When the palace fell to the rebels, my fight
was over. The fire that burned within me had been extinguished with
Makena’s tears, and my anger smoldered like a dying blaze. I felt
betrayed—I thought I had taught her more than just the moves and
motions of a Warrior; I thought she had learned and accepted our
beliefs and our way of life. Makena had been more than my
neophyte—the years we spent in constant preparation and practice
had made us friends. A friendship forged in the steel of our souls,
or so I had believed. I had hoped to fight alongside her in the
rebellion; I had looked forward to many more battles, many more
years together.
I decided then that I would never mentor
another girl into the Warriors’ way again.
Through the next few years, the new king
created a formida
