FINN’S SACRIFICE The air in the throne room was thick with dust and the smell of old tapestries burning. Esmeralda could barely breathe. Her sword felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, her fingers cramped around the hilt. Across the room, the last of the King’s elite guards were circling them like wolves.

"They just won't stop," Finn panted, stepping up beside her. His face was streaked with soot, and his left sleeve was torn away, showing a nasty scrape. "How many more of them are ...