What happens to Wendel? 1913 ONE Ardis trudged across the blood-churned earth, blinking as the wind whipped spindrift snow into her eyes. Her arm ached, but she kept a good grip on Chun Yi, her sword. Above, the drone of zeppelins heralded the advance of the medics who would decide the fate of the men and women lying broken on the ground. Ardis tugged her scarf over her nose, trying not to gag at the stench of diesel and blood. She should hurry. She couldn’t see the height of the sun behind the clouds. The battle was over, but a storm was coming. Ardis walked quietly among the wounded, giving distance to rebels in their ragtag uniforms. Her enemies looked helpless, but she could hear their groans and prayers. Her fingers tightened around the sharkskin hilt of Chun Yi, and she hoped— Movement. A man staggered to his feet. His mane of black hair flew in his face, hiding it, and his ragged breath fogged the air.
