Page 24

The old woman was still in the center of camp as the first iron guards broke through. I could drag her with me, force her to come…

But her expression had turned almost peaceful, thelook in her eyes unrelenting.

She looked at me. “Go.”

“May the gods reward your sacrifice.”

She merely nodded, lifting her hand.

I reached the tree line as the screams sounded, and I twisted my head just in time to see several of the iron guards clutching at their chests as the woman smiled. They dropped to their knees, then slumped to the ground.

An attack power indeed.

“Where is my father?” The girl sobbed, falling behind me. I grabbed her hand, hauling her faster.

“I don’t know. Did you see where your mother went?”

“She died already,” she choked out. “Last winter.”

In my arms, the boy was still. I glanced down as we reached the meeting spot. Pupils blown. Shock. My chest ached, and I held him closer, giving what little comfort I could.

More hybrids were piling into the western meeting spot. By now, most of them would have joined other groups and left. But around twenty or so remained within the clearing.

“With me,” I ordered. My breaths came in fast pants, my lungs and throat burning. Nearby, a heavily pregnant woman sobbed, holding a small child to her chest.

Burns covered one side of his body. He shuddered in her arms, eyes blank. Shifting the boy I held to my hip, I held out my other arm.

“What’s your name?”

“Whirna.”

“My name is Madinia. You can’t run with him. Givehim to me, and I’ll keep him safe.”

She didn’t argue, but tears streamed down her face as she handed him to me. If I lived through this, I would have to thank Demos for forcing me to carry heavy sandbags constantly while we were training.

By the time we were on the trail I’d scouted—the one Vicer had told me to take if I needed to get out—the sounds of screaming were closer than ever.

Several men stalked out of the forest toward us, weapons in their hands.

Screams ripped through the hybrids around me. My hand lit with fire, until I noticed their ears. Pointed.

“Who sent you?” I asked, just in case.

“Galon,” the closest fae said. He had a strong, narrow face, and his hand gripped a broadsword so large, I doubted I would even be able to lift it. “Your camp leader sent us away. But we heard the screams.”

Thank the gods for fae senses. The fae to the right ran his gaze over us, his eyes lingering on the burned boy in my arms. He’d begun moaning softly, his body trembling.

“Are any of you healers?” I asked hoarsely.

The fae’s expression tightened with pity. “No. But I can send him to sleep to spare him the pain.”

I glanced at the boy’s mother, who nodded, mouth trembling.

“Run,” one of the other fae said when it was done. “We’ll buy you as much time as we can.”

They would die here today. I knew it, and by the grim look in their eyes, they knew it too.

“Thank you.”