Page 108 of Eyes of Kings

She turns around to find Anton catching his breath. He has taken a step away at last, his arms loose at his sides. The crown was flung onto the ground beside him. Its ridges flash gold, catching the faint lights of the twin cities. After the tumult of the battle, nothing feels real anymore. Calla is only staring at illusions. Movement, flashing behind Anton.

Calla blinks. Not an illusion. It’s Galipei. His arm held steady. His sword, as sharp as his charge.

“No!” she screams.

CHAPTER 51

Searing cold, cutting into his back. Anton doesn’t understand the sensation. Not at first. Not until he glances down. Sees the sword, long enough to protrude from his front, through his ribs.

He hopes there might be a chance he is mistaken.

Then the blade withdraws. Exits the very way it entered, snagging and tearing. Blood wells at the wound. Pours between his fingers when he goes to touch the site.

He falls to his knees. Calla skids before him with a shout, frantic to help him put pressure on the wound. But it is no mere puncture. However fast the blood is flowing at his chest, it is twice as fast from his back.

“Anton,” Calla hisses. “Jump. You have to jumpnow.”

He tries. He does try.

A part of him is already aware of the result, even before he reaches into his qi and finds nothing. Before he struggles through a ragged breath, his lungs utterly cold.

“I can’t,” he says softly.

“What do you meanyou can’t?” Calla demands. “Jump into me. I’ll let you. Come on.”

Anton loses feeling in his legs. Calla moves to catch him when he keels over. She slides her arm around his shoulders, but he barely feels it. He identifies theshape at his side as Galipei Weisanna. Holding a sword slick with blood. Using the sword to lift the divine crown from the rubble.

“It’s over, Calla,” Galipei says.

“Jump,” Calla says to Anton, ignoring Galipei. “Jumpanywhere. Toanyone.”

But he offered everything while she was fighting Sinoa. His palm on her skin, volunteering all he possessed, every little bit of qi that his father of the heavens had gifted him upon birth. His teeth are chattering.

“I knew it was you,” he whispers. “On the battlefield. It took me a second to figure it out. But I did. I felt it.”

Calla shakes her head. Her bloodied palm grazes his cheek. She smooths his hair back. “Anton. Stop.Stop—”

“I told you I would recognize you in any body. Our next turn will be better. When our qi rushes back into the ether and spins into new bodies, I will find you there. I know how, now.”

When Calla twines her fingers with his, her grip is fierce. It is at odds with her yellow eyes, subdued after her exertion.

“Don’t youdare,” she whispers. “What am I to do until then? Tolerate a dull world, caught forever in a cycle between royals and brutes? I will not stay without you.”

He wishes he’d spent more time with Buira. That they could have had more afternoons to sit and talk over tea, more nights over a card game where he cheats at his hand and she accuses him because he has a tell. He wishes he’d taken Calla to Kelitu earlier. There could have been a different reality, then, one where they fled and stayed put. But it is not this run, because they were long upon another path, because that is not them.

Calla leans down. Her lips are tender. A gentle brush against his.

“You will stay,” Anton returns, “long enough to end it.”

His hand loosens.

CHAPTER 52

Calla’s scream could have torn the kingdom in two.

CHAPTER 53

But because she chose this mortal body, it does not. The field quiets. The twin cities rustle beneath her. She stays over Anton, her breath shuddering. Without the crown, she possesses no power. Without sigils, she can obtain no new power. The vessel of her other form lies a few paces away, but Calla does not consider wearing it, not for a second. She is Calla Tuoleimi. Princess of Er. The last rightful king of Talin, descended from the line of Akilas and Potau, who won their war with glory from their gods.