Yanking her mane, I directed her toward the northern wall between the gates and the corner turning south. Kicking my heels into her flank, I drove her into a gallop, calling for Whisper to follow. I grabbed onto her neck as she leaped the fence, the hound a pace behind her.
We galloped across the field, in full sight of the guards, heading straight for a dead end.
Focusing on the sensation I’d summoned earlier, I thrust my hand toward the wall, grimacing as the swell of magic swirled within me, begging to be released. Another wave of stagnant, silent air consumed the field before a small section of the wallcrumbled into dust, the grass withered and died, and deep gouges formed in the earth.
I heard the guards shouting before we reached the gap. Athena tore through the broken wall, drawing the gazes of every guard in the vicinity. Glancing behind me, I saw the men on the walls pointing, one drawing a bow before remembering his orders and scrambling to ring the alarm bell instead.
Chimes rang behind me as Athena galloped into the city. More guards patrolling the streets sprang to attention as we blazed past, shouting and drawing their weapons. I flinched as an arrow soared over my head.
These men had no orders to spare me.
Phaedrus said Seraphim and the others were in the dungeons—those would be near the old gallows, in the city center. Using the towering lighthouse as a guide, I navigated Athena through he narrow, winding roads, praying I was heading in the right direction.
Hooves clopping on the cobblestone roads, Athena leaped over an empty wagon and turned into a wide, open field. A raised platform stood ahead of us: this was the place. Eyes flying around wildly, I noticed a large stone building to the west, windows stained and walls worn. That must be the dungeons. Spotting a hitching post nearby, I drove Athena toward it.
Throwing myself off her back, I tied her up and darted away, Whisper at my heel.
Scanning the two-story building, I spotted a cluster of thick bushes under a broad-leafed tree. Sliding into the dirt at its trunk, I ducked beneath the bramble, and Whisper crawled in behind me.
He must have hidden like this with his master countless times.
Holding my breath, I pressed myself to the ground, hoping I was concealed. Watching the streets like a hawk, I counted the guards who ran by, some mounted, others on foot. Lanternsglowed where they passed, and I heard the occasional voice barking orders.
Lifting my head, I strained to overhear, and while I couldn’t make out all the words, I caught enough. One asked where I’d gone, the other didn’t know.
Phaedrus wouldn’t have mentioned me. He didn’t want me hurt or imprisoned. To the guards outside his manor, I was a no-name woman breaking the minor law of riding a horse too fast at night.
Gradually, the activity in the square dimmed, but Phaedrus’s men would doubtless be scouring the city for me soon. “Stay here,” I whispered to the hound, rising and brushing myself off.
I had to bullshit the rest of the way.
Pushing the heavy stone doors open, I entered the dungeon, boots echoing on the tiles. Dim light guided my way forward, and I passed a stairwell leading up. Judicial offices, probably. The last place I wanted to be.
Finding the office I sought, I sheepishly stepped through, catching the attention of the guard sitting inside. He shot to his feet, voice tired and muffled inside his helm. “Sorry, lady. Visiting hours are over.”
Knitting my hands nervously, I approached him. “I know! But my father won’t let me come see him, and I can’t slip out during the day. . .”
I batted my eyelashes, played my best whimpering maiden, and pulled the coin purse off my belt, forcing a tremble into my fingers. “Will this be enough to convince you?”
The guard stared at my offer, took the pouch, and made a rough count of its contents. “Do you know which cell block he’s in?”
“I. . . I’m not sure. I’ll know him when I see him.”
Sighing heavily, the guard felt the weight of the bag and set it down. Grabbing a lantern from a hook on the wall, he beckoned. “This way. We’ll find him.”
Hiding a grin, I scurried after him, holding my cloak tightly around my arms. The guard led me to a heavy iron door and paused to unlock it. Ushering me through, he locked it again once we stood on the other side. Pocketing his key, he guided me down a set of stairs into dark halls.
“Keep your eyes out,” he instructed.
Nodding, my eyes flashed between every cell, peering through the iron bars. Some were empty, others held men and women I’d never laid eyes on. Surely they were here. They had to be.
A shout echoed somewhere to our north. I couldn’t make out what they said, but the following words carried clearly. “I don’t care!” A man snapped. “My son will be prosecuted, not made a victim of your superstition.”
Percy. That was his father’s voice. Eyes widening, I gazed down the hall from which the voices had come. Stepping back, the guard changed courses, leading me east. “Let’s go this way, first.”
Shit. Were they all imprisoned together? Eyeing the guard’s tabard, I wondered how easily I could pick his pocket. . .
Gnawing on my lip, I kept checking each cell until I found a familiar face.
