“Strip it bare,” the first one shrieks. “Make it squirm. Make itscream.”
“But we have its knife,” another shouts. “And now I want to see some pretty blood.”
My stomach convulses. Sure enough, one of the horrible creatures clutches my dagger. He jabs it toward the others, driving them back. A scuffle breaks out as they push and snarl and shove.
A ragged sob catches in my throat, but I mash it back down. I have tothink. Calm myself. Get out of this, somehow.
I close my eyes. Force my mind to settle. It only halfway works, but a sensible question manages to peek through the chaos. What do I have? What can Iuse?
My gyre, maybe. It’s still in my pocket, digging against my thigh.
But I can’t get to it. With my arms and legs tied, my means of escape might as well be stranded on the moon. Aside from that, my knife has been taken, my vial lost, the pebbles in my pockets useless here. Which leaves me with…
A spark catches inside me. My bracelet. If I can manage to reach it, spin the orb, I can talk to Amriel again. He could send his Shadow to find me. Save me.
One of the toad-creatures punches another in the face. The second one screeches, dark blood pouring from his nose as he fastens his hands around his assailant’s throat.
Good. The longer they fight, the longer I can strategize.
I turn my head, grateful the toad-things didn’t tie that much down, atleast. The wood beneath me is pock-marked, stained with dark splotches I don’t want to know the genesis of, but I get my bracelet in my eyeline. If I can just pin the orb between my wrist and the wheel, rotate it a fraction?—
Every tendon in my shoulder strains. Crystal squeaks against wood.
A quarter of an inch is all I get. But hope flashes through me. I arch my wrist, pinning the orb again, pushing harder this time.
Another quarter inch. Another.
The creatures’ fight reaches a fever pitch. One rolls on the ground now, moaning, covered in blood. The one that wanted to cut my clothes off, I think. Ihope.
Another quarter inch.
Light flares from my wrist. My lungs expand, brightness blossoming in my veins.
“Princess?” Amriel’s voice fills my ears. “Are you all right? Where are you? Why can’t I see anything?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire being centering around the timbre of his voice. The sound is a candle flaring in the darkness. It’s more soothing than any elixir, more gratifying than any prayer.
“Help,” I rasp. “I’m trapped. Captured. And I need help. I need the Shadow.”
“What?” Panic laces Amriel’s voice. “Where are you? What’s happening?”
I turn my wrist as best I can, straining to point the orb toward my face. I have just enough leeway to glimpse the edge if I press my cheek flat to the wheel. Amriel stares out through the sliver I can see, horror flooding his features.“Sariah?”
“The Shadow,” I say, the words hardly more than a warble. “Please. It’s past sunset. Is he himself? Can you send him to me?”
“Sariah, you’re… I…” His eyes go liquid, then turn glassy, as if he’s looking past me to something else. “He’s looking for you. But he’s lost. Following too many trails.”
A wet laugh breaks loose from my chest. Dispersing my scent across the maze must have worked better than I’d hoped, but now I’m on my own because of it. Kind of how I’m on this wheel because I obeyed Ishanna’s Book.
“Tell me where you are,” Amriel says hurriedly.
I swallow my jangling nerves and survey my surroundings. I’m in a meadow with a dead birch at its center. A single crooked branch sprouts from its crown, like a clawed hand pointing at the sky. Behind it, shadows darken the horizon, meaning more lost hours, but I can’t think about that right now. I search for the castle and fail to find it, so it must be behind me.
I describe it all to Amriel.
“You’re facing east, then,” he says. “But who has you? Who took you?”
“Ugly green monsters. They’re arguing about what to do with me next.”
