The amulet at her throat glowed like a coal, the chain burning into her flesh. For an instant, she saw her own hands, veins illuminated in blue-white, the delicate skin gone nearly translucent. Her heart stuttered and seized, the beat of it too fast, too strong, as if trying to tear itself free. The world spun, but her feet remained rooted to the marble, and the only thing holding her upright was Kael’s arm around her.
She gasped, the sound torn from her lungs. Her mouth filled with the taste of copper, sharp and bright. A vision overtook her: mirrors, an infinite series of her own face, each one refracting the pain and the fear and the wild, impossible joy of being alive, alive, alive.
She tried to pull away, but Kael’s hold was immovable. He leaned in, his mouth at her ear, and the words he spoke were not a whisper, but a command written in the marrow of her bones.
“Hold on.”
The air around them shimmered. The chandeliers overhead erupted in a corona of sparks as every glass on the table shattered at once, a rain of crystal shrapnel that caught the lightning and flung it across the room. For a fraction of a heartbeat, Alina saw everything in perfect clarity: the king lunging for her, his face twisted in a snarl of grief and rage; her mother, arms outstretched, fingers bleeding where the glass had sliced them; Lord Rowan, on his knees, mouth forming a word she could not hear.
Then the world folded.
It was like being thrown into a river, the current dragging her under, tumbling her head over heels through a tunnel of light and sound. She clung to Kael because there was nothing else, because he was the only thing that existed in this impossible, screaming void. There was no up, no down, no left or right—only the relentless pulse of energy driving them forward.
When they landed, it was with a jolt that nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. The silence was total, so abrupt it felt like the world itself had stopped listening.
She opened her eyes.
They were standing in the dark and empty grounds of the palace. The air was cool and fresh, moist with the storm’s rain. She looked down. Her shoes were gone, blasted away; her feet were bare, toes curled into the cool grass. The hem of her dress was singed, the fabric still smoking. Her hands shook, but she could not let go of Kael.
He was breathing hard, his body tense, eyes alight with something not entirely human. For the first time, she noticed the way he looked at her—not just as an adversary, or a prize, but as if she were an answer to a question he’d been asking all his life.
He released her arm slowly, careful as if she might shatter.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, voice rough.
Alina tried to answer, but her jaw was locked. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
Kael’s eyes darted to the amulet, now dim and cold. He reached for it, paused, then thought better of it. “That shouldn’t have been so hard,” he said, mostly to himself.
She stared at him. “What did you do?”
He looked at her and a smile appeared briefly, small and sad. “Saved you. Or tried to.”
Before she could process his words, more fighters jogged up to them, breathless with exertion.
“Who are you?” Alina asked. Nobody reacted. The fighters formed a tight knot, deep in urgent discussion. Standing there in the cold, the spell between her and Kael broken by the arrival of the others, she started to feel like herself again.
“What do you want? Again: Who are you?” she asked once more, only to be ignored again. Nobody even turned to look at her. Anger started to bubble up. “Will any of you have the grace to explain to me what in the Gods’ name is going on?” she demanded, voice becoming louder every instant.
The silver-haired woman, who had fought in the dining room, flicked her eyes to her and back to Kael. “We should move.”
“Damn it, I have had enough!” Alina shouted. Her fear had been replaced by white-hot fury, and she exploded. “I will not stand here any second longer! I do not know what is going on,or who you are or what you think you can achieve with all of this”—she gesticulated wildly to encompass the palace and the grounds—“but I will not be a part of it! So, farewell or whatever one is to say in such circumstances, but I will go back to my family now!” and with that, she started to march off in the direction of the palace entrance.
She had made it about three paces when a strong arm came around her waist and picked her up from the ground.
“I think not,” Kael said, and started to move in the other direction.
“Let me go! Let me down, I say!” She struggled and squirmed and tried to get down. “I said—”
“I heard you loud and clear the first time. Not going to happen. Now, you can either walk, or I will carry you, but you are coming with us. What’s your choice, Princess?”
Not wanting to comply, but also not wanting to be touched by him any longer, she grudgingly conceded. How very strange his touch was to her, intense and oddly familiar and yet exciting and simply overwhelming. They started off at a hearty pace, half jogging in the direction of the woods beyond the palace grounds.
After several minutes, they reached the seam of the wood. In the shelter of the first trees, some horses were hobbled and peacefully grazing. Their heads went up, ears pricked, when they heard the group approaching. They were still saddled and so it was a matter of but a few moments to get mounted and take off.
The still darkness of nightfall was in sharp contrast to the chaos left behind at the palace. The smell of pine and moss filled the cool air, undercut by moldy leaves, warm horsehair, and the sweat of Alina’s unlikely compatriots. The horses’ saddles and harnesses creaked and jingled. Together with the animals’ breathing, huffs,and grunts, it made for a rich tapestry of sound. Occasionally, a member of the group would say a few words to a fellow rider, but in general the people were quiet, the mood calm but alert.
Alina was the exception, caught in a maelstrom of emotion. Physically and mentally drained from the panic, bewildered by the abruptness of the whole affair, confused by what she heard and saw, furious because of her helplessness, baffled by being ignored—she had a thousand questions and felt as if she had been brained with a hammer. Having half-run for several minutes, and then been heaved onto a horse in front of Kael and set off at a harrowing pace, she was more than exhausted. She was shivering from cold and the aftermath of the events, and she increasingly felt her mind slip away. The movements of the horse were rocky, Kael’s grip around her waist was made of steel and the woods were a dark green blur. Alina felt her lips go numb and her head go woozy, and she let herself slip away into blissful, gray oblivion.
