Their breath turned to fog in the cold air of Brigan's office. "It's a trick," Brigan said, "or a trap. I don't believe Mydogg would ever agree to a compromise. Nor do I believe he cares how many people die."

"He knows that we match him in numbers now," Nash said. "And far exceed him in horses, which finally matters, now that it's water on the rocks instead of ice and snow."

One of the captains, small and terse and trying not to shiver, crossed his arms. "And he knows the mental advantage our soldiers will have with their commander and their king leading them into battle together."

Brigan rubbed his hair frustratedly. "For the first time, he sees that he's going to lose. So he's setting some sort of trap, and calling it compromise."

"Yes," Nash said. "The meeting is a trap. But what are we to do, Brigan? You know what the cost of this battle will be, and our enemy claims to put forth an alternative. Are we to refuse to consider it?"

The meeting took place on the plain of rock that stretched between both camps. The sun rose on Lord Mydogg, Lady Murgda's Pikkian husband, Brigan, and Nash, making long shadows that shifted in a gloss of water. Some distance behind Mydogg and his brother-in-law a small guard of bowmen stood at attention, arrows drawn and notched. Behind Brigan and Nash a guard of bowmen did the same, the symmetry disturbed by Fire's presence, with six of her own guard, in a group behind Brigan's. Mydogg, the brother-in-law, Brigan, and Nash stood close together. This was intentional. Each was protected from his enemy's bowmen by his enemy.

Fire reached an arm to Musa on one side and Neel on the other, for she was concentrating so fiercely that she didn't trust the balance of her feet. She didn't know what Mydogg was planning; she couldn't find it in Mydogg or any of his men. But she could feel, as certain as fingers wound tight around her throat, that things on this plain of rock were not as they should be.

She was too far back to hear Brigan's quiet voice, but Brigan sent her every word. "All right," he said. "You've got us out here. What do you want?"

Behind Fire, too far for Mydogg to see but not too far for Fire to feel, the King's Army stood mounted in position, ready to strike at the slightest message from Fire. The horses of the commander and the king were with them.

"I'd like to make a deal," Mydogg said, his voice high and clear. His mind tough and impenetrable. He shifted slightly, intentionally, catching sight of Fire through the barrier of guards. His eyes narrowed on her shrewdly. Impressed and unimpressed together, and in those hard eyes, Fire could read nothing of why they were here.

Behind Lord Mydogg, too distant for Brigan to see, but definitely not too distant for Fire to feel and communicate to Brigan, Mydogg's army also stood ready. Lady Murgda at the head of it, which was to Fire's quiet astonishment. Fire didn't know how pregnant Murgda had been on the day of the January gala, but assuredly she was three more months pregnant now.

"Well then," Brigan said, "what deal? Out with it."

Mydogg's steel eyes cut again to Fire. "Give us the monster," he said, "and we'll surrender our position."

It's a lie, Fire thought to Brigan. He's made it up this moment. He wants me – certainly he'd take me if you offered – but it's not why we're here.

Then why are we here? Can you sense anything unusual in the position of his army? What about the guard standing behind him?

Fire gripped Musa harder with her half-dead hand and leaned more heavily on Neel. I don't know. His army seems prepared for a straightforward attack. But I can't get into Murgda's head, so I can't know for sure. His guard has no intention to strike unless you or Nash make a move. I can't find what's wrong here, Brigan, but, oh, something is wrong. I feel it. Put an end to this before we learn what it is.

"No deal," Brigan said. "The lady is not a bargaining piece. Tell your archers to stand down. This meeting is over."

Mydogg raised his eyebrows sleekly and nodded. "Stand down," he called to his guard of archers, and as Mydogg's archers disengaged, Fire's body clamoured with panic to find all of them so accommodating. Something was so terribly wrong here. Brigan put his hand out sideways, the signal for his own archers to disengage; and suddenly, Fire screamed with an anguish that tore through her but that she didn't know the reason for. Her cry rang out, eerie and solitary, and one of Brigan's archers shot an arrow into Nash's back.

Pandemonium. The traitorous archer was struck down by his companions, and his second arrow, surely meant for Brigan, flew wide, striking one of Mydogg's guards. Brigan spun fiercely between Mydogg and the brother-in-law, the blade of his sword on fire with morning light. Arrows soared in all directions. Mydogg and his brother-in-law lay dead on the ground. And then the King's Army came roaring onto the scene, for without meaning to, Fire had called them.

In the bedlam everything finally became clear, focused on a single pinprick of purpose. Fire dropped and crawled across rock to the place where Nash lay on his side, dying, it seemed, for the arrow was lodged deep and true. She lay next to him. She touched his face with her broken hand. Nash. You will not die. I won't allow it. Do you hear me? Do you see me?

His black eyes stared, conscious, but barely, and only barely did he see her. Brigan tumbled down beside them, clutching Nash's hair, kissing Nash's forehead, gasping with tears. Healers in green appeared and knelt at Nash's back.

Fire grasped Brigan's shoulder and looked into his face, his eyes blank with shock and grief. She shook him, until he saw her. Go now and fight this battle. Brigan. Go now. We need to win the war.

He surged up wildly. She heard him yelling for Big. Horses thundered on all sides of the sad little tableau, parting around Fire, Nash, and the healers like a river around a rise of rock. The sound was deafening and Fire was soaked, drowning in hoofbeats and water and blood, gripping Nash's face and clinging harder to his mind than she had ever clung to anything before. Look at me, Nash. Look at me. Nash, I love you. I love you so much.

He blinked, staring into her face, a string of blood growing at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders and neck convulsed in pain.

Living is too hard right now, he whispered into her mind. Dying is easy. Let me die.

She felt the very moment when the two armies met, an explosion taking place within her own being. So much fear and pain, and so many minds fading away.

No, Nash. I won't let you. My brother, don't die. Hold on. My brother, hold onto me.