Shouts woke Jane the next morning—yelling from the ramparts, a flapping of wings. Jane scrambled to her feet, pausing only to throw on her clothes before she rushed to investigate the clamor.

A cluster of Riders was gathered on the ramparts. In the center of them all stood Agrafena, looking coolly unimpressed in her trademark mink pelt. Beside her was the large man Jane had seen the previous day, more fur than human, with a beard that was almost the size of a fox.

As Jane watched, Kir hurried forward, the picture of earnestness. "I'm so glad you could make it," he said. "Did you receive my message?"

"I did, and it was very impertinent." Agrafena folded her arms. "Do you take us for dogs? The people of the Free Kingdom of Tulunsk do not come when called!"

The smile slid off Prince Kir's face.

"Have you decided to meet my demands?" Agrafena raised her chin. Had she been a tall person, she might have looked imposing, but given that she was just over five feet, the effect was mildly ridiculous.

"I—ah—" Kir looked taken aback. Jane suspected no one had ever dared speak to him as Agrafena was doing now.

"Well?"

"I'm afraid I cannot give you all that you demand. But perhaps we can come to some sort of compromise—"

"It's all or nothing! Either you agree to my terms, or your people lose their hands!"

Kir paled. "Please don't start chopping off hands," he said earnestly. "I'm very sorry, but some of the things you ask are beyond my power to give!"

"Nothing is beyond your power to give, if you truly are Prince Kir of Somita, as you say you are." She glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I think you're being obstructionist. Shall we settle this here and now?"

"Settle...?"

"Indeed, Prince of Somita. I, Agrafena Yulia Alyona, Princess of House Sokolov and third ruler of the Free Kingdom of Tulunsk, hereby challenge you to a duel!"

Kir stared at her.

"As the challenged, you shall name the type of duel, and as the challenger, I shall name the place. Whoever wins the duel gets their conditions met. Do you accept, Prince of Somita?"

"Oh, really!" Jane burst out, unable to keep quiet a moment longer. "This is the most ridiculous—"

Kir held up a hand, and she fell silent.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he said.

"It is a proud and noble tradition of the Free Kingdom of Tulunsk." Agrafena shifted on her heels. "Name the type of duel, Prince of Somita. I grow impatient!"

"All right. Then I challenge you to Borbana Vivernakh."

It was Agrafena's turn to go pale.

"Borbana..."

"Unless there is another type of battle that you'd prefer...?"

Indignation flashed through Agrafena's eyes. "Borbana Vivernakh it will be!" she cried. "We shall duel over that field." She pointed. "You have fifteen minutes to prepare, Prince of Somita!"

"Your Highness," Olesya hissed. "Are you quite certain—"

Kir shrugged. "It didn't seem fair to challenge her to a swordfight when she doesn't carry a sword," he said. "And your sister Vitalya taught me the basics, back when we were kids. It's one of my better... er... obscure dueling skills."

Jane was beginning to worry the starstruck expression might be permanently affixed to Alexei's face. She nudged him with her elbow. "What's Borbana... thing?"

"Dueling on wyverns," he said breathlessly. "With sorcerers underneath to catch you."

"That doesn't sound so—"

"While standing up. You're basically balancing on the back of a wyvern, holding a giant spear, trying to knock the other person off."

Why, Jane thought. Just... why.

She watched, helpless and frustrated, as Kir mounted his wyvern. Is he daft? she wondered. Had Kir's guilt consumed him so much that he was actually trying to get himself killed?

But everyone else seemed quite willing to go along with this madness. Half a dozen Somitan Riders were already teleporting onto the field below, forming a wide ring. Men and women in fur pelts—presumably Tulunski sorcerers—teleported after them, stationing themselves at intervals between the Somita battle mages.

Kir turned to Olesya.

"Since you're familiar with the rules, will you be our side's referee?"

Olesya nodded. "Come with me, Jane," she said, thin-lipped. "I'm sure you'll want to watch this stupidity at close range."

Jane hurried after her, scrambling up the side of Olesya's wyvern. "What are the rules?"

"Simple. No aiming for the eyes. No direct wyvern on wyvern attacks—pole attacks only. Whoever falls first loses the challenge."

Drazan handed Kir an aluminum pole that was twice as long as a wyvern's wingspan, and Kir took off on his wyvern. Across the field, Agrafena did the same. When they reached the center of the ring, both stood—rather tentatively—and aimed their poles at each other.

Thus began the strangest duel Jane had ever seen. It should have been chilling since the fighters were forty feet off the ground, but the length of the poles, combined with the wobbling of the wyverns as they circled to stay aloft, made the whole thing look ridiculous.

Agrafena struck first. Jane had no idea which part of Kir she intended to target—the pole was so long it was almost impossible to control—but it scraped somewhere close to Kir's ankle. Kir backstepped, wobbling, but miraculously didn't fall. He jabbed tentatively at Agrafena, who leapt out of the way just in time. Her wyvern bellowed as Kir's spear scraped her scales. Agrafena overbalanced, righting herself at the last moment.

The wyverns circled each other, nose to tail. Watching from Olesya's wyvern, which was also circling the duo, Jane started to feel nauseous. Just when she was about to look away, Kir jabbed at Agrafena with his spear again. The metal hit Agrafena in the ankle. It was only a gentle tap, but Agrafena overbalanced and pitched forward. Her hands scrabbled against her wyvern's hide but didn't find purchase.

She plummeted.

Olesya spurred her wyvern into a dive, but mages were already levitating Agrafena, cushioning her fall. She floated the last couple feet onto the grass, where her legs gave out from under her.

Kir landed nearby and barreled across the field, as Agrafena scrambled to her feet.

"Are you all right?" said Kir.

Agrafena straightened and brushed the dirt from her tunic. Her hands were bleeding from where they had scraped against the wyvern, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. The burly bearded man with the furs tried to help her, but she yanked her arm away. She looked close to tears. "I'm fine," she said stiffly.

"Sorry," said Kir. "I just wanted to get my people back. Please don't cry—"

Agrafena's chin whipped up.

"A warrior of Tulunsk never cries!" she said, though her eyes looked suspiciously shiny. "That is a grievous insult, Prince of Somita! It is grounds for me to challenge you again!"

She started forward, but Olesya put a hand on her shoulder. "There'll be no more challenging today," she said firmly. "Prince Kir won fair and square, and I think it's time you brought our people back to Dalnushka."

Agrafena swiped at her eyes.

Kir looked upset. "You fought very well," he said. "Truly—"

"Don't condescend me!"

Kir blinked. "Look," he said. "I have nothing against your people. I just want our people returned, safe and sound, without fingers missing. I was trying to tell you—before all this dueling—that I'll agree to your terms, except for the avtorka's Writing in the Book of Truths. Only the avtorka can decide what her Writings should be, so that is something no one here can promise you. In exchange, I want to arrange an alliance with your people against the Kanachskiy. Is that all right?"

Agrafena glared up at him. "Really?" she said suspiciously. "You really agree to all the other terms?"

"If you agree to mine."

She stared at Kir's outstretched hand. The surrounding Riders watched, holding their breaths. At last—after a far more dramatic pause than Jane thought was truly necessary—Agrafena shook it.

Kir's face split into a relieved smile. "Do you want any of our healers to look at your wounds, or—"

"We have our own healers!" she snapped.

"All right! I'm sorry..."

Kir watched her limp across the field, leaning on a tall man cloaked in fur. "Poor girl." He still looked distraught. "She seemed so upset, and she still got hurt; perhaps I should've—"

"Don't you dare say you should've let her win," Jane snapped.

"Look on the bright side," said Drazan. "You got two hundred of our people back!"

"Yes..." said Kir. For the first time since he'd set foot in Dalnushka, his face brightened. "Yes, they're unharmed!"

"This is all well and good," Olesya cut in. "But please keep in mind that we are still in the middle of a war, that the protective spells on Dalnushka are still broken, and that bringing people back right now may be problematic, since Kananch will probably try to attack us again—"

"Yes... ah, right." Kir deflated. "Perhaps I should ask Agrafena if she wouldn't mind keeping our people for a little while longer..."

A wyvern alighted alongside them; Drazan hopped down off its back. "Olesya!" he gasped. "Urgent news, and I'm afraid it's bad. A band of sudok was just spotted on the western ridge."

It was like a bucket of ice water had just landed on Jane, dousing her from head to toe. She swallowed. Kir went pale.

"How many?" Olesya said grimly.

"Twenty sudok, and they're moving this way. They should get here sometime tonight, if I calculated accurately."

Olesya cursed. "And we're still nowhere near to breaking through the cave-in to get to the protection spells."

"We could run," said Drazan and Jane wondered if she imagined the hopeful note in his voice. "Our mission was scouting, not retaking Dalnushka."

"Reinforcements should get here soon."

"You're not honestly thinking—"

Olesya looked significantly at Jane, then back at Drazan. Jane could practically hear the wheels in her brain turning.

The Avtorka is with us; the Avtorka still needs to pass her third godstest. What better venue for a godstest than defeating a party of attacking sudok?

Fear writhed in Jane's gut. "Wait," she said. "I don't think this is a very good—"

"The tsar gave me very exact orders," said Olesya. "We're staying."

Jane's hands trembled.

And if I screw up, and everyone dies, then what? How many sacrifices are a few Writings truly worth?

But no one else seemed to care what she thought. Kir was nodding, staring at her with a look that was almost painfully hopeful, and even Drazan had adopted an expression of fatalistic optimism. She wanted to shake them.

"Nestor," said Olesya. "Gather more scouts to ride southeast along the pass to track the sudok's progress. Gleb, gather rocks and shrapnel, Vestrov, ready the battlements for defense. We'll concentrate all remaining efforts on getting past the cave-in and fixing the protective spells on Dalnushka."

~*~

They wouldn't let Jane help them clear the cave-in. In Olesya's words, "You might be doing your godstest tomorrow, and if you're not at full power, the gods help us all!" Drazan brought Jane to the main hall and tried to convince her to sleep.

But Jane was too on edge to get any rest. The thought of the approaching sudok, combined with her terror about the impending godstest, brought her wandering feet to the battlements. She stared at the darkening hills, trying to guess when the sudok would arrive.

She couldn't help but think how much of this was her fault. Not just Dalnushka falling to ruin—though her actions had clearly contributed to that disaster—but also Zakhar. She was certain that he was behind the renewed attack on Dalnushka.

I should have sent him into the sun, Jane thought grimly. Sending him back to Kanach was too good for him, even if he did lose a leg!

And then there was Prince Kir, the tsar's only legitimate heir, who wasn't even supposed to be there. Olesya had tried to send him home earlier, accompanied by a small party of Riders for his protection. The idiot had refused.

He believed in her; he believed in her, and he shouldn't, none of them should; there was a decent chance that she would fail, and all of them were going to die...

The azdaja fluttered about the battlements, as disgruntled and unhappy as Jane. Her tongue flicked the air, and her tail lashed in agitation.

"Do you smell anything?" Jane asked, rubbing her arms to warm them.

"Wind issss in the wrong direction." The azdaja coiled herself over Jane's shoulders, looking left and right. "I keep thinking I ssssmell... but never mind. You sssssshould ssssleep."

"Thanks," said Jane, rubbing her eyes, which were as wide and awake as they'd ever been. "Very helpful, that comment."

A shout reached her ears from farther down the battlements. Jane tensed.

"Run!" the azdaja hissed. "Get back in fortresssss! Ssssssafer there!"

But before Jane could move, light illuminated the sky, almost blinding her. A shout filled the air, followed by screams, and a great 'WUMPH!' of fire.

"Sorcerers!" she heard someone shout. "Kanachskiy sorcerers are attacking!"

Shit, Jane thought. They must have teleported over the mountains ahead of the sudok—

Kir scrambled out of the hall and grabbed her arm. "They're here," he shouted, unnecessarily. "Get back inside!"

"You get inside!" Jane said, pushing Kir ahead of her; they both stumbled toward the doors.

They were only halfway there when a magical explosion from behind them knocked Jane squarely off her feet. She wrapped her arms around Kir, instinctively trying to shield him, and the two of them went tumbling toward the inside of the Great Hall.

"Jane!" said Kir.

"I'm all ri—"

She broke off.

A gold haze shimmered at the edges of her vision. Jane blinked, but it was expanding, enveloping her surroundings in a misty yellow glow. She saw Kir's eyes widen in shock and tried to call out to him, tried to tell him to leave, to get to safety. But before she could form the words, the world faded, replaced by a brilliant golden mist, which was abruptly followed by an eerie, inky blackness.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed them, and opened them again. Blackness met her gaze: a pervasive darkness, impenetrable as night.

Her stomach sank.

Her third godstest had begun.

~*~

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