I draw my gaze away from Em. Her death wasnotmy fault. “You shouldn’t misuse the name of the Fath—” I begin, raising my hand to tap my forehead.
“Oh, just stop that, will you?” Llyr grabs hold of my arm before I have a chance to make the reverent gesture. “Let me have a look at your brace. You will not get far as long as Coperie has the mother piece in his home, not to mention he can track you down as easily as if you were sitting right next to him.” Llyr moves his finger in an intricate pattern across the small symbols, and with a click, the brace opens.
My gaze darts to him, then to the now-open brace, then back again. “How...?” The metal falls to the ground, and a wave of dizziness washes across me as I am hit with a flood of impressions—sounds sharper, colors brighter, sensations I haven't felt in a decade rushing back all at once.
“Whoa there.” Llyr grabs hold of me. “Take it easy.”
His gaze glides across the two dead guards before stopping at Emma. He gives her a flat stare, eyes narrowed, then turns toward me. “Come. We need to leave before a new set of guards arrives.” He nods toward the pass. “Let’s get out of here.”
I snatch my satchel and swing my legs over the edge. This time I don't object.
The deep darkness envelops us, providing ample concealment as we run. For once, I’m grateful both for the lack of light and the somber attire.
When we reach the tree line, Llyr grabs my hand to pull me along, guiding us deeper into the woods, farther than I’ve ever gone before. The canopy is so much thicker here, like the forest itself is trying to prevent anyone from escaping.
A sudden neigh pierces the unnerving quiet.
My heart races in my chest as I tug on Llyr’s hand. “Is there someone there?” I whisper, but Llyr doesn’t answer. He keeps pulling me along, though, so I can only assume he knows what he’s doing.
“Horses,” he says as we step into a small clearing. “Makes for easier travel.”
Upon seeing me, the black mare whinnies sharply, her breath puffing out in white clouds as she shakes her head.
“YoustoleMaeve?”
He shrugs. “She doesn’t belong here any more than you do.”
“That doesn’t give you the right tostealher.” I give him a withering stare. “I might not like Master Coperie, but I’m no thief.”
“That is excellent”—he hands me the reins—“but unless you want to be imprisoned again, I suggest you get on the horse.” Turning toward his beautiful dapple-gray pinto, he runs a hand along its soft muzzle, whispering something unintelligible, then mounts the tall stallion with practiced grace.
I shoot him a sharp look, then decide I value my life more than honesty for the time being and do as he says.
We make our way up toward the pass in silence. The path is overgrown with dense underbrush and slows us more than I’d like. Never in my life have I thought I would yearn for the pass, but right now, I want nothing more than for the dark fold to envelopus. The rising feeling of unease grows more powerful as we approach, and Maeve needs increasingly stronger encouragement to maintain her speed. Leaning down, I stroke her neck. “It’s all right. Llyr thinks we’ll be safer on the other side,” I whisper.If we survive the journey.
Llyr’s features are pulled into a deep frown as he stares down toward the city. Easing Maeve to a halt beside him, I shiver as a blast of icy air from the mountain pass rushes past, the wind’s sharp, piercing cry echoing through the high walls. If there was ever a sound of impending doom...
I follow his gaze, and the sight makes my eyes go wide. The city, which has been shrouded in a thick gray blanket of mist for as long as I’ve lived, is now in plain sight. It is also very much awake. I stare at the countless flickering orbs of light moving through the city. Torches. They’re everywhere, illuminating the streets and buildings, and given the strict ban, it’s clear they’re searching for someone. Me.
Llyr curses under his breath.
“How long until they get here?” I ask. We haven’t exactly had time to cover our tracks. Our trail is as wide and obvious as a freshly plowed field; they’re bound to trace us, sooner rather than later. He doesn’t even bother to answer.
“Move!” he yells over his shoulder before he spurs off in a gallop.
I stare after his broad back as he disappears into the narrow opening of the pass. Despite the torches illuminating Bronich in search of me, a part of me is still reluctant to go.
“What do you think, Maeve?” I whisper softly. “Should we go in there?” Now that I’m free of my brace, I could always hide in the woods, couldn’t I? No one could trace me anymore. I could stay far away from people, live off of the land...
Maeve shakes her head, pulling on the reins.
I cock my head. “You want to go?”
She neighs, scraping the ground with her hoof.
Staring at the swirling mist that rises from the dark fold ahead, I rub the smooth black stone of the dagger in my pocket. At least I can defend myself if it comes to that.
“All right. Let’s do this.” I shift my weight in the saddle, signaling for Maeve to move, and with one last glance toward Bronich, we set off into the pass.
