My skin prickled. The road was quiet. Too quiet.
There was a sharp bark, followed by another, and an alarmed call from Quarry. But it was too late.
First Line soldiers poured from the trees, and Hayle swore. “Go! Lierick, go!” he shouted, kicking Cirrius into a gallop, and the horse didn’t need any further suggestion. Whatever Hayle was saying in the minds of the horses was making them move faster than I’d ever seen any horse move. I held on tightly to his waist, crushing Epsy between us so he didn’t fall off, though his little claws were lodged firmly in my shirt.
Then I was wrenched from the back of the horse, as was Hayle, landing on the ground with a lung-rattling thump. Winded, I tried to suck in air as I scrambled to my feet. Lierick had whirled around, but I screamed, “Go!”
It was filled with pain and panic, and Lierick hesitated only a moment more before he took off into the trees, Iker at his back. Vox would die if he didn’t get to a healer, or Baron Vylan would just cut his head off to finish the job. Either way, they needed to be gone.
Within moments, I was suspended in the air, my feet kicking as my arms were stretched above my head and shackled with the elements. Freezing bands of ice burned against the skin of my wrists, making me whimper. Hayle kicked out toward me, but they’d wrapped him in some kind of chains. Physical chains.
“Show yourself, you fucking coward!” Hayle roared, and I whipped my head from side to side. My eyes finally snagged on a figure who swaggered out from between the trees, like he was on a leisurely stroll.
I’d never met Feodore Vylan in the flesh before now. If I’d thought he might be anything like his son, I’d have been sorely mistaken. He looked like death personified, some primordial part of my brain already knowing that this man was how I died.
He smiled, and unfortunately, that was the one feature like his son—the same dimple, the same sharp edges. I hated it.
“Ah, the little Halhed girl. The one who turned my son against me. Your father was desperate to sell you to me, but I guess finders keepers, no?” He looked me up and down. “Though I’m not sure what my son sees in you. You aren’t much to look at. Maybe it’s your tight little cunt that keeps him so enamored? I’ll test the theory tonight.”
My eyes felt too wide. I searched desperately for my magic. Dipped into the well, but whatever powerfultalwe’d been trapped under in Rewill had made my magic retreat so deeply, it was still only trickling back out.
Hayle hissed, and I could see his skin sizzling beneath the chains. Were they heating them? “Stop this!” I implored the Baron.
He threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t think I will. I’m not going to let you scuttle off like rats, hiding beneath rocks until you gather enough other rats to overthrow me. Better to exterminate you now.”
There was a yelp from behind us, and Hayle grunted like he’d been struck. “Alucius,” he whispered.
No.This couldn’t happen. I tried to go back, but I still couldn’t grip enough of the magic. Next to it was something else, though, a different kind of reservoir. Screaming, I reached inside and pushed it outwards.
I felt Baron Vylan’s magic fall from my skin, and I dropped heavily to my knees, jagged rocks cutting the skin of my legs. Reaching for Hayle, I pulled him to his feet, while everyone stared in shock.
I didn’t have time to wonder why they didn’t grab us again. We had to run. If we could make it to the safety of the woods, maybe we could get the horses, or Iker might have doubled back, or fuckinganything.
I wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“Go, Avalon!” Hayle shouted, but I couldn’t leave without him. I spun back toward him, but I should have known that Feodore Vylan wouldn’t play fair.
He lifted a gun, pointing it at Hayle. A flashback of another life flitted through my mind, but the gun moved from Hayle to me.
Feodore Vylan, Baron of the First Line and ruler of Ebrus, shot me in the heart. Muscle shredded, and bone splintered.
Then there was nothing but death.
Three
Avalon
“My impartiality is hanging by a thread, Avalon Halhed, Ninth Daughter of the Ninth Line.”
I’d been shot. I remembered the pain, the feel of the blood leaving my body like a geyser. I remembered the sound of nothing as my heart and body stopped.
Now? I felt weightless and warm. Happy in a way that rarely happened outside of stolen moments with my guys.
Something was not quite right.
Forcing my eyes open, I looked up into the face of a beautiful woman. She looked so familiar, like I’d passed her in the street at some point—though she didn’t seem like someone you’d forget—but also completely alien to me. She felt… big.
Maybe blood loss had impaired my brain? I tried to look past her, but everything was hazy. Some part of me knew that if I wasn’t dead, I was really close.
