A sifblade through the liver, while trying to protect one of the most powerful Aeriels in existence. Ruban’s lips quirked, unable to deny the exquisite irony of it all.

An energy shell flashed into view, sailing past them to detonate against one of the smaller castle towers.

“Shit,” Ruban said with feeling.

“Quite. My shell alerted the vankrai to our position.” Ashwin stood, his gaze flitting to the mangled corpse of the man he’d just killed. “My mistake. I should’ve broken his neck, instead.” He lifted Ruban carefully off the ground – with as much effort as Hiya hauling one of her dolls around the flat – and deposited him in a small recess among the hedges. “Stay still. I need to check the damage, and I don’t want you bleeding out on me just yet.”

Ruban groaned, holding himself as still as possible while Ashwin prodded at his ribs. “Calm down. I’ll be fine. Sifblades rarely cause mortal wounds in humans. Nobody wants Hunters to accidentally stab themselves to death during a Hunt.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Ashwin’s voice was strained as he worked to stem the flow of blood. “Humans die easily. It was sheer luck that he didn’t puncture any vital organs.” He nudged them forward until they were both completely shrouded by the shrubbery.

Ruban grunted, too exhausted for repartee. He’d done what he had, because at the time, it’d been the only option. He didn’t regret it. But he didn’t have the words to explain that to the immortal demigod currently cauterizing his wound with a tiny energy shell.

He bit down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out.

If he was going to die here, it wasn’t going to be amidst a bickering contest with the thrice-damned prince of Vaan.

Ruban oscillated in and out of consciousness.

The roar of a detonating shell, somewhere close by, finally yanked him back to awareness. His undershirt was drenched in sweat, his mouth dry as sandpaper.

He swallowed, trying to push himself off the sodden floor, before deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. “What the hell–”

“The vankrai are moving towards the castle.” Ashwin’s voice was soft, his words steady. “Kaheen is leading them here. I’m quite sure Simani will be with her.”

“They probably think we’re dead.” The realization made Ruban’s stomach knot with dread. If Simani had given up hope…

“This is the best opportunity we’ll have.” Ashwin leaned closer, talking rapidly. “I’ve patched up the wound as best I could. The bleeding has stopped, at least. As soon as they land, I’ll create a diversion; draw the vankrai to the hills so Kaheen can get you and Simani out of here. Just–” A note of agitation crept into his voice. His eyes were fixed on the Aeriels gliding towards the valley, pausing occasionally to hurl shells at each other. “Promise me you won’t hand Kaheen over to the authorities when you get back to Ragah.

“I know you hate her, Ruban.” The crack of a gunshot echoed through the hills, confirming that Simani was among the airborne combatants. “And I know you have every reason to. But, just do me this one favor. She’s no threat to anyone anymore. Just keep her safe until–”

“No.”

Ashwin frowned. “Ruban, be reasonable. This isn’t the time to hold grudges. We’re surrounded, and ridiculously outnumbered. You’re too injured to fight. You need Kaheen’s help to get out of here.”

“I don’t give a shit about Kaheen,” Ruban snarled, lifting his head off the ground with a grunt of effort. “I’m not leaving you here. You think I didn’t learn my lesson the last time? I’m not leaving you behind again.”

For a moment, Ashwin simply stared at him. Then, his body stiffened, silver eyes narrowing into slits. “I don’t need your pity.” His voice was soft and icy. “Nor your guilt, or whatever this is. What happened at the castle was between me and Kaheen. It had nothing to do with you. I could’ve killed Janak Nath and his coterie with a flick of my fingers, if I’d–”

“You think I feel guilty about choosing Simani over you?” Ruban laughed, incredulous.

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“Don’t you? Then what is this handwringing all about? You’re not usually this indecisive.”

“I don’t regret the choice I made in Ghorib.” Ruban sighed. “And I won’t apologize for it. Because that’d imply it was a mistake, and it wasn’t. If I had to do it all over again, I’d make the same choice.”

“I’d expect no less,” Ashwin said impatiently. “So I don’t understand what we’re still arguing about. The vankrai are loyal to Tauheen. I’m Tauheen’s son. They won’t kill me unless they feel like they have to. And you heard Janak at the castle. Even if he’s still alive, it’s you he wants out of his way. He never planned to kill me in the first place.

“Simani is a Hunter, and Kaheen has betrayed the mafia and the Exiles alike. I’m the only one who has any chance of surviving their custody. The Qawirsin and the vankrai both have a reason to keep me alive, but the three of you will be dead the moment they get their hands on you. So you need to get the hell out of here before that happens.”

Ruban shook his head. “I did what I had to do in Ghorib. And I don’t regret it. If Janak had asked for me in exchange for Simani, I would’ve agreed to that as well, without a second thought–”

“I know you would.”

“But this is not the same thing. Not when we still have a chance. I didn’t go through hell these last few weeks just to run away once I’d finally found you.” He glared at Ashwin. “I didn’t realize you considered me such a coward.”

“I don’t consider you a coward,” Ashwin snapped. “Of course not. But you weren’t the only one who went through hell, recently.”

His voice was tight with barely constrained fury, but there was something like pain in there as well. Not knowing why he did it, Ruban averted his eyes. He’d never thought an Aeriel could sound like that.

“And what would have been the point of it all?” Ashwin continued, a slight tremor in his voice. “If, after everything we went through, Simani died here, anyway? Not to mention Kaheen, you, and me. Did we really live through all that just to die in this damp, deserted wasteland?”

“If we die here, tonight, we’d have died fighting.” Ruban spoke quietly, but his voice was firm and unflinching. “There are worse ways to go.”

“You didn’t seem to feel that way in Ghorib.”

“No, I didn’t. Because there’s a difference between dying on the battlefield – something every Hunter is prepared for – and dying in captivity, at the mercy of a man like Janak Nath. I couldn’t bring myself to condemn Simani to that fate.” Ruban coughed to cover up the cracks in his voice. “And now that I have a choice in the matter, I’m not going to condemn you to it, either. Not again.”

A couple of Aeriels swooped over their hiding spot, engaged in fierce midair combat. One of them held out a hand, a nascent energy shell beginning to take shape on its palm.

The second Aeriel split suddenly into two.

Ruban blinked, only to realize that Simani had swung away from Kaheen, who held her securely around the waist. Her legs wrapped around Kaheen’s thighs, Simani swayed forward – her upper body dangling in the air – and plunged her sifblade into the first Aeriel’s chest.

A flash of light illuminated the night sky. With a startled cry, the Aeriel fell out of the air.

Ruban released the breath he’d been holding for the last few seconds.

“I understand what you’re saying, Ruban. And believe me, I appreciate the sentiment.” Ashwin’s voice aborted the vicarious adrenaline rush surging through his veins, as the battle raged overhead. “But I want you lot out of here. And you’ve no reason to feel guilty about it, because you’re not condemning me to anything I don’t richly deserve.

“You probably know this by now. But the reason Kaheen was so easily ensnared by Janak Nath, the reason she killed Dai and all your other friends, is because of what I did to her six hundred years ago.

“She wanted revenge – and she has every right to it. I left her behind on earth, in the middle of a bloody war, when she was nothing more than a child. I promised her I’d come back for her, but I didn’t. And she paid the price for my mistakes and my lies.”

An energy shell detonated less than a foot from their hiding spot.

“And how old were you, when this happened?” Ruban asked calmly. “And don’t give me a stack of zeroes; I don’t care about the exact number. How old were you in human years?”

“That’s irrelevant. Because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not human.”

“Neither is Kaheen. And yet, you called her a child. That’s a human concept, as far as I’m concerned. So, I’ll ask again, how old were you at the time of this grand betrayal? Because I was eighteen – already an adult – when I watched my home burn to the ground, with my father and my girlfriend still inside. All while I stood petrified in the backyard, less than thirty feet away.”

“That’s not–”

“It is, though. It’s the same thing. I can tell, because I know exactly what it’s like to spend every waking minute questioning what right I have to stay alive, when they didn’t. What right I have to be happy, when I was too much of a coward to try and help, even if that just meant dying in that inferno with them.” He exhaled sharply. “Tell me, Ashwin. Does that sound familiar?”

Another shell streaked through the air, heading straight for Kaheen and Simani.

Almost absentmindedly, Ashwin held out a hand, unleashing a shell that clashed explosively with the other before it could reach its target.

Kaheen ducked to avoid the sparks, more for Simani’s sake than her own.

Ashwin plucked Ruban off the ground and took to the air. Moments later, he and Kaheen soared back to back – a Hunter in each of their arms – surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Every inch of his body throbbing with agony, Ruban smiled.

He was probably minutes away from death. And yet, somehow, he hadn’t felt so alive in a long time.