Pressing through a gap in the tree line, I stumble into a clearing. The rain comes down thicker, but there’s more light, too. The unveiled stars to the west offer me my first view of Revel. A single fist of stone has punched up through the ground at the far end of the clearing. The Ashlord has wisely put his back to it. His eyes tighten as I stride into the clearing, but he doesn’t look afraid. His kind never learn fear.
It is hard to learn fear when you’re always looking down.
“Longhand,” Revel calls. “You look well.”
He makes his voice louder than necessary. Even with the steady rain and occasional crackle of thunder, it is a voice that will be heard. His goal is clear. He wants Bravos to come.
I almost laugh. “Do you really believe Bravos will help you? We both know how you ride. If anyone is a threat to burn their way through the final leg and steal the crown, it’s you.”
“We are Ashlords,” Revel calls back. “And you are not. It is that simple.”
His words hang above us, bright as lightning. I pause in the middle of the clearing. The two of us stare at one another until snapped branches announce the arrival of the current leader. Bravos edges into the clearing. He takes our measure in less than a breath. It has him grinning.
“So it comes down to the three of us,” he says.
“And if it should come down to that,” Revel replies, “an Ashlord should win, Bravos. The two of us have ridden well. Let’s ride again tomorrow. One final ride for glory.” His eyes fix on me. “We can put down the Longhand together. He grows too bold.”
Bravos considers the offer. His eyes roam back to me. It will not be Ashlord unity that sways him, though. Bravos is—first and foremost—a gladiator. He’s weighing his chances in a fight. Can he defeat me without Revel? His assessment is quick and honest. He shifts his stance until he’s facing me fully, then backpedals toward Revel.
“One final ride,” Bravos agrees. “The crown goes to an Ashlord.”
Revel is nodding, but he’s a bigger fool than I thought if he believes those words. Bravos will use his help to put me down. And then he’ll turn on Revel. His two biggest threats left weak and wounded, their ashes poisoned. Bravos smiles and I know he’s made the same calculations I have. The Races are in his grasp now.
The two of them lower their voices. An exchange of whispers. As one, they shift their stances and start forward. I hold my ground, mind racing. Do I escape into the forest? There’s still a chance they won’t find my ashes, but Bravos is a lot stronger than anyone I’ve fought so far. The Dread’s protection is gone. If I lose this fight, they’ll leave me so broken that gaining ground on the last day will be impossible. I’m trying to calculate the best way to get distance between myself and them when Revel transforms his shield into a baton.
He’s walking a step behind Bravos.
Which is why Bravos doesn’t see the blow coming. Revel brings his switch around in a flawless arc. The wooden baton cracks into the side of the bigger Ashlord’s temple. Lightning punctuates the unexpected blow. Bravos’s body hits the ground and the pursuing thunder rings out as if his fall caused the noise. Revel and I lock eyes through the rain.
“You have two options, Longhand. First, stay and fight. I’m not as strong as you, but I promise I can make this a long night. Or you can go find his ashes and poison them. There’s no way Bravos will recover from that. It’ll be you and me going into the final ride.”
I can’t help smiling. “Option three. I fight you, poison your ashes, then poison his.”
He looks unsurprised by this turn. As I start forward, he backpedals gracefully toward his ashes. His voice is tight as he throws out a command. “Stop him.”
I frown at the words and keep walking. Revel repeats his command and I’m about to point out that no one else is here to stop me when a flash of blue light cuts through the dark.
Not lightning. Not anything I’ve ever seen before. I shield my eyes as something hits me in the chest. I stumble back a few steps, baton raised, a little blinded by the flash. Darkness returns and Revel’s standing there with a grim look on his face.
“I told you,” he says. “I can make this a very long night for you.”
I press forward again and the blue light flashes in answer. This time I see the sharp outline of a face. Not a random force then, a creature. The spirit shoves me backward before vanishing. What the hell? I circle now. Revel’s eyes never leave mine. Each time I press closer, though, the blue light flashes protectively forward to stop my progress. It finally dawns on me.
“Your gods. They’re intervening for you.”
Revel smiles. “Are you surprised? We are the favored ones, Longhand.”
“And what are you without them?” I shake my head. “This protection will fade. I hope you fear that day as much as I look forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow. One final burn.”
Eyes still fixed on him, I begin backpedaling out of the clearing. Revel hasn’t looked afraid this entire time, but now he looks surprised. He takes a step forward and gestures to Bravos. “But what about his ashes? We have to poison them.”
“And you thought I’d poison them for you?” I’ve reached the edge of the tree line. “While you went searching for my ashes? It is a wonder the gods choose to protect such fools. No, I think I’ll leave the task to you. Better hope he doesn’t wake up while you search.”
Revel finally sees the mess that he’s in. He took a blind shot at one of his people’s most famous and feared gladiators. Bravos will wake up eventually, and he’ll come for Revel when he does. I offer one final wave before slipping back into the cover of the forest. Overhead, the rain has slowed to a trickle. It’s quiet enough that I can just barely hear Revel’s next command.
“Move him. Now.”
I glance back and catch another blue flash through the canopy. Invisible hands lift Bravos up and start dragging him through the mud. It’s an unsettling sight. I forge onward, eager to get the hell away. I would not risk the attention of their gods again tonight.
The gods.
I do not trust the Dread, but I do take him up on his warning toward caution. As I move back through the forest, I double cross my own trails, hoping to throw off any attempts at following me back to my ashes. It takes more time but I still reach my ashes long before sunrise. The rain has cleared. I sit down, feeling soaked and tired, but can’t help grinning like a fool.
Bravos will struggle tomorrow. His lead will fade. Revel has me by a few hundred paces. There is Pippa, looming like a shadow, but I find myself unafraid. The Ashlords are not superior to us. They’re not faster or stronger or wise. All they have that we do not is the gods.