Mirren.
My heart seizes.Too long. I took too long.
I bend down to yank the dagger out of the unconscious soldier’s leg, desperation clawing at my throat, but I freeze as a sword presses to my throat.
I hear words from so long before.Emotion is deadly. Fear, love, rage. You are a weapon and weapons do not feel. Weapons do not hesitate.
Mirren’s scream paused the very beat of my heart and in turn, I allowed myself to be ambushed from behind. A fraction of a moment’s hesitation and I’ve doomed us both.
I stand up slowly, arms raised above my head. The soldier must be as tall as I am, if not taller, because the sword at my throat doesn’t waver. Its blade is a cold, steady pressure against my windpipe. A revolver presses against the back of my neck and I force myself not to shy away from it, to remain completely still.
Mirren screams again and I don’t even wonder how I know it’s her, how its sound reverberates in my bones and radiates under my skin. I tense, weighing the chances of disarming my attacker blindly. Of the probability of accidentally slitting my own throat on their blade in the process.
“Ah, now, don’t go running off. My men will bring the girl and then we can all really have some fun together,” the deep voice rumbles and scrapes and just like that, the chasm inside me explodes. I grit my teeth, burning wrath cloaking everything around me in an alarming shade of red and all I can hear is that voice threatening Mirren.
Shivhai.
He presses his blade harder against my throat and I force myself to swallow against it.
“I wondered when you’d show your face here again.Shaw.”
ChapterSixteen
Mirren
Asa and I head west, toward the green mountains bordering the camp. It’s where Shaw entered, silencing the two guards before anyone knew he was there. While he assured me he hadn’t killed them, he was confident they would still be out of commission. Not in a position to debate the morality of it, I can only hope whatever Shaw did holds long enough for us to sneak past and disappear into the cave system.
The throng of people behind me is tense and quiet, but their footsteps are loudly discordant against the soft night. My heart beats in my throat, and for a moment, I swear the sound of their collective breath is as loud as a fall wind. At any moment, any of the hundreds of soldiers in this camp could wake. There will be no mercy, no cage. There will only be slaughter and it will be my fault.
A strangled howl rises from the other side of camp and goosebumps rise on my flesh. The sound echoes from where Shaw is and for a moment, I freeze, my heart clenching. Fear winds its way around my limbs, tightening uncomfortably. Fear for Shaw, or fear that the noise will awaken more soldiers, I don’t know.
Asa touches my arm gently. The little boy he carries has fallen asleep and my heart lurches at the thought of someone like Shivhai hurting him the way he tried to hurt me. “We must hurry, brave one. The Praeceptor will return, and they will descend.”
I nod and force my feet to move. To go faster. I won’t let that little boy be trapped by my web of fear and self-doubt. We hurry forward in silence, going as fast as we dare. The edge of the camp feels miles away, but I tell myself it’s close. I tell myself a lot of things in these moments: that Shaw is fierce and will survive to meet us at the caves; that I’m ridiculous—he kidnapped me and I shouldn’t care whether he survives at all. I tell myself that I’m choosing the lives of these strangers over the life of the one person in the world that matters to me; and then, that Easton would be proud to know I did.
Finally, the edge of the camp comes into view. Three guards are crumpled unceremoniously on the ground, their legs sticking out at awkward angles as if they simply fell asleep where they stood. I wonder briefly if it’s the same trick Shaw used on me or something more nefarious.
A sound rustles in the tent next to us, followed by a shout of anger and my elation swiftly dissipates. Someone has woken.
Asa turns toward the sound, his face leeched of color.
“Go,” I mouth at him, gesturing furiously at the unconscious guards. “Run. Follow the stream to the west. There’s a cave with a willow leaning over it. The caves go for miles. Disappear until you’re well enough to move on.”
He shakes his head frantically. The little boy is gripped tightly in his arms. “We can’t leave you—"
“Cover your tracks. Don’t disturb the forest branches. Disappear as fully as you can.”
“You must come with us!” Asa cries desperately.
“You’re responsible for these people. Save them!” Asa doesn’t move. Everyone comes to a stand-still behind him. “I have a friend in the camp. He’ll help me,” I push him bodily until he begins to move. “Go!”
“I will never forget this. I will repay you in this life or the next. The Xamani always settle their debts.”
I nod once and with one last meaningful stare, Asa finally moves. Their pace is achingly slow. There are too many to move any faster. I need to buy them time.
My heart leaps into my throat as I run toward the sound of the soldiers. Shaw explained that it takes time to mobilize a militia of this size and if the slaves can just get hidden, the trail will have gone cold. I can only hope he’s right.
The soldiers run toward the edge of camp, so I tuck the dagger into my pocket and head them off. I veer directly in front of them, slipping into the girl I was earlier. The crying, traumatized victim of Shivhai isn’t a stretch. I can already feel the bruises on my legs from where his hands gripped me, and I don’t need a mirror to know that a nasty welt has arisen on my cheek.
