A nervous pulse beat in Dyna’s veins. Recalling how evasive her cousin had been, Zev must have known about the Seraphim. Why hadn’t he told her about them?
“How do you do … my lord?” Dyna tugged on her skirts, assuring she was covered. She didn’t know how to properly address him, regardless of hanging upside down. He must be the leader by the manner the others looked to him. “I’m sorry to disturb your hunting grounds. I, uh, was passing through to Lykos Peak.”
His eyes narrowed on the glowing, black feather she still held. Dyna quickly let it go, and they watched it float to the ground.
“Pardon me, I meant no offense. I’ll be on my way.” She reached into her corset for her small knife and worked on sawing through the rope.
“You will not.” The leader’s voice was low and rigid. He glanced at another holding a gilded bow, giving a silent command. The archer nocked an arrow and aimed at her.
Dyna’s heart lurched, and everything in her chilled.
“You have trespassed into our land,human,” he spat the word. “And for that, you must be executed.”
Executed? The word rang in her mind like a horrible echo carrying out her sentence. Wander in there about and you will never come out.
“I only meant to pass through!”
Her claim made no difference. With a slight nod, the leader signaled the archer. She cut the rope and plunged as the arrow whizzed through her hair. She landed heavily on an exposed root, leaving her stunned and winded.
The Seraphim flew down. Dyna scrambled backward, pine needles stabbing her palms. The knife shook in her trembling grip as she pointed it at them. It was meant for cutting through stalks, but it was all she had.
A Seraph snatched her arm and twisted it, making her release the knife. They tore away her satchel and rucksack to rifle through.
“Don’t!” She tried to reach for them, but they kicked in her knees and shoved her down to kneel.
The leader approached, his long strides graceful and soundless. They passed him the satchel, and he dumped the contents onto the ground. There wasn’t much: the journal, a small bound notebook, the jars, and a handful of copper coins. He emptied her rucksack next and her clothes and food hit the dirt.
“Unhand my things.” She scowled at him, trying to appear brave, but it fell away when his sharp gaze snapped to her.
The blade of his sword sang as he drew it free. Dazzling white flames burst along the length, and its staggering heat wafted against her face. She recoiled with a gasp. The Seraphs grabbed her and she screamed as they dragged her closer to the fire. Tears evaporated on her cheeks from the unbearable temperature, her hopes, and dreams disappearing with them.
“No, stop! Please don’t do this! My family is waiting for me! My sister needs me!” Nothing she said softened his cold sneer. He meant to send her soul through The Seven Gates—Death’s Gate being the first.
“To whom do you pray?”
She looked up at him through her tears, wishing to have the answer that would save her life. There were many Gods. She believed in only one, but the world had erased his name.
“The God of Urn.” It was a soft prayer and a plea.
His stony expression didn’t change, save for the slight satisfaction in his glare. “Good. May He receive your soul.”
Dyna buckled and kicked to free herself. They twisted her arms behind her back, forcing her to fold forward into submission. Was this how her aunt died, prostrated in the dirt?
She wept, begging them over and over. The sword’s heat drafted against her exposed neck as it lifted above her head. She squeezed her eyes shut. Please!
“Captain Gareel,” a new male voice said. “Do not kill this one.”
Dyna peeked through her lashes. The Seraphim looked up at theHyalusin angry disbelief. At first, she thought the tree had spoken, but another perched there on a branch. The glass leaves hid most of him from sight, except for an arm hanging lazily over a bent knee covered in white silk. A thin beam of sunlight caught on the flute he spun loosely in his fingers.
The leader, whom she assumed was the captain, tightened his fist around the hilt of his weapon. “You know the law of this land, Your Highness.”
“I gave you an order,” the other replied, his tone bored. “Release the human.”
Captain Gareel glared at Dyna with enough hate to send her through Death’s Gate by will alone. She held her breath, awaiting his decision.
After a short pause, he thrust the flaming sword in its sheath, extinguishing the flames. “As you command.”
She wilted in relief. The others removed their vice grip on her, and she tumbled to the ground. Her numb limbs prickled as feeling returned to them. Dyna dove for the journal, shoving it into her satchel and holding it close to her chest. She didn’t dare reach for her clothes by Captain Gareel’s feet.
