Felitïa.

Who are you? What are you?

Felitïa.

Can you tell me anything?

You must listen to me.

Yes, I know. I’ve been trying to listen, but you’re not telling me anything.

Felitïa. Zandrue. Rudiger. Borisin. Meleng. Corvinian. Jorvanultumn. Quilla. Kindanog. Nin-Akna.

The names went on. She strained to hear them—almost thought she could for a moment, but they slipped away, like the fleeting memory of a dream upon waking.

I’m not going to learn anything this way, am I?

The staff was broken. Not physically. Mentally. Though how a staff could even have a mental presence, she wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t all there. It was damaged, missing part of itself.

She ran her thumb over the end of the staff where it lay in her lap, along the wings and then the back of the serpent, around the circumference to the head. The empty eye sockets were just wide enough for her thumb to fit in them, a little under half an inch in diameter, maybe a quarter inch deep. Lon and Nesh scurried along the staff to her hand to see what she was doing.

In the Room, she looked... It was a direction she hadn’t looked before. She decided to call it up for lack of a better word, but the dimensions of the room didn’t really match the dimensions of the real world. There were too many of them for a start.

There, above the line of revealed and blurred people floated the staff, but this staff’s eyes were not empty. In the sockets, two white pearls gleamed. Then the image vanished.

“Damn it.”

“Something wrong?” Zandrue asked.

Felitïa dismissed the Room and looked over at her best friend. “Just more vague clues about the future. I think the staff wants me to find its missing eyes.”

“Ah. I bet that’ll be loads of fun.” Zandrue passed Felitïa a bowl of soup, placing it carefully in Felitïa’s cupped hands. “I’m afraid it’s a little cold now. You’ve been meditating awhile.”

Felitïa took a sip. “It’s fine.”

“So, learn anything else? How does it generate that yellow energy?”

“I don’t think it does. Nibdenoff used the crystal ball to put the energy in. I think the staff was screaming because it didn’t want it. But Nibdenoff didn’t have full control of it either. It wouldn’t let him use its powers against me if I was close enough. Or something like that. I can’t really be sure. I think the energy’s expended now though, or if it isn’t, I don’t know how to draw it out.”

“And what about the secrets?”

“I’ll read them soon enough. Once we’re out of Ninifin. I’ll find out what they have to say about me. Maybe we’ll learn something.”

“All the things you’re destined to do?”

“I won’t be a slave to prophecy, Zandrue.”

“I never said you would, but what if you don’t have a choice?”

“If I don’t have a choice, then what’s the point of anything? If my life is laid out already, then any decision I make is meaningless. Life has no value.”

Zandrue grimaced. “That’s a pretty morbid view of things.”

“Which is why I don’t accept it. Not long before she died, Fra-Atl asked me why I let other people define me. She was referring to the Will-Breaker title and the role I’m supposed to play. She asked me if it’s what I really wanted. I told her it wasn’t, not all of it. I still don’t understand all the ramifications of being this Will-Breaker, but I do know I won’t accept any role I don’t want. I don’t have any desire to break people’s wills, whatever that portends. I also won’t let my life be dictated. My decisions are my own, and my life will be what I make of it.”

“In concert with your friends, I hope,” Zandrue said.

Felitïa smirked. “Yes, of course, in concert with my friends. I understand that my life will be affected by others, and I can’t control that. But I will control how I react to it all.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Zandrue said. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“I so choose you, my loyal subject.” Felitïa tried to take a sip of her soup, but she couldn’t keep a straight face and ended up spilling half the bowl.

Zandrue laughed with her.

They were seated in the woods a short distance away from the main camp, a day’s journey north of the city of Ninifin. Despite exhaustion, they had travelled the entire day after the night of the attack on the Palace at the insistence of Ses-Izel. There hadn’t been much night left after the battle at the Grand Temple, so none of them had gotten more than an hour or so of sleep. But now they were a good distance away from the City and safely hidden in the woods, they had finally been able to rest.

None of them were in good shape. The few who had come through it all physically unscathed, like Quilla or Meleng, were still mentally scarred. Recovery was going to be a long, slow road.

Meleng was doing what he could to tend the injured. Jorvan had a broken wing. Fra-Chan’s leg was fractured. Rudiger and Nin-Akna both had multiple wounds. And of course, there was Felitïa’s fingers and shoulder—and her ankle, which she thought had healed since Scovese. Alas, the other night’s events had aggravated it. She couldn’t walk without a limp again. At least she didn’t need the crutches. She’d never be able to hold on to them.

Rudiger limped over. and sat several feet from them. “So.”

“I asked him to come over once you finished your meditations,” Zandrue said.

“You were laughing. Figured that meant you were done.”

Fear and anxiety rose in Zandrue, so Felitïa placed her hand on Zandrue’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Zandrue nodded. “There are things I need to talk to you about.”

“Yeah,” Rudiger said. “But a lot of it’s private, don’t you think? No offence, Felitïa, but...”

“I need you both here,” Zandrue said. “This is going to be hard enough to do once, never mind twice. Please?”

Rudiger took a moment, but then nodded his head. “Fine.”

Zandrue glanced over at the main camp. “I’d prefer if the others don’t hear though.”

Rudiger looked over at the camp as well, and sighed. He got up, limped closer and sat beside Felitïa. There was a ping of disappointment from Zandrue that Rudiger hadn’t sat beside her. It was brief, but it was strong.

“Well?” Rudiger’s emotions were a mash of anger, confusion, disappointment, desire, and love.

Between the strong emotions coming from both Zandrue and Rudiger, Felitïa began to feel a bit overwhelmed. Her abilities rarely had weak days anymore like they used to. She found herself wishing for one of those now.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Zandrue said. “I need to tell you about...” She swallowed and took a couple deep breaths. “I need to tell you about who I am, where I come from. I’m...”

“Not human?” Rudiger said.

Zandrue looked away, fear rising in her. Felitïa reached out again, but she pulled away. “I...”

“What are you then? A Volg? Borisin says you don’t smell like one, but there are similarities. Just like you don’t smell human, but there are similarities.”

“You knew,” Zandrue said. “How long?”

“Only recently,” Rudiger said. “Borisin told me you smelled strange the first time we met you, but he didn’t realise the reason until he smelled Ses-Xipil. She was one of you as well, wasn’t she?”

Zandrue nodded.

“I heard something about you working with her from Corvinian. That why you took off? To be with your own kind?”

“No. No. It was an accident. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t know she was here, but when I bumped into her, I didn’t have a choice. If she’d found out I was carcraime, I’d be dead.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Rudiger said. “But frankly, I don’t give a damn. You took off without notice. You said you didn’t want to see me again. I didn’t believe you at first, but then you didn’t come back. I spent two months thinking you must have died, hoping against hope you hadn’t. Every single day, I hoped you’d come back, but now you’re here, I can barely look at you.”

“Look, I’m sorry all right?” Zandrue snapped. “If you’d just let me explain everything first. Then you can decide if you hate me or not. Then you can decide if you never want to look at me. All right?”

Felitïa put a hand on Rudiger’s arm. One advantage to being between the two of them. “Give her a chance.”

Rudiger shifted about for a few seconds. “Fine. I’ve been wanting an explanation. Let’s hear it.”

Zandrue closed her eyes for a moment. “Yeah, I’m a Volg. We’re not all evil maniacs, you know? Most of us are good people. We’re just ruled by evil assholes. Like the Ninifins. They’re mostly good people who are ruled by evil assholes.”

“But you don’t look like a Volg,” Rudiger said.

“Male and female Volgs look different. It’s just the way we are. Most of the time, anyway. On rare occasions, a girl with wings is born or a boy without wings. That usually results in them being misidentified at first. But anyway, yeah. Volg women look more human. Did you know, too, Felitïa?”

“I guessed,” Felitïa said. “We found some things on Scovese I haven’t told you about yet. A locket, a portrait. And there’s the fact every single Volg always seems to be male. Pictures of Volg men with human women make you start to wonder. There are still things I don’t understand though, like why do you have to go away so often?”

“Every now and then, two or three times a year to start, less often later, Volg women go through...We call it the galdraif. There isn’t a word for it in any human tongue I know. The closest analogy for it would be the human menstrual cycle, but it’s not the same thing. Not exactly.”

“But you have a period, too,” Felitïa said.

Zandrue shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been faking it for years. But the galdraif is kind of similar, except it changes our appearance. We become more...Volg-like. I have horns, you know.”

Felitïa wasn’t sure how to respond. “Horns?”

“Really,” Zandrue continued. She bent her head over towards the two of them, and probed with a finger. “Here and...here. Go ahead. Touch them.”

Felitïa reached with her thumbs. Sure enough, there was a hint of a depression. Some scabbing over softer, more pliable skin, but no bone underneath. Or wait... In the centre of the depression, a hint of something hard. The other was the same. Felitïa withdrew her hand and looked at Rudiger.

He reached out slowly and felt as well. “I never noticed before.”

“No reason why you would,” Zandrue said. “It’s the sort of thing you don’t notice unless you’re looking for it.”

“I’ve never noticed either,” Felitïa said, “and I don’t understand why.”

Rudiger scoffed. “To be fair, Felitïa. I’ve been more up close and personal with Zandrue, if you know what I mean. If I never noticed—”

“Rudiger, you have a small birthmark on your inside upper thigh, and no, I don’t know that because Zandrue told me. I can go into more detail, though, if you want.”

Rudiger shifted his legs and slid a little away from her.

“Remember how embarrassed I was around you when I first met you? I know every detail of everyone in that line in my head, and yet I didn’t notice Zandrue’s horns.” She pulled up the Room and the line of people, focused in on Zandrue. The indents in her head were there. Felitïa could even tell the shape of the horns themselves beneath the skin—only about an inch long in total, narrower at the top, but rounded and not pointed. Why had she not noticed them before?

Zandrue shrugged. “I don’t know why you didn’t notice. It never even occurred to me before that you should have been able to. Your head is weird, Felitïa.”

Maybe it was because she only tended to consciously notice very specific details when she first met each person in the line or when she specifically wanted to notice them. Things had happened differently with her introduction to Zandrue though. She hadn’t discovered the line-up in her head yet.

“Anyway,” Zandrue continue, “most of the time, my horns are recessed like they are now, but during the galdraif, they protrude out. It can be quite painful. We also grow more hair on our face. Our nose and chin stretch out a little. No wings though.”

“Volg shapechangers,” Felitïa said.

“We’re not really shapeshifters, but yeah, that’s where all those stories come from. Volg women who were caught during their galdraif. That’s why I have to leave each time. I can’t be seen like that. I’d be executed. But it comes on suddenly. We get very little warning. That’s why I always have to take off so suddenly.” She placed her hands on Felitïa’s cheeks. “I wanted so bad to be at your graduation, Felitïa. I looked forward to it for so long. I was so proud. And then... I’m sorry.” She pulled her hands back and wiped the tears from her face.

“It’s okay,” Felitïa said, wiping her own tears on her sleeve. “I understand now. But why could you never tell me? I would have understood. I wouldn’t have hated you.”

“I know. It’s not that I didn’t trust you. But you have to understand, this is a secret the Volgs take very seriously. I’ve lived my life in terror that I would be found, but I could live with that knowing the arcraime wouldn’t harm you if you didn’t know. But if they found out you knew, they’d kill you too. To protect the secret. I couldn’t bear that thought.”

“You’ve said that word a couple times,” Rudiger said. “What’s this...carcrime?”

“Arcraime,” Zandrue corrected. “I’m carcraime because I betrayed them. I’m part of the Volg warrior caste. My real name is Lacquaime, Daughter of Emclenim. The arcraime is an organisation for warrior caste women. It’s the single most prestigious organisation a warrior caste woman can belong to. It brings our fathers great honour. We are trained from the moment we can walk to be warriors, assassins, spies. Our job is to infiltrate the human world. To leave the arcraime by any method other than death, to be carcraime, however, brings the highest level of dishonour to our fathers and families.

“When I left you Rudiger, I got angry, I know. I wanted to tell you the truth, but...I’ve lived this lie so long. I said things I shouldn’t have. But I always intended to come back. And I was on my way back too. I even hoped to tell you the truth. But I met Tadstaime—Ses-Xipil—by chance on the road. She recognised me as a Volg. We have better senses of smell than humans.”

That explained a few things.

“I couldn’t let her know I was carcraime,” Zandrue continued. “She had to believe I was still arcraime, so I convinced her I’d been sent to work with her.”

“Or she’d have killed you,” Felitïa said.

“That would be the best-case scenario.”

“Best?” Rudiger said.

“Worst-case scenario, she’d have shipped me off to my father or sister so they could kill me.”

“You have a sister?” Felitïa said.

Zandrue nodded. “And the only way my family can ever regain its honour is if one of them kills me. That’s why they’ll still be looking for me. Until recently, most people probably thought I was dead. Even my father and sister probably thought that, but it was also their greatest fear. If I die by any other means, they never get their honour back.”

“Is your sister ar...um...part of this organisation too?” Felitïa asked. The Volg words barely shared any consonants she was used to. It sounded strange to hear them from Zandrue, isolated amongst all the Arnorgue words.

“She’s arcraime, yes,” Zandrue said. “However, she won’t have been given any other assignments since I went rogue. Her sole assignment now will be to kill me. She’ll have that until she succeeds or dies.”

Zandrue took a long breath and looked at Rudiger. “That’s why I took off. It’ll happen from time to time. Less often these days. In our mid-twenties, we experience a really intense galdraif. I experienced mine last year. After that, they’re usually shorter and less frequent. So can you, um, maybe forgive me?”

Rudiger looked at the ground and shifted his position again. “I don’t know, I...I mean...”

“If you hate me, I guess I understand. But I just want you to know I didn’t mean that stuff about not coming back. I have a terrible temper, I know. I just...I love you, Rudiger. I’ve never really loved someone in this way before, but I do love you and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. So please? Please say you forgive me.”

Rudiger looked at her and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I forgive you. I love you, too. Never really thought I’d hear you say it, though.”

Zandrue threw herself across Felitïa and onto Rudiger, her arms wrapping around him. She kissed him and then sobbed into his chest.

Felitïa shifted away from them to give them room, and wiped the tears from her face. She sat there a bit longer, then decided to give them some more space. With a bit of a struggle, she rolled the staff onto her elbows and wrapped her arms around it. She got up and limped back to the main camp.

Most of the people there were busy packing supplies, and getting ready to move on. Quilla, however, was seated by the embers of the fire. Felitïa sat beside her, letting the staff roll onto the ground. “Hey.”

Quilla looked at her with swollen eyes. “Hey.” Then she looked back at the fire pit.

“How are you doing?” Felitïa asked.

“How do you think?”

“Sorry. Silly question.”

“That’s okay. You’re just trying to help. But you can’t, all right? Life is shit right now and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Felitïa nodded, and fought off the urge to break down crying herself.

“What’s the plan when we’re out of Ninifin?” Quilla asked.

“We’ll have to talk about that,” Felitïa answered.

“I’m going back to Arnor City,” Quilla said. “I have to tell your family what happened to him.”

Felitïa nodded.

“I don’t even have his body. Gods, they hate me enough already. They’re going to blame me.”

“No they won’t.”

“Yes, they will, Felitïa, and you know it.”

“No, they really won’t,” Felitïa said. “They’ll blame me. Or my mother will, and that’s who we’re really talking about here. Trust me. Your best defence against my mother is me. Make it out to be my fault. Blame me all you need to. I’ll understand.”

Quilla looked up at her. “Won’t you be coming too? There’ll need to be a funeral. Surely, you’ll want to—”

“I don’t know. I was banished, remember? Cerus was confident my father would reverse the decision, but after this... Besides, there are things I need to do.”

“He was your brother.”

“I know, and missing his funeral doesn’t mean I won’t mourn him. But I won’t be welcome there. My mother may not have liked Garet much, but she hates me even more, and she’ll use anything to destroy me. Like I said, your best defence against her is to let her blame me. And that’ll work better if I’m not there.”

Quilla lowered her head and stared into the fire pit again. Felitïa did the same, and they sat there in silence for several minutes.

“I should help with the packing,” Felitïa said eventually and started to stand up.

“Don’t worry yourself,” Ses-Izel said, coming over to them. “It’s almost done, and you’re too injured to help anyway.”

Nin-Akna, Meleng, Jorvan, and Corvinian were with her. Fra-Chan and Fra-Tepeu stood a short distance behind. Both were leaning on Ses-Iktan for support.

Ses-Izel sat beside Felitïa. “We need to talk.” She motioned to Meleng, Jorvan, and Nin-Akna.

Jorvan eased himself down. His broken wing hung limp to the side, supported by a makeshift splint Meleng had put together. Wing breaks were difficult to fix, Jorvan had told them earlier. He felt his own odds were good, and Meleng concurred, but there was a chance he might never fly again. “If a loss of flight was needed to ensure Corvinian’s safety, then it will be worth it,” he had said.

Meleng sat beside the Isyar, keeping an eye on the broken wing. Corvinian sat beside Meleng.

Ses-Izel motioned to Nin-Akna again, but Nin-Akna shook her head and stood behind Meleng.

“Suit yourself,” Ses-Izel said with a shrug. She peered off to the side. “I see Rudiger and Zandrue have made up. Hey, you two! Get over here!”

A few moments later, they came over, Rudiger leaning on Zandrue for support as he walked. They sat with Felitïa and the others.

“Ses-Patli got back a couple hours ago,” Ses-Izel said. “She travelled through the night to get to us. Yesterday, more nobles were murdered—all of them people in the line of succession for the throne.” She looked at Felitïa. “And Fra-Ichtaca has blamed you for every single one. The people believe you killed Nin-Xoco. They’re calling for your head.”

“I’m not surprised,” Felitïa said. “What happens now?”

“First, you and your friends get the hell out of Ninifin. I hope you’ve learnt your lesson, and I don’t want to see any of you back here any time soon.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve learnt it,” Rudiger said.

“I think you’re being overly harsh,” Nin-Akna said.

“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Ses-Izel snapped.

Nin-Akna scowled, but said nothing else.

Felitïa looked back and forth between them. The irritation from both was drowning most of the other emotions in the area, except Quilla’s grief. What had happened between them?

“The problem, however,” Ses-Izel said, “is how you’re going to get past the wall. My people can get you over, but once again, we have a problem with the horses. We can’t do horses, so I don’t know what Fra-Tepeu is thinking giving you all of his.”

“I can get us through the gate,” Felitïa said.

Ses-Izel scoffed. “In your injured state?”

Felitïa nodded. “I’ll have to take people and animals through one at a time, so it’ll be slow, but I can do it.”

“I’m almost sorry I won’t be there to see it.”

“You’re not coming to the wall with us?” Rudiger asked.

Ses-Izel shook her head. “No. I’m heading back to the City with Ses-Patli. My career smuggling people out of Ninifin is over. I’m a known Resistance leader. I’ll never be able to pass through the gates again. I’m going to focus entirely on rebuilding our strength, and I intend to start right away. I have one thing to ask of you though.”

“Of course,” Rudiger said, but Zandrue and the others looked to Felitïa first before answering.

“Name it,” Felitïa said.

“Take Nin-Akna with you.”

The Youth Guard’s scowl deepened.

“Why?” Felitïa asked.

“Anyone ahead of Nin-Xtab for the throne who’s still alive will be holing up right now, spending their fortunes on defence. They’ll survive a little while because Fra-Ichtaca’s got some rebuilding to do first, and she’ll want to keep them believing you’re the villain. But they’ll die eventually. Fra-Ichtaca will also do everything in her power to track Nin-Akna down and kill her too. She’s the one chance we have of keeping Fra-Ichtaca’s hands off the throne. But she has to stay alive. That’s where you come in. Take her with you and keep her alive.”

Felitïa looked to the Youth Guard. “What do you want, Nin-Akna?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. But I want to fight for my home.”

“And you will,” Ses-Izel said. “When the time is right.” She addressed Felitïa again. “When we’re ready to strike again, I’ll get word to you, and then you bring her back.”

“If she doesn’t want—”

“What she wants right now is irrelevant.”

“I’m standing right here!” Nin-Akna said. “The least you can do is talk to me. And what I want is not irrelevant!”

Ses-Izel turned to her. “Yes, it is. One day, you’ll be queen, and when that day comes, I’ll bow to your authority. But until then, I intend to do everything in my power to keep you alive, and if the best way to do that is to send you packing for a while, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“This isn’t fair!”

“You’re right. It’s not,” Ses-Izel said. “But that’s life, I’m afraid.”

“You’ll get to come back eventually,” Felitïa said.

Nin-Akna didn’t reply.

Felitïa turned to Ses-Izel. “I won’t force anyone to come with me who doesn’t want to, no matter how important you think your reasons are.”

“You owe us,” Ses-Izel said.

Felitïa nodded. “Yes, I do. But I’ll repay you in a way that doesn’t force other people to do things they don’t want. If Nin-Akna doesn’t want to come with me, she doesn’t have to. And that is final. However, if she chooses to come, I welcome her.”

“You do still have to get me back to Sinitïa unharmed,” Meleng said.

Nin-Akna shifted on her feet for several seconds. “Fine. I’ll go.” She turned and stomped off to Ses-Iktan and Fra-Chan, where she embraced them.

“Then it’s settled,” Felitïa said to Ses-Izel. “You have my word, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her alive.”

“Thank you.” Ses-Izel stood up. “I need to get ready. Ses-Patli’s waiting for me.” She walked over to Rudiger, looked at him, and smirked. “Even seated, you’re almost as tall as I am.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Take care of yourself, okay? And say goodbye to Borisin for me.”

“Of...of course,” Rudiger blabbered, looking to Zandrue.

Ses-Izel smiled at Zandrue, who grinned back at her. Then the Ninifin headed off.

“That was...um...” Rudiger stammered.

Zandrue laughed. “It’s okay, Rudiger. You thought I was gone. I don’t have a problem with it. Besides, it’s possible to care for more than one person at the same time, you know?”

“Right,” Rudiger said.

Zandrue leaned over and kissed him.

“Where will we go?” Jorvan asked.

“We’ll need to discuss that,” Felitïa replied, “but let’s get out of Ninifin first.”

Rudiger stood up. “I’ll go get our stuff and help with any final preparations the others need.”

Corvinian jumped to his feet. “I’ll help!” He ran off after the limping Rudiger.

Quilla stared after the boy.

Meleng and Jorvan got up. “I need to make a final round tending to the injured before we go,” Meleng said. “Make sure everyone’s ready to depart.” He and the Isyar headed off. They bumped into Fra-Tepeu coming the other way and spoke with him for a minute or so before continuing on their way.

Fra-Tepeu continued over to the fire pit. “I just wanted to bid my farewells. Only a few of Ses-Izel’s people are going any farther with you.”

“I’m very sorry about Fra-Mecatl,” Zandrue said. “She was a good woman.”

FreTapeu lowered his head for a moment. “Yes, she was. I will miss her.” He looked up again and hobbled over to Felitïa. “I’m sorry we did not have the opportunity to get to know one another, and that you never met my sister. I think she would have liked you.” He held out his hand. “Goodbye.”

Felitïa wrapped her thumb around one of his fingers. “Goodbye. And thank you for everything you did for my friends.”

“Think nothing of it.” He turned and held his hand out to Quilla. “I am very sorry for your loss.”

Quilla looked up with a forced smile. “Thank you.” She took his hand. “Goodbye.”

Fra-Tepeu then said his goodbyes to Zandrue and headed off again. The three of them left by the fire pit all stood up.

“I’ll go get my things,” Quilla said and turned away.

Felitïa went over to Zandrue.

“What are we going to do now?” Zandrue asked.

“Find out what we can about Corvinian,” Felitïa said. “And I have to understand my head. I need to break through whatever’s blocking my full abilities. I think I’ll go back to Quorge and get Agernon’s help, like we planned all those months ago.”

“I’ll go with you,” Zandrue said.

“I may need you to go with Quilla. She’s heading back to Arnor City to tell them of Garet. Someone needs to look after her.”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

Felitïa looked around at the remains of the camp, Ses-Izel’s wagon sitting off to the side. The surviving Resistance members were loading it with sacks of supplies. Past it, Ses-Izel and a muscular woman were walking into the woods in the direction of the road.

On the other side of the camp, Rudiger was saddling Borisin with Corvinian trying to help. Nearby, Meleng was consoling Nin-Akna, and Jorvan was saying goodbye to Fra-Chan and Ses-Iktan.

“Bitter-sweet victories, eh?” Zandrue said.

Felitïa sighed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll go with Quilla as you ask, but I wish it didn’t have to be so soon after getting back together.”

“I know. Same here. But we have time before we go our separate ways. Lots of time to fill each other in on what we’ve been doing. There’s so much I want to tell you still. I love you, you know.”

Zandrue nodded. “I know. I love you, too.”

“Oh! I met someone! On Scovese.”

Zandrue’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Tell me about her!”

There was a lot of uncertainty ahead of her. Dangers. Maybe death. There was so much she still didn’t understand. Corvinian. The staff. Quilla. Her own abilities. But there were two things Felitïa knew with certainty.

First, she was the Will-Breaker. There was no denying that part of herself any longer.

Second, she was not the Will-Breaker her enemies expected her to be. She was her own person and no matter what, she would make her own destiny.

THE END OF PART ONE OF

The Will-Breaker

The story continues in Her Right Mind.