“Fuck,” said Harrow.
The word was followed by the sound of her sliding down the wall as she collapsed to the floor.
Rune’s absence had likely been noticed by now. And it was only a matter of minutes before news of Soren’s murder reached Cressida. Once it did, she would put two and two together.
Soon, every witch and soldier in the palace would be hunting for Rune.
She needed to get Harrow out quickly.
Rune smudged the spellmark on her arm, then used the stolen casting knife to draw enough blood to castTorch. A white flame flared above her open palm, forcing Harrow to glance up.
Surprise flashed across her face, but she hid it almost immediately, smoothing her expression to one as blank as stone.
“Looks like someone tried to have their way with you.”
Rune looked down to discover her bodice torn almost to her waist and the shift beneath showing through.
“He tried,” said Rune. “Now he’s dead.”
Harrow’s head tilted, studying Rune. As if impressed and trying not to show it. The chains of her manacles clinked as she stretched like a cat. Like this was a totally normal conversation under totally normal circumstances, instead of one she was having while imprisoned in a dark cell. “I assume you want something from me. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
Rune stepped forward.
Harrow flinched.
“I won’t hurt you.” Rune crouched, wetting her fingers with blood from the cut she’d made. Taking hold of Harrow’s manacles, she drew the spellmark forPicklock.“I’m going to get you out of here, but we need to be quick. You won’t slow me down, will you?”
“No, ma’am,” said Harrow, studying her beneath the light of that eerie flame.
“Good,” said Rune as the magic rushed out of her, humming in the air.
The manacles fell open, clanking to the stone floor.
Harrow rubbed at her wrists.
Rune rose to her feet.
“Let’s go.”
FIFTY-SIXRUNE
RUNE’S SPELLS KEPT THEMconcealed as they escaped the prison and avoided the guards frantically running the palace halls, clearly searching for someone. By the time they entered the stables, the chaos was behind them. Between the stalls, dust spiraled in golden shafts of light, and the occasional horse whinny broke through the silence.
“Who are they looking for?” asked Harrow.
“The prince is dead,” Rune whispered as a roan mare thrust her head over a stall door to nuzzle her shoulder.Ghost Walkerdidn’t work on animals, whose senses were more advanced. “They’re looking for his killer.”
Harrow fell silent, putting the pieces together.
“Where’s Gideon?” Rune asked her.
“Last I heard, the Blood Guard went west. I imagine they took him with them.”
“West? Do you know where they’re headed?”
Harrow studied her, trying to decide if she was trustworthy. “There’s an abandoned fort on the coast. They call it the Rookery. The plan is to rearm there.”
If they were bringing Gideon with them, it meant they didn’t plan to execute him. With the capital overrun by Soren’s army and Cressida sitting on her throne, the Blood Guard needed all the help they could get. Perhaps Gideon was too valuable to dispose of.
