“Don’t kill her!” someone yelled. “The king wants her alive!”
Lucky me. But this luck wasn’t going to hold long.
“Just shoot to injure!”
My lungs burned as I pushed harder, rushing toward the eastern tower. Pain sliced through my calf, and I cried and stumbled, catching myself on the wall before I could fully fall. Hot red blood seeped through my ripped jean leg where an arrow had clipped it. My heart dropped to my stomach. I had to move. Now.
I limped forward, gritting my teeth as each step sent shockwaves of burning pain through me. I clenched my teeth, blood soaking my sock. I had to hurry, or I could bleed out.
I glanced back. Two heavy wooden ladders had been set against the courtyard wall, and four guards had begun climbing up. The door I’d come through was now open, a guard alreadyin the doorway with his sword lifted. The one guard who’d been closest in sight was halfway to me now, his boots thundering on the pavestones.
The tower door was ten steps away.
Nine.
Eight.
Another arrow struck the stone inches from my foot.
“If you kill her, he’ll have our heads, Bren!” someone shouted from behind me. "Stop shooting! She's already wounded!"
"We've got to slow her down more. She's fast," someone—possibly Bren—responded.
I slammed into the door, my fingers scrabbling for the latch. The overhang offered some shelter in case Hotshot Archer decided I needed more injuries.
Locked.
Of course it was locked. But I had the keys.
“Surrender, woman! You can’t get away!” the guard nearest me yelled as he reached the corner and charged. His voice echoed off the stones around us.
I dragged the keys free and shoved the first key into the lock. I took a deep breath and turned.
Wrong.
Fuck. I tried the next one. Wrong again.
The third with the squared teeth fit, and the heavy metal gave a satisfying click. I wrenched the door open and threw myself inside.
The guard was almost on me. I turned to look back in time to see him coming at me as he ran through the pool of torchlight, his blue eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
I shoved the door shut and locked it, then glanced around. A single torch burned on the wall, which I hoped meant no one was in here.
The watchtower smelled of oil, old smoke, and sweat, and was smaller than my bedroom at Aunt Maureen's. There was a door on the opposite side from me, and a ladder poked through a trapdoor in the floor. Another trapdoor was situated above me with a ladder cutting up through that square, too. I knocked the two ladders out as I heard something rustling from above, possibly a couple of floors away. They were probably coming down from the tower.
Racks lined the walls, the one closest to me on my right holding arrows. I grabbed a handful and started wedging their narrow, finely hammered metal-tipped heads into the crease where the door met the hinge and the wall to make it harder to open. Though I didn't have enough strength to shove them in deep, it would cause a bit of a problem.
A heavy fist banged on the door. "You can't hide in there forever!" Blue Eyes shouted.
"Watch me! Oh, wait. You can’t!" I shouted back.
Metal scraped against the door near the lock and jangled. Did he have keys? I jammed an arrow into the lock opening.
"Hey!" Blue Eyes' outraged voice sounded on the other side, followed by another heavy thump, as if he’d struck the door.
I jammed the arrow in harder. "That's what you get for having such tiny-headed arrows!"
"You mal-malevolent harpy!" His voice cracked, as if he were genuinely shocked.
