Thanks for reading, reviewing, and hopefully enjoying. This is the end, 25 300 words!! This chapter is 970 words, sans author notes.


I suppose approaching the great, golden doors, only to discover the two crumpled, bloody forms was our first warning of yet more carnage to come. I had definitely been a girl too long; instead of assessing the situation in a calculating manner as the knight appeared to be doing, I took a step back and resisted all temptation to clamp my hand over my mouth. It clearly was not a good day to be a palace guard.

"Maybe they didn't colour-co-ordinate to his satisfaction?" Kalasin suggested, oddly light-hearted, though her grip on my hand was becoming unbearably tight. She took in a deep breath, and I felt a swell of pride for how strong she was being. Now, I had to repress the temptation to kiss her. There was a time and a place for such things, and just before meeting your former torturer didn't fulfil either category.

"Time to pay our respects to our most esteemed King."

She pushed the door. Instinctively, I pulled her back, allowing Alanna, then myself, to go first. The room sparkled with splendour that one might expect of Ozorne, but the Princess Pretender was apparently the only occupant of it, tears dripping down her cheeks. Her snivellings filled the air and she was kneeling over something, but she looked up as she heard our arrival. She dismissed Alanna immediately, gave me an incomprehensible look, before turning her attention to Kalasin. "You found me."

Kalasin was having difficulty containing her rage and she trembled all over. "Where is he?"

The other girl raised a dark eyebrow, and then stepped down, permitting us a full view of the recently deceased Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe. This time, I tried not to be repulsed, and even managed to move closer, feigning interest rather than disgust, though I was unable to crouch down and prod the corpse as Alanna was doing. Never mind, maybe I would do better with the next carcass.

"Definitely him," she confirmed, rising once more.

Ozorne's accomplice turned to Kalasin. "I killed him with your dagger," she said earnestly, offering it for closer examination. I swallowed, hard, trying to ignore the light feeling in my head. An insane girl holding a dagger was hardly a comfortable situation to be in. "I – I thought it – fitting." Her voice was cracking slightly, although I was unable to tell whether it was affected or not. Maybe she had played the game so long it had become part of her.

Kalasin's breathing was uneven. "So?" she asked coldly. "Did you really think that would redeem you? Did you honestly believe that stealing something else of mine would – would, what, let you off?" Her eyes were visibly sparking with hatred. "You killed my father. One of you did, and since he is dead, you leave me no option but to avenge him by killing you."

I took a step back, somewhat uncomfortable. I didn't understand this... thirst for revenge that they both seemed to have. My father had been a distant, regal figure and my mother had hung on his every word. Neither had been interested in me. I had thought that I shared this with Kalasin, this exclusion from family life. Perhaps this desire to avenge him was an attempt to feel included?

The girl gulped, squeezing her eyes tightly shut for a moment. "It was me. He told me to, but I did it." She inhaled sharply. "So, I suppose you have every right to kill me." She extended her arm, holding out the dagger to anyone willing to take it.

Kalasin lunged for it, but Alanna was quicker, knocking it out of her hands and sending it clattering to the ground. "Don't let her make you into a murderer," she warned. Slowly, almost as if it pained her, Kalasin nodded.

A bubble of laughterburst from the impostor's lips. "It'd just be another thing we have in common." Her eyes, bloodshot and pained, opened and locked with Kally's. "We're very similar, you and I. I enjoyed every minute of killing your father. Just like you're going to enjoy killing me."

Kalasin pressed her hands to her ears, her expression fierce. "No. I'm not listening. I won't!" I didn't blame her. I couldn't figure out what the girl's intentions were. Was she just goading Kally, or did she want to die?

She certainly seemed desperate, her eyes travelling over the room, her mind presumably searching for an – any – escape route. Finally, her gaze came to rest on me and I shuddered. Those eyes were full of a torrent of emotions, which I could never even begin to empathise with. Tormented eyes, for a tormented soul.

I hadn't noticed that she'd moved closer, almost close enough for our breath to mingle. "Lagne Halai. Shall I make you mine as well?" she whispered, though I was sure Kalasin didn't miss a syllable and I was sure the impostor didn't intend for her to. "You knew me, didn't you? From the start, you knew me." She took a step back – I assumed she had come to her senses and was going to run away. "I'm yours."

Apparently I had been wrong. "No, you're not," I replied, struggling to assert myself. "You're-"

"I'm his," Kalasin interrupted. I darted a quick look at Alanna, who didn't bat an eyelid at the confession. "None of this is yours. It's my name. My clothes. My father. My family. It's all mine. He's mine."

"I don't think you're entirely right there, your highness," Alanna said thoughtfully, picking up the discarded dagger which the impostor had begun to shift towards. "In fact, I'm almost certain that there is a lovely place on Traitor's Hill especially for her. Of course," she added hastily, "she won't be heading there immediately. We have to give her the right impression of Tortall since we seemed to have failed so dismally up until now. A nice long stretch in prison first might be just the trick."

At that, the impostor attempted to bolt, but the lady knight had been ready for this. She caught the girl easily and held her firmly, hands tightly gripping the girl's upper arms.

"I'll go get the guards," Kalasin said, with only a slight hint of reluctance. She shot the impostor a venomous look.

I caught Kalasin's hand as she turned to leave. "I am, you know."

She frowned, tilting her head back, so she could read my expression. "You are what?"

"Yours."