The Teacher struggled to remain conscious after her brother left. Though her arrow wound ached, Alisi could not let herself be found like this, wounded and weak. With Unwar gone, she pulled the bloodstained robe around her and fought to gather her strength. The ominous figure of the Teacher needed to be visible to trigger any ra’virs who might still be among the Aidenist invaders. This was their last chance.
She fixed the silver mask in place and pulled the hood over her close-cropped dark hair. Walking slowly to hide her faltering steps, the Teacher made her way through the chaos of running soldiers, past numerous dead and dying men who lay akimbo with long arrows sprouting from their bodies. She spotted her brother standing just above the wooden gate, calling for his soldiers to stand firm regardless of the Aidenist archers.
And then the wall exploded.
The blast knocked her backward and she fell sprawling. It was agony to regain her feet, but she paid no attention to the pain. Through the rock dust and smoke, she watched the stone barrier collapse, burying—burying!—her brother. The Teacher scrambled forward, screaming his name through the silver mask.
God’s Barricade came tumbling down. Broken stone blocks, powder, and smoke accompanied the roar, and the Aidenist army flooded through the breach. They trampled the shattered gate, their cavalry horses screaming and rearing as riders urged them into Ishalem.
But Alisi stumbled into the rubble with nothing but the dagger at her side. She was deaf to the premature Tierran victory cries and the defiant shouts as the Urecari fighters rallied. Though she hated the Aidenists, her only concern was for her brother. She knew where he had been standing, and Alisi pulled at broken rocks with her gloved hands. She had begun bleeding again; her bandage was soaked, but she didn’t care. Many Uraban soldiers had been buried under the blocks; she could hear them moaning, dying.
Finally, she spied a swatch of cream cloth, the shirt her brother had been wearing. She called his name and saw his finger twitch, then bent closer to hear a weak groan in response. She pulled some stones away, but could not move the immense blocks that covered him. His legs were crushed; large boulders pressed down on his chest. Unwar was still alive, though blood seeped from his mouth, nose, and ears. She could not free him from the rubble.
The Teacher had long ago given up hopeful dreams, and she could not fool herself that Unwar would be all right, that there was any chance he might survive these terrible injuries. She could not lie to her brother, either; he had never lied to her.
Unwar’s eyes flickered open, and he looked up, saw the silver mask. A faint smile curled his lips. “Alisi…if I’m going to say goodbye…let me see you. Take off the mask.”
Alisi froze, leaning over him. “I don’t dare.” There were too many others around, all fighting or scrambling to help the wounded.
“Dare,” Unwar said. And she had no choice. She removed the silver mask, and his expression changed. “Ah…I had almost forgotten what you look like.” He sighed. “It’s done, now. God’s Barricade has fallen.”
“No! We will still win.” But the cheers of the Aidenists and the sounds of the dying all around them belied her confidence.
“Our fight is over…for now.” Each word was an obvious struggle for him. “But I need you to survive.”
“I will fight and die to defend us.”
“No!” Something stirred in the rocks, and he freed his right arm. His fingers twitched. She took them in her hand, then yanked off her gloves so she could touch his skin once more.
“They will find the Teacher, punish the Teacher,” Unwar said. “So you can no longer be the Teacher.”
“It’s who I am!”
“It’s who you were. Do this for me. Find your own life…happiness, or at least peace. I am so proud of you, but the Teacher is dead. Become Alisi again, please.” His bloody lips smiled. “It’s the best way for you to win against them.”
Her thoughts spun, and she tried to grasp what he meant, not sure it was even possible. How could she stop being the Teacher? She had burned the identity of Alisi on a funeral pyre long ago. That tormented girl was dead.
“Promise me.” He gripped her hand with surprising strength.
“I promise.” Her voice was steadier than she thought it would be, and Unwar believed her. She didn’t say the words merely to comfort him, though, and now she was bound by her word. Already her mind was working out how she might hide her identity. No one could know who the Teacher really was. No one could ask the questions.
In giving him her promise, it was as if Alisi had dismissed him. Unwar let out a long bubbling sigh, and his fingers went slack, releasing hers. He died in the rubble of his great ruined wall.
Alisi knelt like a statue, but she allowed herself only a precious minute to grieve. With the barbaric Aidenists swarming into the holy city, she closed her brother’s eyes. She had made her promise, and now she wrestled with how to keep it.
Though it was difficult to move, and her wound continued to bleed, Alisi shrugged back the hood and struggled out of her signature dark robe. She stood with her chest bandaged, wearing only a simple chalwar. Holding the Teacher’s mask, gloves, and robe, she knew the best way to remove any lingering questions.
Alisi thought back to how she had recreated herself after slitting the throat of Captain Quanas aboard the Sacred Scroll, killing several Aidenist crewmembers, and jumping overboard. After swimming ashore, she had pretended to be a Tierran woman and lived among them for years, learning their ways. Now she would have to learn how to be—or pretend to be—a normal Uraban woman once again. She hoped she had sufficient skill.
Alisi discovered the dead body of a middle-aged soldier in the rubble of the wall. That would do.
While people were fleeing and the Aidenist army flooded into the streets, Alisi moved with painstaking thoroughness. She pulled the loose robes of the Teacher onto the dead soldier’s body, adjusted the hood around his head, pulled the gloves onto his limp hands. As a last gesture, she firmly placed the mask over his face.
She had no idea who this soldier was. He had died in the service of Urec, and now he could serve in one final way.
She took a cloak from the body of another soldier and wrapped herself in it. Ducking down, calling no attention to herself amid the fury of fighting, Alisi—just Alisi—staggered off again. The makeshift bandage on her chest was soaked with blood, but her loose clothing covered it. She slipped away, hiding within the battle itself.