Figures shed Harendellian cloaks to reveal Ithicanian tunics of green and gray. Hidden warriors burst from alleyways, fromshadows, from within the crowd. Civilians screamed and scattered. Soldiers turned, but too late.
And James—
He vaulted from Dippy’s back, arms catching Ahnna around the shoulders just as she crumpled.
“You’re alive,” she gasped, clinging to him as best she could with bound wrists, her fingers clutching his torn shirt. The scent of sweat, leather, and blood clung to him, the marks of physical violence, old and new, written in the injuries to his face.
“I made you a promise, Princess,” James said, lifting her onto Dippy’s back, the saddleless horse lathered from the gallop here. “And there is no power in this world that would prevent me from keeping it.”
He vaulted up behind her, his chest pressing into her back as he seized the reins. Then Dippy surged into a gallop, his hooves pounding like war drums against the cobblestones as they fled the square.
They flew past Lestara, who shrieked curses after them, her voice fraying with hysteria. Behind them, the clash of metal rang sharp as Ithicanians fought to carve a path through the chaos. Aren’s voice cut through the din. “Get downstream!”
James nodded, already veering down a narrow street. Ahnna twisted in his grip, heart lurching. “We can’t leave them! I need to—”
“Aren has a plan,” James snapped. “Let’s not fuck with it!”
They tore through the winding streets of Verwyrd. Dippy’s hooves struck sparks from the uneven cobbles, and the scent of smoke blew over them from fires that had been set in the city, probably by Aren. It was the same path Ahnna had taken the night she’d escaped—and now, like then, the walls felt too tight, the corners too sharp, the chance of a fall as deadly as being caught.
Shouts rang out behind them. The harsh clatter of hooves. The blare of horns.
Worse were the shouted orders.
Not to capture them.
To kill.
An arrow sliced through the air and clattered off a building wall to her right. Another hissed past her ear, and then another. Dippy squealed, his stride faltering.
Ahnna’s heart seized.
“Just grazed his haunches,” James said grimly. “He’s fine.”
The river’s tang hit her nose a second before it came into view—wide and rushing, gleaming in the sunlight. The bridge loomed upstream, gates clanging shut as soldiers took up positions. Archers swarmed the fortifications, bristling like thorns.
Faster,she silently begged her horse.One last time, save me.
The wharf came into view, stacked with crates and lined with soldiers bearing shields and pikes. There was no way through.
James didn’t slow.
Instead, he wrenched the reins, and Dippy veered toward the wide gangplank used to load taller riverboats.
“No,” Ahnna breathed. “He won’t do it. He’ll balk.”
But Dippy did not hesitate. With the stride of a champion, he thundered up the ramp and leapt.
The wind tore the breath from her lungs. For a suspended heartbeat, they flew. The river rushed beneath them, wide and deep and waiting.
Then they fell.
Ahnna had just enough time to suck in a breath before they hit.
Water swallowed her, pulling her off Dippy’s back. Cold. Crushing. Blinding. Panic shot through her chest because her sodden dress was dragging her down. She kicked. Twisted.
And broke the surface with a gasp, the taste of the river bitter in her mouth.
“Hold on to his mane!” James shouted, pushing her onto Dippy’s back. One hand on the reins, he guided the swimming horse, cutting through the current with powerful strokes.
