“Do not blame yourself for the actions of others,” Sariah said. “You are not the one who took her.” He knew that, but it didn’t make him feel any better.
“We leave in an hour,” he said with finality, and turned to Marcus. “When Clover returns, tell her I love her.”
The next day, Clover and three women from the Hydra rode back into Dragon Village. Their meeting with the North Oasis general had been quick and easy. Clover trusted the general’s ability, and instead of staying to oversee things like a mother hen, she decided to come home.
As they rode past the market, Clover heard a young voice call out her name. Marjorie, now going on sixteen, waved with a bright smile. It’d been a few months since Clover had seen her, and she swore the girl had grown two inches since then.
“You three go on without me,” Clover told the group. “Tell the others I’ll be there in an hour to debrief.”
She jumped off her horse and tied it to the closest hitching post. “Marjorie Rose. You’re almost as tall as I am.”
Marjorie wrapped Clover in a hug. “Not yet, but Grandma Trinity says I’m not done growing.”
“Where is Trinity?” Clover looked around for the older woman.
“She’s at the produce stand.” Marjorie pointed at the other end of the market. “I wanted to look at the cart with the pretty headscarves.”
Clover threaded her arm through Marjorie’s elbow. “Then let’s go look. What color are you looking for?”
A warning call pierced the air—five sharp whistles that had been hammered into Clover since childhood. They were under attack.
Thundering hoofbeats sounded behind them, and Clover flipped around. A group of riders stormed the streets, jumping from their steeds with swords drawn. Rebels.Fuck. They’dassumed the rebels moved north to hit the oasis, but what if Dragon Village had been their target all along?
The rebel men yelled for surrender, but they hadn’t counted on the Hydra fighting back. Store owners came out, swords in hand, taking down the rebels with militant precision. People on the street met the rebels in hand-to-hand combat, disarming them with ease.
Marjorie stood frozen with fear, and Clover shook her shoulders. “Run back to the den as fast as you can. No matter what happens, keep running.”
Marjorie nodded, tears collecting in her eyes. She’d been raised in the Hydra, trained like the others, but she was a soft soul who didn’t have the heart for battle.
Clover hugged her tight. “Go.” She drew her dagger, running into the fight. A rebel tried to mount his horse, but her first dagger flew, hitting its mark in the middle of his chest. He fell to the ground with a loud crash, causing his horse to rear back.
She ran forward to retrieve her dagger, but stopped dead when she heard a scream behind her. Clover flipped around and watched in horror as a rebel dragged Marjorie through the street by the hair.
“No!” She shot forward, reaching for her other dagger. The rebel saw her coming, his eyes widening at her speed, and tossed Marjorie aside like a rag doll.
He tried to run, but Clover took a fistful of his shoulder-length hair and jerked him back, kneeing him in the kidney on his way down.
The man fought hard, but she pinned him to the ground, his strength no match for hers. She could see the fear and confusion in his eyes as he tried to figure out how a woman half his size could overpower him.
“Marjorie!”
Clover’s head snapped toward Trinity’s voice, the sight of the old woman scooping Marjorie’s limp body into her arms hollowing out her chest. Blood coated the side of Marjorie’s head, and her once bright eyes stared unseeing. Clover didn’t understand. She’d been alive when the man had thrown her aside. Her eyes searched the area, landing on the blood-coated sidewalk where Marjorie had hit her head.
Clover couldn’t move. “Trinity?”
Trinity lifted her watery gaze to Clover. “She’s gone.”
The man took advantage of Clover’s distraction and shoved her off. He rolled his massive body to the side, but she snapped out of it and grabbed him by the arm. “You fucking killed her,” she snarled and yanked him closer.
The man spat obscenities and thrashed in her hold. Clover dropped his arm and climbed to her feet. He tried to escape, but she reached out and fisted his hair, dragging him through the street as he’d done to Marjorie.
She whistled, summoning the Hydra warriors. Clover threw him to the ground in the middle of the street, took out her dagger, and sliced at the tendons on the back of his legs. He screamed in agony, rolling around.
“Any prisoners?” she asked when warriors appeared around her.
“Three,” one woman answered. “They’re tied up and ready for a holding cell.”
“Bring them to me.”
