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Lucius takes Tessa’s elbow and leads her up the steps toward the throne. At the top of them, he reluctantly unfastens the leash from his wrist.

Then, Lucius mutters something to the Toad Lord – low enough that only Oblog can hear him. Finally, he hands the leash to the Toad, and I watch as Oblog’s cruel face twists into an obscene smile.

With a click, he attaches Tessa’s leash to his wrist. She gives me a terrified, pleading look, begging me to save her.

I make a promise to myself.

I won’t leave this ship without you.

I only hope the silent promise is conveyed in my eyes.

It was heartbreaking to watch a tall, proud Aurelian Warrior forced to do the bidding of a disgusting Toad. If we weren’t surrounded by Sentinels and Bullfrogs, I know that bastard’s head would have been bouncing down those steps by now…

…but we’re firmly in Lord Oblog’s territory now.

Lucius strides back down the steps, his eyes black with rage.

“What did you say to him?” I hiss, as he passes me.

“I warned that slimy bastard that if he so much as lays a hand on Tessa, I’ll kill him.”

My mind races. That warning raises the stakes. Toad are cowards, but they’re calculating cowards. Even safe on his own ship, I know Oblog won’t discount Lucius’s threat.

Whether that helps or hurts our situation, I’m not sure.

Fuck.

I need to get out of this throne room – andnow. If I’m near Oblog for another second, I might just throw up.

Marcel faces down the Toad Lord.

“Do you require anything else of us?”

There’s no questioning tone in his flat sentence. Marcel wasn’t asking – he was telling. His fists clench, and he draws me closer. I don’t know if it’s anger, orhis protective instincts – but I’m grateful either way.

“That will be all,” Oblog waves a slimy hand dismissively. “Go rest, Aurelians. You need to guard your strength for the show tonight.” Then, that mocking laugh. “Don’t worry, your other woman is safe with me – for now.”

Oblog yanks the leash and pulls Tessa closer to him. She chokes on the collar, grabbing at her throat. My hands ball into fists – and while I know I’m powerless to do anything right now, I make a solemn promise to myself thatI’mgoing to be the one who shoves a blade through Lord Oblong’s flabby, gelatinous throat.

Marcel then turns, stiff and formal, and strides silently toward the doors. The leash around my own neck goes taut, and I’m forced to wade through the water behind him.

As we leave, Lord Oblog triumphantly declares:

“Everyone in this room is invited, tonight! Watch these three, proud Aurelians turn into animals before your very eyes!”

The Toad Lord jeers as we leave, and I know he’s trying to provoke the Aurelians. The Bullfrogs laugh in their grunting, low tones, adding fuel to the fire.

Marcel finally stops, right in front of the towering doors as they open for us.

Without a word, he scoops me up and flings me over his shoulder – and I get one last look of the chortling Toad and his cohorts as we leave.

The only two Toads not laughing are the two Bullfrog guards at the door. They hold their axes ready, eyeing us like predators.

I know they can feel the tension and rage resonating from the Aurelians – like deadly waves from the heart of a dying neutron star.

The ship-wide intercom crackles as we turn the corner. Oblog’s voice crackles over the intercom in the Toad language. Whatever he’s saying, from the way Marcel tenses when he hears it, it can’t be good.

Oblog must be announcing the show.