Beyond the wards.
My heart sinks into my stomach as hope withers within me. I have been taken. For what purpose, I do not know. By whom, I do not know. All I do know for sure is that it is no one’s fault except my own.
I trusted Penn when he said no one could get to me in the capital. I thought myself safe within the protective cradle of the crater, shielded from outside evils by an invisible barrier. I fancied myself untouchable in my new existence at the palace. And so, I had let down my guard, had dropped my constant vigilance.
All for…what? A handful of steady meals? A place to rest my head? A chest of warm clothes? A bit of kinship?
For that, I traded my life.
I am no better than a starving alley cat, won over with a few tossed scraps.
How quickly I settled into new patterns at the palace. How fast I forgot that I never meant to stay—not in Caeldera, not with Penn. Not permanently.
Where was my sense of self-preservation?
Where was the foundation of logic on which Eli raised me?
I had lost sight of everything that kept me alive, everythingthat carried me through those long months on the run. And now I would face the consequences.
My pulse leaps when we lurch to a stop. Muffled male voices call out to my captor, asking for his credentials. We are at a security checkpoint. Hope surges anew. But just as I am about to begin banging on the side of the wagon with my bound hands, my captor responds to the men in the tower, his voice gruff as it carries back to them through the twilight.
My soul stills along with my body.
I know that voice.
Recognize it.
“Mycredentials? I am Second Lieutenant Gower of the Ember Guild,” he snarls. “I don’t appreciate being delayed. Let’s move it along, shall we?”
Gower!
There is a tense beat of silence. “We haven’t heard anything about a transport…”
“Nor would you. This is Prince Pendefyre’s personal business.”
“Of course,” the guard hedges. “But you must understand, we have certain protocols…”
My dazed mind struggles to make sense of this unexpected turn of events. Perhaps Gower has taken me on Penn’s orders?
I dismiss the possibility almost as quickly as it arises. Penn would never allow anyone to lay a hand on me, let alone throw me into the back of a wagon under the cover of darkness and sneak me out of the city.
In a swift resurgence of desperation, I thump my bound fists against the side of the wagon hard enough to bruise. I scream, but the sound barely permeates the gag around my face. I yank it roughly down and try again.
“Help!” I yell. “Help! Back here!”
“What in gods’ name is—”
The guard’s question cuts off abruptly as Gower vaults from the driver’s seat, his body weight jolting the wagon. I scramble toward the slot-like window at the front. I can see nothing. Nothing except the short, stubby manes of the two mules. But what I hear paints a clear enough picture.
The slide of a sword pulling free from its scabbard. A brief scuffle, thudding limbs, and traded blows. A short scream of pain. And then…
Chilling silence.
When Gower’s face, red with exertion, appears on the other side of the slotted window, I backpedal so quickly I go down on my ass in a tangle of skirts. I stare up into his cold, dead eyes as waves of despair wash over me.
The guards are dead.
And with them, my chance at escape.