There was a brief lull around us, a few seconds where no one was throwing themselves at our throats, so we arranged ourselves in a loose circle. Davin helped Stacey back onto her horse and was turning to help me when someone came barreling toward me, screaming.

Davin stumbled back in surprise and I whipped up my blade just as a long, thin rapier crashed down onto it, inches from my nose. The woman in front of me had her long blonde hair braided into twin plaits that hung over her shoulders. Her hair was messy and coming out of the braids and her helmet was gone. Her face was smudged with dirt and tear stained. It was Amy.

“Traitor!” She screamed at me, “filthy traitor!”

I ground my teeth and shoved back on her blade, forcing her to back up a step, “Amy, calm down!”

“The Queen gave you everything, you ungrateful little bitch!” She swung at me again, but she was sloppy and uncoordinated, swinging the sword like a baseball bat. I blocked it easily and shoved her back again, “Back off, Amy! I don’t want to kill you…”

“I’ll kill you,” she shrieked hysterically. Her eyes were too wide, and she was panting frantically, nearly frothing at the mouth. Had she snapped under the pressure of battle?

“Where’s Alicia?” I pushed her away again, desperate to distract her. I didn’t want to have to kill her, but obviously she was bent on killing me.

Amy’s next blow was wildly off, her face crumpled, “she’s dead. Your fire soldiers killed her.”

It felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. I could see Amy’s sword swinging for my head, but I couldn’t seem to find the strength to bring the katana up. It suddenly seemed to weigh a thousand pounds in my hands. I jumped as another blade swung in front of my face, meeting Amy’s and creating sparks directly in front of my eyes.

Davin was leaning across me, blocking Amy’s sword, his face screwed up with the effort. Amy shrieked angrily, yanked her sword back and dove towards Davin. It was like she’d gone insane, Davin’s eyes actually widened with alarm as Amy stomped forward slashing at him. The unexpected fury of her attack must have caught him off guard, because Amy’s sword slid off his and sliced into his shoulder. He jumped back with a howl of pain, and his arm swung uselessly, the sword clattering to the ground. It seemed like the blood came out of nowhere, floods of it. The scarlette patch spread over the fabric of his tunic and turned his sleeve red. She’d opened up a huge gash in his arm just below the chainmail shirt. The edges of his flesh had parted cleanly, and I felt sick when I saw the muscles and tendons beneath. When he turned slightly I could see the white gleam of bone through the blood. My stomach turned in protest.

Amy shrieked again, launching herself at Davin, face twisted in mindless fury. My feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. She was going to kill him.

A shape barreled past me, Charlotte, screaming angrily, sword outstretched as she ran. Amy’s head was down when she charged at Davin, and she didn’t even seem to notice as the tip of Charlotte’s blade pierced the rings of her chainmail and sunk deep into her chest. She staggered forward a few more steps, sword still above her head, still about to strike at Davin. Then she stopped and looked down at the handle jutting out of her leather tunic, and the confused, tormented look on her face was heartbreaking.

Amy fell backwards, landing clumsily on her back, and her sword tumbled out of her hand and onto the grass. Her head tipped back, and she stared up at the sky.

“Amy!” I stepped forward, torn between relief and sadness, “Amy…”

She turned her head slightly, glanced down at the sword in her chest and then up again, her words seemed to be forced when she finally spoke, like they were difficult to drag out, “Megan…” Her breath wheezed, rattling in her chest.

Tears were prickling, and I crouched down and took her hand. Around me, Becca, Margaret and Stacey were pushing attacking soldiers back. Charlotte had run to Davin and was trying to stop the flow of blood. All I could see was Amy’s face though, how pale it was, how bright the spot of blood on the edge of her mouth was against her skin, how her blonde hair framed her face like a halo.

“Megan,” she wheezed again.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. It was all I could get out.

“I just…I just wanted…” her eyes flicked back up to the sky.

“What…what did you want?” I tried to blink back the tears. I didn’t want any of them to fall on her face. Didn’t want her to know I was crying.

“The sky is so blue,” she murmured, and then her grip on my hand relaxed, and her eyes were blank and staring. Ever staring. Looking up at the vast blue sky above her.

I shook my head, and my voice was croaky and quiet, drowned out by the sound of the battle around me, the frenzy that continued even though Amy was dead, “No, Amy. You aren’t supposed to be dead…you’re my age…you still have to go back and finish school…” it felt like something was choking me, I couldn’t get any more words out. Part of me wanted to reach down and shake her, to wake her up. She wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but how could she be dead? How could Alicia be dead? They’d just been alive, I’d just seen them a few weeks ago. They weren’t faceless frost soldiers, I knew them.

“Amy?” I croaked, but she didn’t move. Didn’t breath. She just stared upwards with empty eyes, “oh God, oh God…” it was half a prayer.

“Megan!” Charlotte’s voice, sharp and invasive. It snapped me out of my stupor, “help me with him!”

Davin was leaning forward, nearly knocking my tiny friend off her feet. His face was dangerously pale, and the blood was still running in rivets down his arm.

“Shit,” I muttered, desperately looking around for something to staunch the blood with. My eyes fell on Amy’s leather tunic, and I groaned. This was battle though, it had to be done. Carefully I sat her up and stripped the leather jacket off her torso, laying her back down gently, folding her arms across her chest so that she lay as peacefully amidst the frenzy as if she were sleeping.

“Set him down and wrap this around the wound,” I threw the jacket at Charlotte and turned to meet an attacking soldier, blocking a clumsy swing, shouting back at my friend, “then get him off this field and to the medic!”

I ground my teeth as I blocked another heavy blow, then ran my sword through him the first chance I got. There was no twinge of remorse this time, no churning gut. I was beginning to feel numb now. I turned back to yell at Charlotte, and my eyes traveled past her, to a tall figure hurtling through the chaos towards us. My body froze, and dread shot through me to my very fingertips.

Lief was smashing his way through  the army, not even bothering to check if he was knocking down his own soldiers. His face was set in ugly determination, and he had his broad sword in one hand and another on his back. He was heading straight for me.

When I locked eyes with him it sent chills through me. His mouth curled up in a snarl. There was no doubt about it, he was on a mission, and the mission was me. I braced myself as he got nearer. This was not going to be pleasant.

Charlotte had set Davin down and was tying the leather tunic around his shoulder, making sure it was tight enough to stop the blood. She stood up just as Lief hurtled past Becca, shoving her out of the way. It was like everything happened in slow motion, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

It happened in seconds. Charlotte turned to say something to me, her lips were forming the words. I saw Lief’s face change as she stepped into his path, morphing from angry determination to disgust, and he lifted his sword.

I stepped forward, a scream of warning leaving my lips just as he charged into her, the tip of his sword vanishing into her back. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her as Charlotte’s face turned white, and her mouth dropped open in surprise.  The sword was suddenly jutting out the front of her leather tunic, like the deadly fin of a shark. It was unnatural and horrifying. Then it was gone, and Charlotte stayed standing for less than a second before she pitched backwards, landing on her back with a startled grunt. Her blue eyes were huge, and a small, strangled whimper escaped her lips.

Someone must have punched me in the stomach, that’s what it felt like. My breath left my body and my chest felt constricted, like there was a thousand pounds crushing me. I felt dizzy.

Lief was just standing there grinning at me in triumph. He was happy.

“Charlotte!” The scream was ripped from me, but I still couldn’t move.

Then Lief shrugged, turned his head and spat. The gob of spit arched forward and landed on Charlotte’s right arm, “filthy half-blood.”

My scream was more savage this time, more animal than human, and I hurtled forward, throwing myself at him. I would kill him, I wouldn’t be happy until I had his blood on my hands. I barreled into him, and we fell backwards, our limbs tangled. He shouted with surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting me to attack. Lief went over backwards and I heard the sharp crack as his head hit a rock jutting up from the field. I was on top of him now, straddling his chest, the edge of my katana pressed to his throat.

Lief groaned and his eyes fluttered. For a moment it looked like he was going to pass out. There was blood on his temple. Too bad he’d been too cocky to wear a helmet. Then his eyes opened and focused on me, “You wouldn’t kill me now, would you?” his voice was hoarse in his throat, but still I could hear the distain in it, “Amora is too righteous, too wonderful and kind to kill an unarmed man.”

I flipped my sword around and pressed the tip of it to his neck. I leaned down and hissed in his face, “Lucky I’m not Amora.”

Then I shut my eyes tight and pressed the blade down with all my might.