22
At sunrise, we marched toward our last battlefield. It was ironic because I had thought that yesterday too. What if this wasn’t the last battle? The last fight? I didn’t want to think about that.
It was a quiet morning, as if even the birds and insects knew our mood was tense. Jumpy.
We stopped by the edge of the crater. I dared lean over it and look down. Several yards down, the earth looked like sand in an hourglass, as if the slightest movement would cause it to start crumbling into itself again.
“Are you two ready?” Kane asked, standing beside Damara and me.
The others formed a semicircle around us—Ramon, Artan, Dolan, Rye, Jayme, and many other warriors and some wolves. Allen was also here with his alchemists.
“Ready,” Damara said, her tone firm, eager.
I hesitated. I couldn
