They found Zephyr in the gravel drive behind the kitchen, waiting with a boxy little coach, pulled by two plodding land dragons.
Magdala placed her hand on Asherton’s back and nodded at the coach. “Go on.”
But with his fingers twined in Magdala’s, he stepped to the open door. “You first, my lady,” he said.
Magdala rolled her eyes, but let him hold her hand as she climbed in, like she was a fine lady leaving a ball. She spared him a quick smirk as she ducked into the dark interior.
“Sit on the floor,” she said as he struggled, one-armed, inside. His teeth were on edge, his face ashen. The door shut and Zephyr slapped the reins on the dragons’ backs. They clattered over the gravel and onto the cobblestone street.
Asherton hugged his arm against his body and inhaled sharply.
“You alright?” Magdala asked.
He nodded, but the floor rocked and bumped, and Asherton tried to brace against the wall to steady himself. He ground his teeth. Hoping to absorb some of the jolts, she hugged him from behind and rested her aching head on his shoulder.
Magdala questioned her decision to leave so quickly. Clearly, Asherton was in pain. If he developed a fever, or one of his bruised ribs proved worse than they imagined, what then? It was a long journey home, and the accommodations were poor. What if one of his ribs was cracked, it punctured a lung, and filled his chest cavity with air?
But they could not stay in Largotia. By morning, they would be safe again. And that’s all she wanted—for him to be safe.
“Alright, MoCrida?” She choked on the word, and it came out as a squeak.
“I’m just being dramatic,” Asherton said. This annoyed her—why couldn’t he admit he was in agony and let her comfort him? “What does that word mean?”
“Nothing.” She smiled to herself. Her head injury must be softening her brain.
The coach’s wheels grated on the dirt, and it lurched to a stop. Zephyr’s voice sounded at the front, but a cacophony of angry voices drowned him out. They rumbled like water rolling over boulders, and then one rose above the others.
Huxley.
Magdala gripped Asherton’s hand.
“Listen to me, Ash,” she said, hurried and frantic. “Don’t fight them. They’ll kill us both if you do. Do what they say and I can talk our way out of this. If you get the chance to run, do it. Don’t wait for me.”
Asherton nodded and untangled his fingers from hers. In the darkness, she couldn’t see his face, but his fingers brushed her jaw. “I don’t regret that kiss in the cave. I would kiss you again if you let me, and every day for the rest of my life.”
Boots scuffed outside. The latch caught, then shattered.
“I can’t live without you,” he went on, more to himself than to her. “I won’t.”
“Stop it,” Magdala breathed. “Please, not now.”
“I need to say this.” The words rushed out of him like spilled wine. “I love you more than my own soul—infinitely more than my own life.”
The door swung open and torchlight spilled across his face. The settled determination in his eyes struck terror to her marrow.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Magdala pleaded. “Remember who you are, remember who I am.”
Asherton let out a quick breath, and she saw in his expression that she was no more just a bodyguard to him than he was just a charge to her.
The bone-white barrel of a shotfire shone in the flashing light. Huxley’s sneering voice cut through the clamor. “There’s our new king,” he sneered. “Out for a drive, I see. Come out, and let’s crown you.”
Chapter 40
Amass of shining, angry faces crowded behind Huxley. Arms reached into the carriage, grasping Magdala’s clothes, her hair, anything they could reach. “Run, Ash!” she screamed as they dragged her out the door. “Go out the window and run!”
Magdala’s knees scraped on packed dirt, a cloth covered her eyes, and cold, scratchy metal closed over her wrists. She didn’t struggle, but she refused to stand, and someone had to pull her roughly to her feet and then bear her down the road, her toes leaving furrows in the dirt.
“Ash!” she cried, her ears pricking for the familiar cadence of his breathing, the rhythm of his footsteps. She would know him anywhere, even in the dark.
