“No!” Leya’s voice cracked. “No, that’s not true! I haven’t told him anything, I swear! I ran because you did. I didn’t understand why back then, but I do now. I do!”
The bartender sighed loudly. “If this is some spat over your contract holders, there’s no need to hash it out here. This is Rook’s End, nothing that can’t be smoothed over with a little ale.” He motioned to us with a nod. “Come, have a seat.”
Meric chuckled. “Well, I’ll admit, your ale certainly got in the way of something.” He slid onto a barstool, completely at ease. “I’m a bit ashamed of last night, Eva—uh, Odessa. I’m still heading out to Yserath at sunrise. Join me for a drink? Bring your friend along if you like. Sigrid and I would welcome the company.”
The bartender had already poured three mugs and slid them across the counter, nodding toward us. “Barrel’s new. Just tapped it.”
My head was pounding, my vision splintered with flashes of black and white. That cynical voice inside me had warned that something like this was bound to happen. It turned its focus to Meric and the bartender, sensing the odd calmness in the air. Everything about them was wrong, too controlled, too easy. Leya, by comparison, looked completely adrift.
My instincts were sharp, and I could feel it in my bones.
Gadriel knew.
They knew.
And we were in grave danger.
I breathed to Leya, “Run.”
Before I could hesitate, I grabbed her arm and sprinted for the backdoor. She stumbled, tripping over the hem of her dress, but obeyed my command.
“Stop them!” the bartender shouted. “Don’t let them leave!”
I didn’t look back. I could feel Meric’s footsteps pounding behind us, the bartender just seconds behind him. I wouldn’t risk a glance, wouldn’t risk slowing down. My blood roared in my ears, adrenaline pushing me forward. The backdoor was shut tight and I knew better than to try the latch. I threw my weight into it, shoulder-first, driven by desperation. Wood cracked and gave way under the impact as we burst through.
The night sky hadn’t fully lifted, but the horizon was softening. Sunrise was near.
I made for the stables, a silent plea in my chest: let Sigrid be there. I’d only ridden Bellona for a summer, but I remembered the strength in her gait, the calm in her eyes. Riding Sigrid would be no different. I forced myself to believe it.
As I turned the corner, a lantern cast light on a young stable hand, no older than fourteen, shoveling the floor. My gut clenched. Another witness. Another risk. Frustration flickered in my chest. We needed fewer eyes,not more.
Four horses waited in the stable. Relief hit hard when Sigrid was among them.
I pushed past the stable hand, Leya still clinging to my arm, breathing hard but whole. My hands flew to the stall’s wall, fumbling for the rope rung. I unfastened it as quickly as I could. The rope dropped, and I threw myself onto Sigrid’s back. Whatever reassurance I gave her last night must’ve lingered. The mare was jumpy, but she was more startled than scared, and she let me mount without a fight.
“You there, stop them!” Meric shouted at the stable hand. “They’re fugitives! Wanted by the Crown!”
“A royal bounty is on both their heads!” the bartender shouted, his voice rising just above Meric’s.
“Get on!” I shouted, reaching for Leya. “We have to go. Now!”
Her eyes were wild, scared and lost, but she didn’t hesitate. She gripped my hand and I pulled her up behind me.
“Hold my waist,” I told her, voice hard. “If you let go, you fall. And I won’t turn back for you.”
I dug my heels in and Sigrid reared, letting out a sharp whinny, then launched forward as the first light of dawn spilled over us. We tore out of the stables, thundering past Meric and the bartender. Our hooves pounded the cobblestones, their sound quickly swallowed by a city that had just begun to wake.
31
I couldn’t hear Leya.I couldn’t hear the cityfolk or the thunder of our own hooves as we tore through the streets of Falhurst.
Only one thought pounded through my skull, over and over:
Gadriel knows. Gadriel knows. Gadriel knows.
He would hunt me to my last breath.
Somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself I had more time, that his sight hadn’t yet turned toward me. But I was wrong.
