Carver shifted to stand slightly in front of her. “Unless you want to help fix the road, I suggest you get back in your carriage, Zacharias.”
The high cleric’s hands rolled to fists. “You can’t just—”
A pulse of warning slammed into Amryn, so forceful and unexpected, she flinched.
Danger.
She didn’t know if the word had been spoken in her mind, or if she was simplyfeelingit. But that raw, powerful surge of warning had come from the bloodstone. Of that, she had no doubt.
A shiver tracked down her spine. Her first instinct was to cringe away from the bloodstone, but the dread lodged in her veins made that impossible. Hackles raised, she peered through the rain that fell around them. The carriage on her left—where Jayveh and Sadia were still huddled—blocked her view of the jungle on that side, and she could barely make out the closer tree line; everything was hazed by rainfall and thick mist. She couldn’t see any threat.
But one lurked out there.
Her breath hitched. All day, she’d been striving to block out the constant bombardment of emotions. Now, she pushed out with her empathic sense,trying to filter through the many emotions that sparked and seethed around her.Nausea—Jayveh.Irritation—Carver.Aggravation—Zacharias. She reached farther, inviting the more tangled and blurred emotions that surrounded her.Alertness—Jayveh’s guards?Weariness—the servants?Frustration—those looking at the washed-out road?
Then she felt it. The emotion that didn’t belong:Elation.
Zacharias was still berating Carver. “. . . if you think that, you’re a—”
Amryn grabbed Carver’s arm. He instantly turned to her, ignoring Zacharias’s outraged snarl. Concern flared in Carver’s eyes as he took in her expression. “What’s wrong?”
Amryn was painfully aware of the high cleric’s sharp attention on them. She couldn’t tell Carver what she sensed—the growing thrill, the thrum of anticipation, the determination edged with violence. Her gut tightened. “Someone’s out there,” she whispered urgently.
Carver’s dark brows collided. The corded muscles along his arm bunched under her hand. He didn’t ask how she knew, or if she was certain. All he asked was, “Where?”
Her heart thundered in her chest. “I don’t know, but I think—”
An arrow shot through the mist, slicing through the air and slamming into Sadia.
Pain tore through Amryn’s back and shoulder. Her breath shuddered out of her as Sadia’s tortured scream ripped through the storm.
“Ambush!” Carver bellowed.
More arrows volleyed through the mist and rain,thunkinginto the sides of the two carriages—and into bodies. Men cried out and horses shrieked.
Amryn’s knees buckled, pain blinding her. She would have crashed to the muddy ground if Carver hadn’t dragged her into his arms. Scooping her up, he held her tightly against his chest as he bolted for the carriage.
Amryn struggled to breathe. To even think past the onslaught of raging emotions. But she could see Sadia on the ground. She wasn’t moving.
Jayveh was kneeling beside Sadia, but her bodyguards appeared and yanked her to her feet. They ignored her protests as they swept her into the shelter of the carriage. Mira hurried to follow, throwing a terrified look over her shoulder—
An arrow sank into her throat. The maid crumpled, dead before she hit the ground.
Thesnap of her death was horrific, even if Mira’s pain had been brief. A life cut short left a gaping void of nothingness behind. It was a hollowing, agonizing sensation for an empath, dizzying in its intensity.
Amryn retched.
Carver didn’t flinch, just continued to hold her tightly as he ran.
When they reached the carriage, Amryn had stopped vomiting, though her throat and eyes burned. Some of Jayveh’s guards had taken up defensive positions around the carriage, while two had climbed inside with Jayveh.
Carver all but threw Amryn into the carriage before the guards could close the door. “Keep them inside,” he ordered.
Jayveh was huddled on the floor in the corner, a guard crouched right in front of her. The princess’s eyes were rimmed red, stark terror and blistering shock roiling inside her. “Sadia,” she rasped. “She was hit—”
“I’ll get her,” Carver promised. “Stay down.” He spun away, ducking out of view.
Zacharias—who must have been following them—dove into the carriage. Terror was stark on his face as he scrambled to a back corner. He was furiously muttering a prayer, his entire body rocking to the rhythmic words he chanted.
