Her shoulder slammed against something mounted on the wall—a torch, she realized as pain shot down her arm. The impact loosened it from its bracket, sent it wobbling.
"Watch what ye're?—"
The torch fell.
Time seemed to slow. Ada watched it tumble end over end, trailing sparks like a falling star. The burning end hit the ground with a shower of orange embers that scattered across the dried rushes someone had laid down for cleaning.
Small flames caught. Spread across the floor toward a wooden crate.
"Damn it!" One of the men released her arm to stamp at the growing fire. "Put it out before?—"
Ada took her chance. Twisted hard, broke free of the other man's grip with a burst of desperate strength.
She didn't get two steps before he caught her again. Spun her around, and in the flickering firelight she finally saw his face.
Not Donnan. Someone else. A guard she'd seen around the keep, one of the men who'd come with her from her father's lands.
One of her father's spies.
"Stupid lass," he snarled, his face twisted with fury and growing fear as the flames spread faster. "Look what ye've done!"
The fire was spreading now, flames licking up the side of the wooden crate and onto the stacked barrels beside it. Smoke began to fill the small storage room, thick and choking. The heat grew intense.
The man grabbed her roughly, threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Ada's ribs screamed in protest, her breath driven from her lungs.
"We're leavin'. Now. Before this whole place burns down."
"What about the fire?—"
"Tae hell with the fire! Move!"
They burst through the outer door into the night. Cold air hit Ada's overheated skin, made her gasp against the gag. Shecould see the postern gate ahead, small and unguarded in the darkness.
Behind them, a shout went up from somewhere above. Then another.
Someone had seen the smoke. Seen the flames through a window.
"Fire!" The cry echoed through the keep, high and urgent. "Fire in the kitchens!"
The alarm bells began to ring.
CHAPTER 22
Magnus was already moving when the alarm bells began to ring.
Every instinct he possessed screamed danger, and his body reacted before his mind could catch up.
Ada.
"The kitchens," someone shouted from down the corridor. "Fire in the kitchens!"
Fire. Inside the keep. Where Ada was sleeping. Where he'd left her safe behind a bolted door.
Magnus ran.
His boots pounded stone, the sound lost beneath the clamor of bells and shouting men. Behind him, Torvald was calling something—orders, questions, Magnus didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered was reaching their chamber. Reaching Ada.
He took the stairs three at a time, his heart slamming against his ribs. Smoke drifted through the corridor now, thin wispsthat stung his eyes and caught in his throat. The acrid smell of burning wood mixed with something else. Oil, maybe. Something that made the flames spread faster than they should.
