. Rosalind was a short distance away from him, holding her sword in one hand and trying to staunch Jasper's rapid bleeding with the other. Jasper himself was gasping, his eyes open and blinking furiously. He looked blind, almost, and delirious.

Raven ran across the sand, sending it up in waves around him. He threw himself between Rosalind and the tigers, holding his hands up.

"Raven!" Rosalind shouted, the joy in her voice at his arrival making his heart stutter. "How did you-"

"Shh," he said suddenly, not wanting her to attract attention from the tiger. He loved Caspian and Tero, but they were dangerous right now. They'd killed, and they would kill again. He would never forgive himself if he let them kill her. "Caspian, Tero, get back."

He stepped forward hesitantly, never dropping his hands. The tigers backed up as he approached, confusion on their faces. They were obviously not willing to hurt Raven, but they couldn't fathom as to why he was defending Rosalind and Jasper. Why was he siding with their enemy?

"Shhh," he said again, this time to the tigers. "Shh, guys, it's okay. I know you're scared and angry. But it's time to calm down." He gave a low purr in his throat, a sound he often heard them make when trying to comfort each other. Caspian purred back to him, eyes regretful. Tero, on the other hand, still looked angry and frightened. He didn't like that Rosalind was still holding up her sword.

"Drop the weapon," Raven said slowly. He turned his head just enough to see Rosalind lower her sword before snapping his eyes back to the tigers. He didn't want them out of his sight for even a minute.

"What do we do?" Rosalind whispered. "How do we get out? The doors are still closed, and the ropes are cut-"

"I don't know," Raven said honestly. "I don't know."

Tero gave a bark-like sound and snapped his jaws at Raven, surprising him. Tero had never been this aggressive before, but then, he'd never been so close to freedom. Tero and Caspian probably saw this as their only chance of escaping this horrible place, and they were willing to kill anyone to get out. If Raven was a traitor in their eyes, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him either. It was only a matter of time before they decided whose side he was on.

Raven jumped back, narrowly avoiding getting his fingers bitten off. "Rosalind, we have to get out of here."

"I know, but I don't know how-"

"Up here!"

Raven and Rosalind both looked up at a new voice who had thrown herself into the mix. The woman who it belonged to stood on the lowest level of the stands, and she had a bow strapped over her back. Her light brown hair was in a mess, and Raven had the nerve to wonder when the last time she'd brushed it was. He slapped himself mentally for being so judgemental of their savior.

The woman lowered a rope that she tied to the railing. Rosalind gripped the end of it, not questioning who the woman was. Undoubtedly, she was just glad that someone had come to save them. She started tying it around Jasper just under his arms, careful to avoid the bite wound.

"I'll go last," Raven said and she held out a hand for him. "Get Jasper out."

The woman pulled Jasper up first as Raven said, She was remarkably strong, either that or remarkably desperate, because she had him out of the arena in a matter of seconds. She lowered the rope again for Rosalind to grab onto. Rosalind climbed it herself, bracing her legs against the walls of the arena.

Caspian gave an aggressive chuff when he realized that the targets were escaping. He jumped around Raven, bouncing off the wall and biting at Rosalind's heels. He missed narrowly, falling back to the sand as Rosalind rolled over the top of the railing and into the stands.

Raven was left alone in the arena, both tigers circling him. But they were his animals, he knew them... they wouldn't kill him. Would they? He had cared for them during their entire captivity, and he had known them even before then. Would they disregard that just because he had defended Rosalind?

Their eyes said yes.

Raven didn't have time to think about it. He feinted to the side, and as Tero jumped to intercept him he rolled underneath Caspian and grabbed the rope. Rosalind and the other woman grabbed his hands and pulled him up just before Caspian could drag him back down. It broke his heart to leave his animals in the arena, but he didn't see any other options.

As soon as his feet were on the ground he enveloped Rosalind in a tight hug. "Rosie, thank the desert you're alive." She felt so right tucked in his arms, like he'd been made so that he could hold her. Her heavy breathing echoed in his ears, and he swayed slightly from exhaustion and dehydration.

Rosalind hugged him right back. "Raven, thank you, thank you..." She was so close he could hear the rapid beats of her heart.

He couldn't stop himself now, like he had so many times before. He pulled away just far enough that he could lean forward and kiss her.

To his surprise, she didn't even gasp. She didn't make any small noises of surprise, or push him away, or any of the things he'd expected. She just leaned into it as if she had expected it the whole time, and put a hand to the side of his face to cup him to her and prevent him from pulling away. He held her by her waist, just in case her legs gave out, but if he was being honest, his were the more likely to fail him.

Rosalind broke away from his lips to whisper softly, "I love you, I love you," and pull him back into that incredible embrace, only now it was a thousand times more intimate.

"I love you too," he replied, ready to faint with glee. He clutched her to him like that for only a few seconds, but he wished for an eternity.

However, it couldn't last for eternity, and Rosalind pulled away quickly. She crouched over the prone body of Jasper, whom the other woman was also fussing over. He was barely breathing, and small moans escaped his lips. He sounded like he was right on Death's door.

"Thank you for saving us," Rosalind said to the woman. "Who are you?"

"My name is Alkemena," she said. "Jasper won't have mentioned me."

"You know Jasper?" Rosalind gasped. "You're that girl, aren't you? The one the king threatened?"

"I'm- the king was threatening me?" Alkemena's face dropped as she came to some kind of realization. "That's why he finally told me. That's why he couldn't- I'm an idiot."

"Hey, you saved us," Raven said. "Obviously you're fairly competent if you managed that. Now, I think we had better get Jasper to a healer stat, because he isn't going to last much longer."

Jasper gave a broken wheeze as if to back Raven up.

"You're right." Rosalind pulled the top layer of her jerkin off, leaving her in a tunic. "Tie this around his chest, it'll help with the bleeding, let's get him out of here-"

While she and Alkemena began to tie the fabric around Jasper's wound, more commotion made Raven look up. A new crowd of people were flooding into the arena, Ariel at the head. He first noted the mangled corpse of the king in the sand where the tigers still circled, then up again at Raven and the others. "Alkemena!" he shouted across the space. "You can't save them! I told you not to get in our way!"

Alkemena looked up at him and her eyes widened in fear. "Time to go." She pulled Jasper's arm over her shoulders and started to pull him to his feet. The prince groaned at the tug on his bleeding ribs. Raven took his other arm. "Where can we hide?"

"There's an entrance to the siege tunnels over here," Rosalind said, motioning for Raven and Alkemena to follow. "There should be a way out through there, and even if not there's a place we can barricade ourselves in until this is all over."

"But Jasper needs a healer," Alkemena pleaded. An arrow whizzed through the air and struck the stone at Raven's feet, making him jump. Ariel and company were running over the stands, trying to get to Rosalind and Jasper. His knives were still red.

"Better we keep him safe and barely alive than get caught and killed for certain," Raven said. "Lead the way, Rosie."

❂

Kimera was having a hard time keeping up with Lylie. The other woman had dancer's feet in every aspect of her movement, and she ran like she was performing, quickly but with skill. If they weren't grasping each other's hands so tightly, Kimera was sure she would have been left behind ages ago.

Lylie and she had been taking a shortcut through the castle to a pair of gates that might not have been blocked, but they had been cut off by another group of commoners, who took one look at Kimera and began stringing their bows. Lylie hadn't thought twice before turning around the first available corner and running as fast as possible.

"Where do we go now?" Kimera asked, stumbling over her own feet as they ran.

"This is your house!" Lylie retorted. "Where do you think is safe?"

"The healer's tower is up here," Kimera said, tugging them both to a halt and pointing to the staircase. "We can go up. I doubt anyone will look for us there."

Angry shouts and footsteps could be heard right behind them.

"I wouldn't be so sure, but I don't think we have another option," Lylie said, and they bolted up the stairs. Kimera didn't think she'd ever run so fast up these stairs in her life. They burst through the door and slammed it shut behind them. Kimera bolted the door and Lylie pushed one of the cabinets to cover it. However, Kimera doubted that it would hold the mob back for long.

A knock on the door made them both jump. "We know the seer is in there!" an angry voice shouted through the wood. "Open up!"

"She failed us!" another voice added. "Seer, you failed us! What, you think your magic is too good to find a way to bring the rain back?"

"That's not how it works," Kimera whispered sadly.

"Hey," Lylie said, taking Kimera's face in her hands. "They're wrong. There was nothing else you could have done. You did give a prophecy, and there might still be hope, okay? We just have to live through today. Don't listen to them. You haven't failed anyone."

The door shook as someone bashed their shoulder against it. "Open up, seer!" Another bang.

"What do we do?" Kimera asked as Lylie pressed herself up against the cabinet to keep it from sliding. "There's nowhere else to run."

Lylie scanned the room, perhaps looking for a weapon or an exit route, and she ran to the window. "Follow me."

"What?" Kimera obeyed, but when she looked out of the window, all she saw was a long, steep drop to certain death. "You're not suggesting we jump out the window?"

"Desert sands, no," Lylie said. She braced her arms on the top of the window and started to scoot out of it. "But look here."

She pressed her feet to the narrow ledge that went around the outside of the tower. It was built to act like a windowsill, but it extended all the way around the tower's exterior. It was only about a hand's width, but Lylie pressed her heels against the stone and somehow managed to balance enough that she was standing outside the tower.

"You're crazy," Kimera said. "There's no handholds. We'll be killed if we fall."

"We'll be killed for certain if we stay," Lylie pointed out. The door shuddered under the force of the blows as if to prove her point. Lylie held out her hand for Kimera to follow. "Come on. You can hold on to me."

"I know I'll fall," Kimera said, frightened. "You know how clumsy I am."

"I also know how clumsy I'm not," Lylie argued. "Just grab on to my hand. I won't let you fall, I promise."

Kimera's hand shook as she reached for Lylie. The dancer was already shuffling to the right, so she could no longer be seen unless one leaned out of the window. Kimera placed a hesitant foot on the ledge, and nearly slipped off.

"I can't do this," she whimpered.

"Yes, you can," Lylie assured her.

Kimera took a deep breath and put her other foot out. Soon she was standing entirely on the ledge, though she still had one hand inside the window to hold herself up. She looked out at her surroundings. She could see nearly the whole kingdom from up there. She could see the walls of the palace, the rows and rows of buildings and houses outside it, and finally the wall surrounding the entire city. Everything was gold and glowing against the sky. White birds were flying in the cloudless blue as though mimicking clouds. Kimera wished she had wings, so she wouldn't be in this situation at all.

"You have to come this way so they can't see you from inside," Lylie urged. "I've got your hand. Come on, just drag your feet, like this." She scuffed even further, forcing Kimera to extend her arm as far as it would go to keep their hands connected. "It's easy."

Kimera pursed her lips and did as Lylie did, though much more slowly. She went further and further until only her hand was visible from inside. However, she refused to remove her hand from where she still gripped the window.

"You have to let go of it," Lylie pressed. "If you don't, they will see us and kill us both. I have a sister, Kimera. I have to get back to her." She gave Kimera a pleading look. "Please, Mera, I know you can do this. Just trust me. Put your weight on your heels, and brace your hand against the wall. Let go of the window."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can!"

A light wind rustled over them both, causing Kimera to sway a bit. She barely moved, yet she felt as if she were seconds from being pushed over by the slightest breeze. "Lylie, I can't-"

"Yes, you can! Kimera, just let go!"

Before she could think herself out of it again, Kimera let go and clutched her hand to her chest briefly before putting it against the wall like Lylie said. She leaned on her heels since her toes were no longer on solid ground.

She did it in the nick of time. There was a crash from inside the tower as the door was knocked clean off its hinges, followed by the clatter and shattering of the contents of the cabinet.

"Where is she?" a voice wondered.

"She probably teleported away," the second one supposed.

"Can seers do that?"

"She's magic, isn't she?"

They seemed to be satisfied by that answer. Kimera listened as they, and whoever else was in the tower with them (there must have been at least fifteen people if she was judging by the constant clamor of footsteps), tried the salted water and spat it out instantly, then proceeded to rifle through every drawer and cabinet in search of anything valuable or drinkable. She heard bottles smashing, wood snapping, and fabric being ripped. She winced at the thought of all the medical equipment being trashed for no reason.

Lylie and Kimera stayed on the ledge with the wind and the birds until there was no more sound in the tower and the crowd was really and truly gone.

❂

Zar cradled Aslan in his arms and sank to his knees to follow Aslan to the floor. He used one hand to break off the end of the arrow, but he didn't dare pull it out for fear of Aslan bleeding to death. He pulled the servant up until his back rested in Zar's lap and he could hold Aslan's head in his arms like he was a small child.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, trying to ignore the feeling of Aslan's blood soaking his clothing. "You're going to be okay. Look at me."

Aslan's eyes were unfocused. He reached up a bit with his hands like he was trying to find Zar's face, but he didn't say a word and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

"You won't dodge this a second time, conjuror!" the old man who had shot Aslan huffed angrily, loading another arrow into his crossbow. "You can't magic yourself out of this one!"

Zar didn't give him the honor of a response. He felt red-hot anger gather in his fingertips and he barely even registered throwing up a hand and setting the man ablaze. He only realized he'd done it when he heard the screams. First they came from him; agonized, hoarse screams of pain. Then, from the crowd around them. His shrieking was drowned out in the mass hysteria of everyone in the vicinity scrambling to get as far away from Zar as they could.

The conjuror didn't care. He could feel flames rolling off him and tumbling along the floor like ripples in a lake. It was his magic's attempt to save him, it was a self destruct, the safest way that his emotions knew how to express themselves. People retreated, but not fast enough. Shoes and sandals were catching on fire, and skin was burning.

Zar didn't even look up to see it. He was focused on keeping Aslan warm, because he was shivering for some reason. It was so warm, but he was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He rubbed Aslan's shoulders and arms, still whispering. "Aslan, hey, look at me. Hey, shh. Look at me."

The hall was empty, but Zar didn't notice. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way to save Aslan. He tried a healing spell, and he felt the magic die in his hands like a fire that couldn't start. His soul didn't have enough kindling for him to use. He was too panicked, too rushed. He was out of time.

He kept opening and closing his palm, desperate, waiting for the spell to start itself, but nothing was happening. Aslan reached up weakly to hold Zar's hand with his own.

"Hey," the servant whispered meekly.

"Shh, don't talk," Zar said quickly. "Save your strength. Just stay alive, stay awake. I can fix this."

"No, you can't," Aslan replied calmly. "Zar, you can't."

"Yes," Zar argued, "I can. I won't allow you to die for me."

Aslan let out a broken, bloody laugh that sounded more like he was choking. "You always u-used to say that you wouldn't bat an eye i-if someone took an arrow for you."

Zar stopped trying to summon the spell and looked Aslan in the eyes. He was afraid, but he looked peaceful nonetheless. It was a serene fear, the fear of knowing a plunge was coming, but not being able to do anything about it, and resigning to one's fate. All that was left was to wait.

"I meant it," Zar said bitterly. "I meant it about everyone but you, Aslan. You can't die. You're so, so special to me. I don't know how you did it, but you snuck your way into my h-" he broke off, realizing what he had almost said. "I mean, Aslan, I don't know how you did it, but you broke me, and I'll never forgive you for it, but you cannot die. I forbid it. Please. I've never felt this way about anyone. Please don't leave me alone."

Aslan gave him a pained smile, something that obviously hurt, but he did it anyway. "You can say it, Zar."

"What? What- say what, Aslan? What are you talking about?"

"Here, I'll go first," Aslan breathed, "A-And you follow my lead. I love you, Zar."

"W-What?!" Zar cried. "I- What-"

He'd been trying to deny it, and up until then, it had been so easy. It had been easy to pass off his feelings as passive or foolish, or even just as friendly. It had been easy to tell himself that he was still a heartless, selfish jerk who only cared about himself. It had been easy to think that caring about people was for those who wanted to get hurt.

He was right about that last part, he supposed. Love and care was a package deal, he'd known it from the beginning. It came with pain. To love someone was to sign up to lose them. Zar hadn't been trying to sign up for anything. But he wasn't exactly given a choice in the matter.

Because, desert help him, he really, really did care about Aslan. It wasn't quite as easy to deny anymore. He didn't have the time to deny it anymore.

"I love you too," he said finally.

"I-I'm going to die here, Zar," Aslan wheezed. "I'm sorry. I have to leave you."

Zar's face was scrunching from the effort it took to hold back his tears. He felt the needles in the back of his throat and he felt the heat behind his eyes. "Aslan..."

"Make sure people knew I was thinking about them," Aslan said. "Tell Jasper and R-Rosalind and Kimera and everyone that I'll miss them." He coughed. "I'll really miss you, Zar."

"I'll miss you, too." Zar took a deep breath, not wanting Aslan to see him cry. He didn't want that to be the last thing Aslan ever saw. He wanted to smile for him, wanted to laugh. He couldn't find any joy or humor to draw them from.

"Please just hold me," Aslan said quietly.

And Zar held him, whispered in his ear, caressed his hair and kissed his forehead. He felt every gasp, every breath, every heartbeat... until he didn't anymore.

❂

Alkemena moved fast even though she had no idea where they were going. She and the one who'd been called Raven were supporting Jasper's arms on their shoulders while Rosalind hobbled in front of them, leading the way. Alkemena hadn't known the princess had a limp.

Jasper was moaning and whispering incoherent words under his breath. It sounded something like "It hurts, it hurts..." Alkemena didn't blame him. She'd never been bitten in the side by a tiger and she wasn't eager to let it happen anytime soon.

"Hey," she whispered to him, trying to ignore the sound of his boot toes scraping across the floor. He'd lost the collection to hold himself upright ages ago. "You're going to be okay, Jasper. Stay with me. We're almost out." She tried not to cringe at the use of his real name on her tongue. It felt unfamiliar and unnatural to say, but she knew it was most likely what he would respond to.

"The exit is this way," Rosalind said shakily, pointing to another twist in the tunnels. She'd led them through pathway after pathway, all underground, and Alkemena had a hard time believing she knew where she was going. Every tunnel looked the same.

However, the tunnel she started leading them down was clearly not empty. It was long and it curved, but they could hear the march of footsteps and the clamor of voices somewhere along the line.

"People are already coming in that way," Raven said.

"I can see that," Rosalind snapped. "Go back, quick. We can hide in the Oasis."

"The Underground Oasis?" Alkemena repeated. "There's no way out of there, and no drinkable water."

"Do you have a better idea?" Rosalind asked.

"Yeah," Alkemena said. "We get Jasper to a healer."

"And how do you suggest we do that."

Alkemena paused. "The Oasis it is."

Rosalind led them down another set of stairs, and Alkemena was beginning to recognize the ceramic walls as those she had seen on her first trip down here. Back when Jay had still been Jay and life had still been simply. Not easy. It had never been easy. But it had been simple. There were good guys and bad guys. Peasants and nobles. There were so many shades of gray now.

Rosalind pushed her, Jasper, and Raven past the first set of doors into the Oasis. The front chamber was its own room, separate from the Oasis, and Alkemena noticed the large doors were definitely not regular doors. She'd observed that they were rather bulky on her first trip, but now that she was looking, she saw chains and logs and complex locks were drilled into it throughout. These were siege doors, meant to keep out an army.

"These doors won't open for anybody until we open them," Rosalind said. "And even if by some higher power they do, there's a second set of locks in front of the actual Oasis. They're not as strong, but still, we'll be okay for a few days at least."

"Why do you have these down here and not, oh, I don't know, at the gates to the palace?" Alkemena asked as Rosalind began to heave them shut. They proved too heavy for her, so Raven helped Alkemena settle Jasper on his back and began to help her.

"A design flaw," Rosalind answered. "An artistic choice. The plot stone. I don't know!"

Once the doors were closed, she and Raven took to setting the locks and bolts in place. Those were just as heavy, if not more so. They huffed with closed eyes as they strained to do the work that was meant for trained soldiers.

Alkemena ignored them. She heaved Jasper over to a wall by the second set of doors and let him sit up. He coughed, and a few drops of blood started to drip down his chin.

"Hey," Alkemena said, crouching in front of him with her hands on his face. His side was still bound, but that didn't stop the blood from soaking through it and through his clothes, leaving a sickening trail of red on the floor like an arrow pointing right at him. "Stay awake, Jasper. I'm right here."

Her voice seemed to have enough of an impact on him to shake him back to consciousness. He still looked dizzy and slightly delirious, but his eyes stopped drifting around the room and landed on her. "Alkemena?"

"Yes!" she cried happily, relieved to see he was well enough to think and speak. "Yes, it's me. Stay awake, Jasper."

"I'm dreaming," he whispered. "She hates me. She wouldn't come back."

Alkemena felt her heart contract with guilt at the heartbroken feeling imbued in his voice. Her voice cracked as she said, "No, I'm here. Jasper, I am right here. I promise it's me. I came back."

"Wh... why?" he asked. "If it's really you, why would you come back?"

"I had to protect you," Alkemena explained. She chuckled a bit, not feeling humorous at all. "Desert knows you can't protect yourself. One day without me and you're bleeding out."

Jasper looked down at his side as if only just then realizing that he was losing blood at the speed of a leaking bucket. "Oh," he said.

"Jasper," Alkemena said, "I'm really sorry."

He looked back up at her, confused. "Whatever for?"

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Alkemena replied. "I shouldn't have run off. You trusted me with your identity finally, and I reacted in the worst way possible. I was angry because I thought you didn't care. That you were lying to me for some twisted, evil reason, but looking back, it doesn't make sense. I know who your are, Jasper. You're not the prince. You're a healer, you're generous, you're a good person and nothing like your father. I understand now why you lied. It was so, so wrong of me to get angry with you for something that was in no way your fault. I'm so sorry." She let her head hang, resigned to the fact that he probably didn't want to hear that from her. That he probably didn't want to hear anything from her ever again. "I imagine you'll probably want to yell at me now."

Jasper put his hand under her chin to raise her eyes to his again. He didn't have the strength to lean forward, so instead he pulled her face closer to his until he was kissing her.

Alkemena didn't question it. She knew he should be angry right back at her, she knew she deserved it, but she couldn't bring herself to care, because she loved him and he forgave her and that was all that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, Jasper seemed convinced.

"Alright," he ceded. "It's really you. You did come back." He smiled giddily, wincing through the pain. "Thank you."

❂

The Oasis was supposed to be a last resort.

It was supposed to be a place to hide the king in an invasion from an enemy. Not from Ailica's own people.

But the king was dead now. There was no more king to hide. Rosalind found herself thanking the desert for that.

She had the sudden thought of her mother, and where Yleke might be hiding, or if she was hiding at all. Her mother was tired. Would she welcome death? What would the mob do to her?

She and Raven breathed heavily as the last bolt slid into place on the heavy doors. Just in time, evidently. There was a knocking from the other side, not enough to even shake the door, but enough to be heard in the front chamber. It sounded like a woodpecker might from the perspective of ants in a tree.

"This is bad," Raven breathed. "They definitely know we're in here."

"They can't stay there forever," Rosalind replied breathily. "They'll leave to look for water or food or valuables. I doubt anything will be left in the castle by the end of today. Maybe a few cockroaches." She felt at her side where her sword was sheathed, grateful she'd taken it with her. That was one possession she wasn't eager to have stolen.

"They sure sound like that plan to," Raven noted as more banging joined the first person's. Soon the entire chamber sounded like one big drum.

"We don't have time for this," Rosalind muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Jasper needs a healer, and quickly. He needs blood, he needs water. He'll be dead before tomorrow if he doesn't get medical attention."

"This is so stupid," Raven agreed. "They're hell-bent on killing you, and for what? Because of your father? Because of your stupid blood?"

"Yep," Rosalind said. She threw up her hands theatrically. "The royal blood of the king or whatever-" She cut herself off suddenly, realizing what she'd come so close to saying. She looked at her own hands, beginning to draw a conclusion.

"What?" Raven asked, looking at her hands as well. He wasn't seeing anything. "What is it?"

"Blood of sand..." Rosalind was whispering. "The desert in his veins..."

"What does that mean?"

"My mother," Rosalind explained. "She used to tell me the legends of why our family was meant to rule. She read me poems about it. My favorite went like this: Blood of sand to grow the plants and bring about the rains, the king of Ailica stands strong, the desert in his veins. It meant that we were chosen to guide the people by destiny. The very sands of the desert were inside the king or queen, giving them the divine right to rule it."

Raven nodded as he started to catch on. "So that means..."

Rosalind slapped herself violently on the forehead. "The prophecy was calling for the king's blood!" she cried. "How could we have been so stupid? How could I have forgotten the rhymes?"

"What's happening?" Alkemena asked from the other side of the room. She stood up and walked over to Rosalind, leaving Jasper to gasp quietly for air where he lay. "Did you guys figure something out?"

"Rosalind just solved the puzzle," Raven said excitedly. "We know what the mystery liquid is!"

"The blood of the desert? You figured it out?"

"It didn't mean the lifeblood of the desert like Balthazar said," Rosalind clarified. "It meant blood made of desert, blood made of sand. Like the king's is rumored to be, or so say the stories. The liquid we were supposed to use was the king's blood."

"Well, you're going to have some trouble with that," Alkemena said, "Seeing as his blood is currently leaking into the sand as we speak. Either that or sitting in the stomach of a tiger. It's too late. There's no way to get enough of it to end the drought."

"So what now?" Raven wondered. "Does him being dead count as spilling his blood?"

"I doubt it," Rosalind said thoughtfully, biting her thumb. "There has to be a way to get some of his blood back."

"We could cut open a tiger," Alkemena suggested.

"We are not doing that," Raven said, adamant.

"Then what?" Alkemena demanded. "Will the drought just never end?"

"No," said Jasper from across the room. Everyone whirled around to look at him, unaware that he had been conscious enough to pick up on the conversation. "It will."

With that, he rolled past the second set of doors into the Oasis, and slammed them shut behind him.

❂

Ecthelion was a storm. He was a whirlwind of carefully timed blows aimed at the forehead or temple, leaving still-breathing bodies in his wake. He didn't know where the royal siblings were, but the king was dead. There was one member of the royal family left that he could protect. Yleke, the people's queen.

He was dashing up staircase after staircase, desperately trying to get to the queen before the mob did. They didn't know the castle like he did, and thanks to a shortcut through the siege tunnels he had a head start. Anyone who tried to stop him was quickly met with a blow to the brow, and went crumpling to the ground in seconds.

He crashed through the door to the queen's chambers, breathing heavily. Yleke sat before her dresser, absent-mindedly pulling her hair into a crown over her head.

"Your majesty," Ecthelion wheezed, "We have to get you out of here."

Yleke hummed, just noticing Ecthelion leaning against her door frame, gasping for breath. "What?"

"There's been an invasion. A coup. People are on their way here now, probably to kill you."

Yleke turned back to her mirror. "I know."

Ecthelion blinked. "And you don't want to... I don't know, run, maybe?"

"No," Yleke said calmly.

"Um. Why not?"

"We both know I deserve it," Yleke said. "I failed the people. It's only fair that they get their revenge."

"Your majesty," Ecthelion said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "You haven't failed anyone. Not yet. Listen to me. Your husband is dead. Your children are running."

At the mention of her children, Yleke dropped her hair pins and looked Ecthelion in the eyes, looking genuinely concerned. "Jasper and Rosalind? Are they alright?"

"I don't know," Ecthelion answered honestly. "But if they do survive this, they're going to need you. You have to live."

"What- What can we do?" Yleke asked.

A whizzing noise was the only Warning Ecthelion got, but he heard it just in time to pull the queen to the floor before an arrow buried itself in the back of her chair.

"We're out of time," Ecthelion declared as he slammed the door shut. He left it for a second to grab a post on the queen's bed and drag it in front of the door. It shook as if trying to open, and the bedlegs screeched as they almost slipped around on the stone floor. Thankfully, it held steady enough that the door didn't open when someone began to pound on it.

"The castle is overrun," Yleke whispered. "How do we get out? Where can we hide?"

Ecthelion scanned the room, his eyes landing on the window. "We go up. We can hide on the roof."

The both of them searched the room quickly for the materials they needed. Ecthelion ripped the rope right off the curtains and tested it. It seemed strong enough to work for his purposes. Yleke emerged from her closet with a metal sculpture that was shaped almost like a spiky tumbleweed.

"It's from my eccentric phase in which I collected art," she explained, diligently ignoring the shaking of the bed and the door. "I think it should make a good anchor."

Ecthelion took it in one hand and nearly fell over. Yep, it was definitely heavy enough to hold up the thin queen's weight.

He tied the rope around it and leaned out the window while Yleke pressed her weight against the bed to slide it back into place. The people outside were beginning to shout "Come out, Yleke! Queen! You must answer for your crimes! You must answer for the deaths of your people!"

Ecthelion gripped the rope in one hand and swung the sculpture with the other. It was heavy, but he was strong. The ride of the roof was only a few feet above the window. He hurled it up, the sculpture serving as both a weight and a grappling hook. It landed with a clank on the roof, and despite his tugging, it didn't fall back down.

"Your majesty," Ecthelion called. She walked over hesitantly, and he handed her the rope. "You know how to climb?"

"I'll manage," she said, taking it in both hands. "I'm going to see my children again."

She jumped out the window fearlessly and used the walls of the castle as leverage to pull herself up. Ecthelion was about to follow her, when he heard the hinges of the door break. The bed slid and scraped against the floor. Ecthelion looked up once more to see that the queen was already on the roof. She held out a hand for him.

"Hurry up!" she called.

"No time, your majesty," Ecthelion said, shaking his head apologetically. He didn't hesitate to draw his sword and cut the rope as high as he could reach before throwing the slack into the bushes so far below them. They were four stories above the ground at least, maybe more. Ecthelion didn't want to sacrifice his only means of escape from the room, but he'd known what he'd signed up for when he became a royal guard. He had volunteered to protect people, even if it meant protecting them with his life.

He put his back to the wall as the bed finally gave way and the door burst open, falling to the ground. The person who entered was skinny, wrinkled, and old, which was probably why it had taken him so long to break down the door. He held a shabby crossbow in his trembling hands, and aimed it around the room as he charged in.

Ecthelion leapt from behind him, hitting him in the base of the skull with the hilt of his sword. The old man crumpled like paper.

Unfortunately, the old man wasn't the only one behind the door. Other people marched in after him, more than Ecthelion could count. They swarmed him like bees, each wielding daggers or arrows like stingers. Ecthelion fought to throw them off, but by the desert, there were so many.

He was wearing armor, but soon blades were finding their way under his skin. When he felt a stab in his thigh, Ecthelion stopped fighting to knock out and started fighting to kill. He was willing to die to defend the queen, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He wanted to see his friends again. He wanted to apologize to Lylie and he wanted to play dice with Kimera and he wanted to tell the twins he was proud of them. He wanted to tell Emlin he thought she was amazing, and that he thought she was probably one of the best things that happened to him. He wanted to see his family. Daragon was still learning to be a man, and Ecthelion wanted to show him how. Elonomira was so young. She might not even remember his face if he died here.

So he fought. His sword went in and out through the rib cages and sternums of his attackers, but it wasn't enough. He fought and he fought, but when the dagger of a young girl found its way past his shoulder pads and into the place where his neck met his shoulder, his fate was sealed.

He went down thinking of his family, his blood thick with all memories he had of them. The mob never got to the queen. In anger, they threw Ecthelion's body out the window and cheered as he fell. His spine was shattered when he landed on his back.

He died looking up at the sun.

❂

"Jasper, what are you doing?"

He could hear his sister's voice getting shakier by the minute. But Jasper wasn't delirious anymore. He'd gotten his wits back about him, and he had heard what they said. The king's blood. He knew where they could get that.

The doors to the Oasis itself were far less secure than the ones protecting the others, but they would keep Raven, Rosalind, and Alkemena out of the Oasis for long enough.

"I'm sorry, Rosalind," Jasper called through the thick wood, pressing a hand to his side and gritting his teeth. He was trying to keep what blood he had left inside his body.

"Jasper, get back out here," Rosalind ordered. "Open this door right now."

"Jasper!" That was Alkemena. Oh, this was going to be so much harder with her here. "Jasper, please, you don't have to do whatever it is you're thinking. Please come back out. You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do," he replied. "I have to. And you have to let me. Please let me, Alkemena, Rosalind."

"Raven, help me break this down!" he heard Rosalind say. A loud thud must have been the sound of Raven bashing his shoulder against the door. Of course, Raven's shoulder would break long before that door ever did.

"Jay, please come back out," Alkemena said again. He noticed her use of his fake name; his preferred name. He would always prefer it when she said it. "Please. Why do you have to do this?"

"I'm a healer Alkemena," he said. "I always have been. Now, I have the opportunity to heal the entire kingdom. Let me take it."

"No!" he heard Rosalind shout. "Jasper, come out and we can talk about this! We can find some other way that doesn't involve you dying!"

"I'm going to die either way," Jasper told her. "I've lost too much blood, sis. I have to use what I have left to save everyone. To save you."

"I don't want you to save me!" Alkemena cried, her voice wild. Jasper was so glad he couldn't see her face right now. He pictured her, tearstained, crying for him not to do this. If he could see her, he might be tempted to listen. "Jay, I don't want to be saved! Not like this! We will figure out another way-"

Another bang on the door and a yelp of pain. Raven had probably dislocated his shoulder.

"Please, guys," Jasper said. "Rosalind. I love you. You were the best goddamn sister I could have ever had. You need to know that. I'm so grateful for you. I'm so lucky to have had you."

"Don't you dare start with goodbyes!" Rosalind screeched. "We're getting you out of there!"

"Alkemena," Jasper continued. "By the desert, I love you so much. I'm so glad I got to see you before the end."

"This is not the end!" Rosalind shouted determinedly. He could hear the sounds of Alkemena sobbing over Rosalind's pounding on the door.

"I knew I was going to die today," Jasper said. He was surprised that he wasn't crying. Maybe there just wasn't enough fluid left in his body to produce tears, but still... he felt oddly calm. Content, even. "I'm just glad it gets to be this way. I'm glad it's on my terms. Rosalind, Alkemena, I love you so much. I love all of you. I love all of Ailica in some way or another. Let me do this for you. I love you. Goodbye."

He tried to tune out the rest of their cries, but he could hear them through the veil he put up against them. Rosalind was still demanding he open the door, that he get back out there and try to live. Alkemena was calling his name, desperate, crying. He was so glad he couldn't see them. The pain that must have been in their eyes would have been enough to convince him.

He held a bloodied hand over the pool of the Oasis. He might have been wearing a red glove for how thick the blood was. Drops fell from the tips of his fingers, and hit the surface of the water in an explosion of golden light. Each droplet glowed like a second sun, and the beams reflected off the mirrors all around Jasper, lighting up the entire chamber.

Jasper didn't take the time to think this through. He knew that he'd find some way to talk himself out of it. But he would not be talked out of it, not by himself or by Rosalind or Alkemena or anyone.

He ripped the binding off his side and grunted in pain as he felt it peel away from his wound. He felt every fiber rip itself off like it had been a part of his skin. When he dropped it into the pool, it lit up so brightly he had to squint.

Jasper knelt, first, then turned onto his back and lay down in the water. The light was so bright he had to close his eyes. He could still see it, through his eyelids, in his soul. He sensed his blood seeping out of him and mixing with the water. He expected it to sting, but he couldn't feel a thing. He had gone numb. The light was blinding him. Everything was going white.

Over Rosalind's screaming and Alkemena's sobbing, he thought he could hear the rain.

Word Count: 19,709

Character Appearances:

Kimera Relicem by me

Lylie Jasmal by eli-z-le

Ecthelion Finweson by WingedWarrior1731

Raven Blackthorn by ghostofwolves

Balthazar Evander by Cynarr

Aslan by dr0wning_in_w0rds

Jasper Vastatio by EstelElfstone

Rosalind Vastatio by sofififlowers

Alkemena Irving by TheShortBosmer

Also Featuring Appearances From:

Ariel Seghal by Avengers14

Abracius Senakhterne by SincerelyLoki (mentioned)

Emlin "The Cat" by dobblewolf (mentioned)