Page 11

Isolde

I gathered my skirts in hand and raced through the garden. Killian followed, and once we had topped the stairs, the ringing had ceased, replaced by dreadful, deafening screams.

A crowd had gathered in the courtyard. I pushed my way through to the front in time to see Miha and Isac leading a small party of soldiers into Cel Ceredi on their horses where giant, black dogs chased, mauled, and mangled my people in the streets of the village.

These creatures were aufhockers, drawn to life and driven to end it. When Nadia could no longer scare me with stories of witches, she had used aufhockers to try and keep me from sneaking out of the walls of High City at night.

“You know they look for girls like you,” she would say. “Troublemakers who disobey the rules, and when you are alone in the woods, they will hop upon your back and tear your throat!”

“How can they tear out my throat when they are on my back?” I’d asked.

“Do not ask questions, insolent child!” she would say, and though we laughed, I knew there was truth to some of what she said. Aufhockers would rip out your throat, but they did not care if you were trouble or not—anyone with blood was prey.

Adrian would have never left me if he had thought they were going to attack. He had likely believed as I had—that monsters did not venture within the bounds of Revekka—and though I knew differently now, I certainly never expected a pack of twelve or more hounds to approach a city during the day. Not even the fires raging at the gates had kept them at bay.

“What is this madness?” Killian whispered.

It was more than madness. It was chaos, and it would soon be complete carnage if we did not help.

“You will stay here,” Killian said, drawing his blade.

I glared. “How many times, Killian—”

“I can’t lose you,” he said, cutting me off. I stared at him, not so much surprised by his words but the sincerity of them—the desperation of them. His eyes were hard, his jaw tight as he spoke. “I won’t.”

He took a step away.

“Stay,” he said again. “Please.”

Then he turned and charged through the gates.

I did not watch him go because I had no intention of listening to his plea, but I could not join the fight without my weapons. As I turned, I looked upon those who had assembled here, high on the hill, with no intention of helping those at our feet.

“Prepare the great hall to receive the wounded,” I said. “Those of you who can fight will take up arms and follow me. Someone get me a horse.”

I cut through the crowd once more and entered the castle, hurrying upstairs. Bursting into my room, I raced to my nightstand where I kept my knives. Usually, I would sheath them in braces around my wrists, but I hoped to use them more like darts in an effort to keep as much distance between myself and the rabid hellhounds as possible.

I found my sword in the chest at the end of my bed and belted it around my waist. Once I was finished, I removed my mother’s crown and my cloak, which would only get in the way.

Taking one of my knives, I quickly cut away at my long skirt until it fell just above my boots, then sheathed my knives—one at my waist and one between my breasts.

I rushed downstairs and found Tanaka waiting, barring the way, his expression severe.

“You cannot go into battle, my queen,” said Tanaka.

I tilted my head, eyes narrowed and full of anger. When would my wishes stop being met with Adrian’s will?

“I did not become queen to watch my people die from the safety of a tower.”

“King Adrian—”

“Is not here, so I will lead my people in battle. You may stay here in the comfort of my castle.”

I moved past the old man.

“You defy his orders,” Tanaka said, continuing to speak even as I retreated. “And yet it is not you who will pay the price.”

I ignored him.