Zadie walked to Titania as our group began to move forward. But before she could mount, Ceren approached her. While she fumbled with the stirrup, he reached for her wounded arm and the cloth covering her skin.

My stomach sank. We had known this was a possibility, but we had hoped Zadie would mount and leave fast enough. My gaze flickered between the Varenians moving far too slowly across the field and Zadie struggling in Ceren’s grasp. Grig shifted in his seat. From the corner of my eye, I saw a soldier lift the red flag that was the signal for Talin and his troops to attack.

Ceren released Zadie, and I thought we might have pulled it off.

But then his eyes flicked to us, and I knew something was wrong. I dug my heels into my mare’s sides and galloped forward while Titania raced toward us, Zadie clinging to her mane. Ceren wasn’t chasing her, thank Thalos.

Instead, he turned to face the Varenians. I scanned the horizon for some sign of Talin’s troops, but I saw nothing in the camp. And then I watched in horror as red jewels began to pulsate on every single Varenian neck.

“What’s happening?” I shrieked as Zadie and I reached each other.

“It’s a trap,” Zadie breathed, dismounting from Titania just before I leaped from my mare into Titania’s saddle.

“I can see that! Are you hurt? How is your arm?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Where are Talin and his men? Shouldn’t they be here?”

I looked across the field, where the Varenians stood in even rows, knives and other makeshift weapons in their hands, waiting for Ceren’s command. Grig and his men had pulled up their horses and circled back to us as soon as they realized what was happening.

Where was Talin? He should have arrived by now. What if Ceren had spotted them and they’d already been defeated? What if Ceren had seen through all our plans and beaten us at our own game?

“I’m so sorry, Nor,” Zadie said. “I wanted to help, and I’ve only gone and made things worse.”

“You’re wrong, Zadie. Ceren was planning this regardless of which one of us came.”

Grig and his men had clustered around us. “We should retreat to Old Castle. We can’t defeat that many people, regardless of their lack of training.”

The thought of even trying to fight people I’d known my whole life, including small children, was horrifying. I was about to turn Titania back toward the castle when I saw one of the Varenians step forward from the others.

He walked to Ceren and knelt down. I couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he was fair-haired. Not Father or Kristos. As we watched, Ceren pulled out a blade and ran it across the kneeling man’s throat. He collapsed onto the field without any sign of struggle. Zadie screamed, but I was frozen with fear. The other Varenians hadn’t even moved.

Ceren turned to look at me then, and I felt something horrible pass between us, something I had no control over. He wanted me to know what he was capable of, that this wasn’t a game. I clutched at my head, wishing I could tear him free of it.

Suddenly, a rider burst out of the trees behind us. For a moment, I was afraid Ceren had planned an ambush, but I recognized the horse immediately as Xander. What was Talin doing behind us?

He reached us quickly, pulling Xander up alongside Titania.

“What happened?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you attack?”

“I’m sorry, Nor. We watched in the early morning hours as Ceren brought out the Varenians from the bottom of the mountain and led them into the tents. But when we saw they were wearing the bloodstones, we knew that if we attacked, Ceren could order them to do anything. We sent a scout to warn you, but I’m assuming he was intercepted.”

While Talin spoke, Ceren had called another Varenian forward, this one a woman.

Zadie gasped. “Thalos, is that—”

“Phaedra,” I said, recognizing her by the bright red, curly hair that went down to her waist.

“No!” I screamed as Ceren once again lifted his blade, slashing her throat. I had despised Phaedra for what she did to my family, but she was a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. She meant something to the people in her life, and she didn’t deserve to die this way. No one did.

Zadie moaned and turned away. “I can’t watch. Someone has to do something.”

Talin looked up at me, despair in his eyes. “If I send my men in to attack, we could lose all of the Varenians.”

I nodded, a numbness washing over me at the realization of what I had to do. There was only one thing that was going to make Ceren stop this madness.

Talin must have seen the resolve in my face. “Wait, no. Nor, that’s not what I meant.” He tried to reach for me, but I had already moved out of his grasp.

“Nor!” Zadie cried, her voice full of anguish.

I glanced at Ceren. This time, the man kneeling in front of him had bronze skin, dark hair, and a noble forehead. Father.

“I’m so sorry,” I said to Zadie, to Talin, to myself. I had sworn I would never again be a prisoner, that I wouldn’t go back to New Castle if my life depended on it. But Ceren was right. Love was my weakness, and I could not stand by and watch my father die. I gripped the reins and squeezed Titania with my heels, and she broke into a full gallop, the protests of Talin and Zadie lost in the rush of blood in my ears.

“Ceren!” I screamed, but he was already looking at me. The knife was still raised to my father’s throat.

Titania flew across the field like an arrow, and within what felt like a handful of heartbeats, I was pulling her to a halt in front of Ceren. My father didn’t register my presence, but Ceren had at least moved the knife away from his throat. I tried not to look at Phaedra and the blond man, who lay in pools of their own blood.

“I’m here. You got what you wanted.” My hair had come loose as I rode across the field, but I was grateful for the armor. It made me feel less vulnerable. “Let them go.”

Ceren glared up at me. “Why should I? You lied to me, Nor. Though I must admit, I never expected you to put your precious sister in harm’s way.” He tapped his chin with the tip of the knife. “The elders were right, you know. She is prettier than you.”

“Enough!” I screamed, grateful that my voice wasn’t as weak as I felt. “Let them go, or so help me I’ll cut my own throat, and you’ll never get a drop of my blood again.” I raised my sword and pressed it to the skin at my neck until I felt the bite of steel.

“Oh, very well,” he said. “No need to be so dramatic. I’ll let them go. But none of this ‘one bowl of blood’ nonsense. You’ll come with me to New Castle and remain there as long as I have need of you.”