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The baron quick-slapped her face. Her cheek stung, and Seph sucked air through her teeth.

“I asked you a question, you lying little wench,” he said, but when she still didn’t speak, he quick-slapped her other cheek—the one he’d struck initially, and this time Seph cried out in pain.

The baron grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked hard as he leaned in close. His breath reeked of mead and rotting gums. “What is so special about this coat?”

“I don’t know—” she gasped.

The baron pulled harder.

She winced. “I swear, I don’t know anything about it!”

The baron’s expression darkened, and his gaze slid over her face with hate. “You’re nothing but a liar and a thief. You think you are above the law. That you have a right tomywoods, andmystores, but they belong to the good citizens of Harran, and it is from them that you steal, you insolent girl. You can thank your sister that I have turned a blind eye to your selfishness for this long, but unfortunately, you’ve spent all my good graces, and now it’s time to teach you a lesson in humility. To…remind you of your place.”

He handed the coat to Kole as his gaze slid brazenly over her, and a brick dropped into Seph’s stomach.

“Please, I swear I don’t—” Seph started, but Hayworth shoved Seph to the ground. She landed on her stomach so hard that the impact knocked the rest of her words from her lungs, and when she tried pushing herself up again, a boot landed firmly between her shoulders and shoved her back down.

Seph pleaded to the saints that if they would extend any mercy at all, to do so now and give her strength. Still, that boot pressed upon Seph’s back, but fury turned molten inside of her. The baron had taken so much from her, and now he thought that he could takethis.

Over her dead body.

The baron knelt beside her, his fetid breath at her ear as he stroked her cheek with the backs of his ringed fingers. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Not as much as I am, I assure you,” Seph rasped.

“Oh?” He laughed. “You think?—”

In one quick motion, Seph grabbed the shovel and wheeled it around, striking the baron across the head. The baron cried out and tumbled back into Hayworth, and Seph was on her feet in the next instant, swinging the shovel at Kole, who’d started unsheathing his sword. Her shovel collided with his jaw, and she whirled, only to find herself face-to-face with a now feral Hayworth.

Seph swung again, but Hayworth leaned back and caught the shovel instead. He jerked it from her hands, smirking and jabbing the shovel back at her. Seph lunged out of the way, scrambling for the chopping block.

The ax.

She climbed to her feet, jerked the ax from the stump, and swung it around just as Hayworth brought the shovel down again. Her ax sank into his gut. He froze, eyes wide with shock.

Seph released the ax’s handle and staggered back, breathless as she watched dark blood bloom upon his tunic. The shovel slipped from his hands a moment later and he collapsed.

Dead.

Seph had killed plenty of animals, but she’d never killed a man. Her heart drummed in her ears, her vision tunneling as she stepped back on unsteady feet. She glanced frantically about her, at the injured and dying, and at the coat, which lay in a heap on the ground beside the baron, who was still trying to hoist himself onto all fours. “I’ll kill you, you little bitch.”

Seph didn’t doubt it. She considered grabbing the ax again, but the idea of pulling it out of Hayworth’s gut made her stomach turn over, so she picked up the shovel instead, snatched the coat, and ran.

“Come back here!” the baron yelled. Something crashed, wood splintered, and she heard the rhythmic pounding of pursuit.

Seph ran faster. She had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to get away. There was no going back to Harran now, not after killing one of the baron’s loyal dogs. It didn’t matter that they’d been about to exact the worst sort of harm on her. Seph only regretted that she didn’t get to say goodbye to her family.

She maneuvered down the dark alleyways, trying to lose them, but the snow was a traitor. It put her footsteps on full display no matter which way she went, screaming,Here she is! Follow her tracks!

The woods. They were her only hope now.

Seph scuttled on like a mouse, holding tight to the enchanted coat and her shovel—her only weapon—until she was bounding over a low perimeter fence and bolting across the clearing. She ducked into the woods, praying the cover would save her as she glanced back.

The baron and Kole—who now carried her lantern—also jumped the fence.

Cursing, she pressed on, deeper into the woods. Snow gave way to a thin and lazy mist. Branches tugged at her coat and slapped her face, until the mist grew impossibly thick. Seph had never seen it like this before.

No sooner had that thought entered her mind than a strange tingling swept over her skin, and she was falling.