“We can scout ahead when needed or lie and say we’re escorting her to a new cell,” Ember says, impatience hastening her words. “It’s better than waiting for who knows how long. They’re going to find out she’s missing soon, and that will put them on high alert.”
Something is off…It’s like a chill in the air—a subtle shift that has the hairs on my arms rising. My skin prickles to gooseflesh. I’ve no reason for it, but it’s as though an evil specter just passed through the room.
But they’re right. We can’t stay. And I’ve no solid reason to object.
Bracing myself, I gather my courage and say, “Let’s go.”
Lucan’s head turns sharply, searching me. Looking to me as though I am the sole decider of what we do next. “Are you sure?”
I don’t flinch. “I want to—need toget out of here. Ember is right. We should move before more Mercy Knights spread through the tower or raise the alarm.”
Lucan hesitates a second longer and then nods once. He pulls his hood forward, and the other two do the same. The motion has a sense of finality to it, and my heart slams against my ribs. We emerge into the hall, and when the door clicks softly back into place behind us, it somehow feels louder than the ominous toll of dragon bells.
Ember and Myla take the lead, heads down, hoods pulled low. Lucan stays at my side, close enough that I can feel his perpetual warmth. Close enough that I’m fighting grabbing his hand for comfort.
We emerge from the side hall into the vertical heart of Mercy Spire. It’s just like Pia said, sloping up and down in a gentle curve—like a corkscrew—with the same plain, plastered walls punctuated with dragon sconces as everywhere else in MercySpire. We move deliberately down, every footstep seeming louder than the last. Somehow, the silence is even more deafening.
There aren’t any signs of life until heavy footsteps rise from below.
Myla and Ember glance back. There isn’t any time to discuss before a Mercy Knight crests the curve of the pathway.
As his chin lifts, Lucan grabs my arm with a firm grip.
The twins nod and tug their hoods forward even more, casting their faces in deeper shadow. Lucan does the same as the Mercy Knight raises his eyes. The shift in him is instant. His jaw drops. There’s recognition, then suspicion, but beneath it all is something uglier—something I’ve never seen from a citizen of Vinguard: hate.
“Look who we’ve captured,” Lucan says triumphantly, squaring his shoulders. “No doubt trying to escape her punishment. Dragon sympathizeranda coward.” He’s a little too good at putting hatred in his voice. It almost stings.
“Excellent. We need to put her somewhere secure before she can manage to slip through our fingers again.” The knight’s expression shifts as his scowl breaks into a wide grin.
“I couldn’t agree more.” The chill in Ember’s words couldn’t feel more real.
“Follow me. There’s a room with a good lock just around the bend we can put her in, for now, until we get shackles.” He turns and begins starting down the way he came—the direction we were headed.
A series of glances are exchanged as we move. Myla and Ember catch each other’s eyes. Then Myla looks back to Lucan, who nods; meanwhile, Ember’s head shifts slightly. We’re all going along with this for now, but I can sense what’s unspoken: they’re waiting for the right place to strike.
We’ve just rounded the bend when there’s a flash of silver. Theknight lunges for Ember, barely missing her chin. Myla lunges into his side with a grunt, shoving him away. My heart pounds in my throat as I watch the dagger sweep over her head.
The knight recovers, positioning himself ahead of us, down the slope. As though he knows where we’re heading. “Don’t make another move.”
“It’s four against one.” Myla steps forward, already sinking into a crouch, hands balled into fists. “You think you’ll get us all before we take you?”
“And we have Valor’s power,” Lucan says confidently.
Panic hits me, and I swallow thickly, trying to look confident. Trying to back him up. But I never promised this. I wanted to escape—to get out from under the Creed. Not attack random Mercy Knights.
He could’ve been Saipha, in another world.
The thought has my throat tightening.
“Put the dagger down and you won’t die,” Ember says firmly.
The knight just smirks. Footsteps echo from deeper ahead. A voice twice as vile as the acid of a green dragon oozes through the passageway.
“I don’t think he will.” Vicar Darius steps into view from around the curve of the tower. Robed in blood red, his eyes alight with triumph.
He doesn’t come alone. Two Mercy Knights flank him, dragging Dazni and Pia. The ashborn are bloodied, bruised, and barely able to support themselves. Both have blades pressed to their throats. Four more knights are close behind.
“If you value their lives, you will do as I say.”
