“I want to join the ranks of the Princess Anastacya,” the yaeger said.
Linn forced her face to be a mask, a mirror, reflecting his.
He continued, “In two days’ time, when I’ve had enough time to make the necessary preparations, I will come for you, at the midnight shift. And we will leave this place, together.”
Two days. Her thoughts whirled.
The yaeger raised his dagger, and this time, Linn couldn’t help but shrink back. “Are you going to hurt me?”
Something shifted in his eyes—the faintest melting of ice. “I am a soldier, Kemeiran, trained on the Cyrilian values of honor and dignity. I imagine you have similar values in Kemeira. Should we duel again, it will not be when you are chained and starved and reeling from your guard’s last beatings.”
The yaeger brought the blade down on his own finger with striking accuracy.
Blood welled at his cut, dripping onto the floor. Linn stood very still as the yaeger touched his bloodied hand to her cheek, her neck, her grimy clothes.
He knew. He knew that Vasyl would beat her if he saw no traces of blood on her.
Gratitude stirred briefly in her heart before she stomped it down. This man was dangerous—this man was the enemy, a threat to Ana if she believed him. He was trying to buy her favor with some preplanned acts of kindness.
In two days, at midnight, he would come for her.
And he would find her cell empty, her long gone.
The yaeger’s hands were infinitely gentle as he dabbed her in his blood. But Linn’s thoughts were already elsewhere, a plan beginning to form in her mind. Ana had told her that the Redcloaks’ base was in Goldwater Port; it was the only place Linn could think of that she might find some clues to Ana’s whereabouts. She would make her way down south, to the territories not yet fallen under Morganya’s influence.
Her eyes darted to the window in the back of the room.
It didn’t matter that there were two thick panes of blackstone glass, and iron bars stood sentry, solid and unbreakable. It didn’t matter that they were so high up that the Syvern Taiga looked like an unending ocean of distant trees.
Where there was a window, there was a way out. Because no matter how many chains they wrapped around her, no matter how many locks they threw her behind, no matter how much her body was battered and bruised and broken, she would never forget who she was in her heart.
I am shadows and wind. I am the invisible girl.
I will fly.
Darkness. Pain. Then, gradually, the tiniest flickers of light. A sharp coldness on her face.
Ana cracked her eyes open. It was still dark, the world before her spinning as she tried to focus on the faintest dustings of light from the moon outside. She was lying in the same spot at the bottom of the staircase in the parlor of the Broken Arrow, where Seyin had left her.
Had stabbed her.
Had thought he’d killed her.
She had no idea how much time had passed. But even with her Affinity weaving in and out of focus she could tell she had lost a significant amount of blood. It was so cold that she could barely feel her fingers. Her breath misted in the air.
Ana tried to shift into a sitting position, but the pain in her back nearly made her pass out again. She could still sense blood seeping from her wound, slowed by the cold. If she stayed here, she would die. And no one was coming to save her this time.
Ana gritted her teeth and homed in her Affinity to the knife wound. It was long, slipping through her ribs in a cunning and malicious cut. She could sense her blood trying to coagulate at the spot.
With all the energy she had left, she focused her Affinity on hardening the blood where flesh and organ had sliced open like fruit. She had to stop every few seconds to catch her breath, and once or twice she relapsed into bouts of dizziness so strong that she thought she would faint.
After what felt like an agonizing amount of time, she managed to clot the blood at her wound enough that the bleeding was stanched. She let herself lie on the floor for several moments, focusing on steadying her breathing. Her Affinity flickered softly in the back of her consciousness. There were no signs of blood besides her own and that of the two bodies in the room. The inn was so silent, she could hear the whistle ofthe wind outside. It was still night, impossible to tell how much time had passed.
She needed to move.
Ana took two, three deep breaths, clamped down her teeth, and eased herself up.
Blood rushed from her head. She drew a sharp breath as her temple collided with the wall, her hands scrabbling against torn wallpaper for purchase.
