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Her guard watched carefully, his posture tensed and alert. We couldn’t disappear into the trees, and I couldn’t take her to the escort. He’d turn us in. Betray us. A burning sensation cut across my left wrist, tingling and scratching. My blood oath.

Remember. Remember. We four keep this secret. We four die by this secret.

We had to disappear. Now.

There were crowds surrounding us in every direction, drunk, dancing, completely giving in to debauchery. I took stock of our assets. Meera’s mask hung around her neck. Mine was over my hair. I also had my soturion cloak.

Meera pulled away from me, her strength growing. In a few seconds, trying to control her would be like battling a fully powered soturion.

Another escort moved behind the trees, and then coming from the opposite end was Bellamy, Tristan’s escort, and mine, and since I’d begun paying him.

I waved him over, my plan forming.

“Your grace,” he said. “How can I help?”

“Follow me out of here. I’m taking my sister home,” I said, my voice low. “Can you make a shield to shadow us?”

His eyes narrowed, flicking to Meera and back to me.

“Please. I will pay you ten times over.”

He gave a simple nod and took a step back, his hand on the hilt of his stave in his silver scabbard. “When you’re ready.”

My heart was hammering in my chest as I took in my surroundings, assessed our location, and mapped out our escape route. I had a window of opportunity here, but there was no room for mistakes. I sucked in a breath, preparing to act, to run.

Silently I counted down.Three…two…one….

Bellamy withdrew his stave.

I pulled Meera’s mask up to cover her face and pulled mine down, my hand leaving her arm just long enough for her to thrash and flail away from me. Grabbing hold of the edge of my soturion cloak, I wrapped my arm around her again, her body now half-hidden by my camouflage. My grip tightened around her, and we were off.

I started running straight into the crowd of onlookers, praying that between my cloak, our masks, and Bellamy’s shadow, we’d go unnoticed. Everyone else at the party was in the dark, drinking and high off moonleaves. But I couldn’t take any chances. Even if the crowd did not notice us, our escorts wouldn’t be far behind.

Meera fought against me, starting to yell and snarl, but I kept going, half-lifting her off her feet, her boots dragging in the ground as I raced, dodging around the unaware partiers.

I dragged her into the middle of another group, off to the side where the torchlights were low, faking a smile, pulling her close, pressing her face against my shoulder. Meera stumbled, falling into me, then abruptly pushed back, trying to escape my hold. I grabbed her around the waist and pushed through the crowd, stumbling into another group of nobles.

Meera shook in my arms as icy cold air from her aura swirled around us. The vision was getting stronger. Already, her nostrils were flaring beneath her akadim mask. A single drop of blood dripped from her nose, marking a red trail on her otherwise pale pink lips.

It was happening. Faster than I’d be able to get her to safety. In the shadows, golden armor stalked alongside us. Markan had joined our watch.

Come on, Bellamy! More shadows!

How was I going to get her away from the party? Away from our escorts? She was already half-gone.

I had to keep running. I had to get her out of here. I was going to get her out of this.

MORGANA!

I crouched down, grabbing under Meera’s knees and scooped her into my arms, holding her close to my chest. She yelled as I wrapped my cloak over her and stood back up, the backs of my legs burning. And then I ran. Faster than I’d ever run before.

We weren’t far from the seraphim port. If I could keep running, I could get us on the next carriage, be airborne before our escorts discovered us.

I had to keep running.

I dodged more guests, raced around bonfires.

Meera, as if sensing her escape route was about to be taken from her, thrashed wildly and screeched. I tightened my hold, screaming internally for my legs to move faster, for my arms to be stronger, for my hands to hold onto her just a little longer, but Meera freed her arm from my hold, and her nails slashed at my neck, drawing blood. A thick droplet rolled down my collarbone.