“Take your turn, Navin,” Arek growls.

That is enough. In no order, Navin’s men shoot forward. A man jumps over the hood of the car and takes out Kilon’s knees. Any ordinary man would have let that overtake him, but Kilon rolls, shifting his hips till he entraps the man’s ankles, and sweeps him. They scramble to their feet, their weapons tucked forcefully into their palms, and after three crouched steps to the left with calculated surveillance Kilon bursts forward, wrapping his arms around the man’s legs like a bear trap. Hundreds of pounds of flesh crash to the ground and roll like a demolition truck.

Guns fire and bullets fly. This is no schoolyard gang fight. Control, technique, slaps, slices, pulls, rolls, punches, cuts are all in perfect timing. So much so that the fighting seems it might never end.

Beckah is small and agile, while Arek and Navin are fast but have so much weight behind them. The clash of their bodies and weapons shakes the ground beneath my feet.

Arek knocks the knife from Navin’s hand while bending his elbow till it looks to break. Navin winces, just before he pulls the gun from his back. He tries to press the gun against Arek’s temple and fire, but Arek pulls his wrist back and shoves his palm up into Navin’s chin, sending his neck back at an unnatural angle.

Kilon now stands behind a man on his knees, grabs his chin with one hand and his seven-inch blade that tapers to a point with the other, and stabs it just behind the man’s ear. Instantly he falls to the ground, lifeless, even though he belongs to the Velieri. I thought we couldn’t die. Yet then I remember Arek’s words . . . we can, and we do.

Meanwhile, with succinct movements, Arek knocks the knife out of Navin’s hand. Navin jumps for the knife sliding through the snow. Arek turns to Sassi, who stands in front of me with her weapon out and gives a nod. Once again it is as though they have had a conversation.

“Come on,” she says as she pulls my arm.

Unexpectedly, a man grabs Sassi. “Go!” Sassi yells.

Because of the three-foot-high snow, my steps are clumsy as I weave in and out of the cars along the road. Suddenly a door opens. It is so close I cannot stop. My face and body smash against the metal, instantly bloodying my nose as I fall into the wet, and now red, snow. Japha steps out from behind the door with a smile on his face. His arthritic hands are stronger than I expect as he pulls me to my knees.

Everything burns from the cold and the taste of rust is on my tongue. His knife slices through a piece of hair as it comes to my head and his hand grasps my chin.

A bullet shoots through the crowd, hitting Japha in the mouth and splattering blood across the car and my shoulder. I fall against the car door with no ability to brace myself, so my ribs crack and ache instantly. Japha is a short distance away now, covering his bloody face with his hands and searching for his weapon in the snow.

“Get up!” Arek is suddenly above me, pulling me to my feet.

Yet Navin crashes into Arek, sending them barreling down the slanted road. Japha is still steps away, so I quickly turn to run, but my feet fall over each other when pain hits near my spine. It feels like fire entering my blood stream and instantly the muscles in my legs stove up. Once again, the ground becomes an icy landing pad. Flakes freeze on my cheeks as the searing pain continues down my back and leg. I groan. Get it out!

I roll over onto my shoulder just hoping any movement might make the pain disappear. Japha—his face still bloody, pieces of his skin still hanging grotesquely around his lips—slowly makes his way through the snow toward me. Until Kilon is there. Japha shuffles back with shocking hesitation and then disappears behind one of the cars.

I drop my forehead in the snow, unable to hold it up anymore, and breathe in and out. Kilon is only steps away. A hand drops on to my arm from behind me.

“It’ll hurt for a second,” Briston’s voice surprises me.

“What is it?” My throat constricts.

“Just a second,” he says. Instantly, the searing pain in my back lights up brighter, but only for a second. He lifts a bloodied knife, then throws it just feet away as he presses his hand against the wound. “Just give it a moment. It’ll pass.”

Arek rushes back, “We have to go.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to my feet.

“Get her to the car,” Briston says. Then he runs away to help Elizabeth.

“Where did Navin go?” I ask.

“Briston brought reinforcements.”

“Navin got away?”

“Yes.” I can hear the irritation in Arek’s voice.

Kilon, who is wiping blood from his knife while standing over a man he has just killed, is still breathing heavily.

“Where’s Sassi?” I take a quick look around.

“She’s a tough woman. I’m sure she’s fine. I wouldn’t want to fight her,” Arek says.

Kilon agrees, “Believe me . . . you don’t.”

Beckah and Sassi soon appear, bloody and sweaty, but ready to go.

“Let’s go,” Arek says, as he climbs in the car next to me.

“Briston?” Kilon asks from the front seat.

“Give him a moment,” Arek suggests.

In front of the car, Briston speaks intimately with Elizabeth. She touches his cheek with her fingertips, and he smiles sweetly.

Sassi starts the car.

Soon Elizabeth comes to my open window. Her hand touches my arm. “Be careful. I won’t see you for a while . . . but just promise me you’ll be careful.” Then she looks across the seat at Arek. “Keep her safe.”

“I will,” he says quietly.

Then, even in the thigh high snow, she gracefully ducks into the car and they drive away. Briston watches the car until it is out of sight then he sits in the back seat across from us.

I pull my shirt up and wipe the blood from my face, checking my nose to make sure it isn’t broken.

Arek touches my back as I lean forward and then he carefully checks the wound where Japha’s knife was only minutes before.

“It should be gone, right?” I ask.

“Not yet. You’re at your weakest right now. You’ll heal faster in time.”

The cars roar along the slick roads and soon we pass signs with the names of several towns. Not once has Sassi ever asked a question or needed help in where to go. Her confidence is intriguing.

“Have you heard from the Powers?” Arek asks Briston.

“Not all of them. I’m pressing for next week.”

“That’s too long,” Arek states.

“I understand. There’s not much choice. With everything going on we haven’t a choice.”

“Let’s just hope Navin lays off.” Arek puts on his sunglasses.

“Why is Navin able to do all of this?” I ask. “If you are one of the leaders of the Protectors—why not just arrest him?”

“He has been arrested many times,” Briston begins, “but he’s got people working for him everywhere and these people somehow manage to slip him out from under our noses every time.”