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The judge rings his bell.

The blade falls.

My stomach rises up my throat—

Chimes ricochet around the courtyard, vibrating through the stage and into my bones. Bright magic zaps to the guillotine, freezing it mid-fall, a breath from ending her.

The crowd spins towards the swinging wyvern bell, awed. Skriniaris Evander remains on his knees, unsurprised, holding the evidence towards the judge, who has leapt to his feet in disbelief.

A voice booms. “A decree from the palace. All bow to receive it.”

As one, the crowd drops to their knees. Only two remain standing. The judge. Me.

“Prince Nicostratus Aetherion is a magnanimous soul,” the voice fills every inch of the courtyard. “In celebration of his upcoming birthday, the king reflects his brother’s benevolence onto the people: No executions during spring.”

I barely comprehend the words. All I glean from them is... Akilah is safe.

Safe.

Redcloaks pull her to her feet and we clutch one another amidst the chaos and confusion.

River’s blood is damp on her clothes and seeps into mine.

I blink.

The judge demands silence and bluntly orders us escorted from the city. Our commuted sentence: border service in the sacred forest, in the name of protecting the kingdom.

Skriniaris Evander rushes towards us, breathing hard. “I came as swiftly as I could”—he shakes his head—“too late... Why wereyouup there?”

I’m speaking, but I barely hear myself. “We visited Akilah last night. The bead pass we used—”

“Beads?” He looks surprised, confused. “Where did you get—”

“Back away,” a redcloak calls; Skriniaris Evander is forced back. He watches us go between their shoving shoulders.

* * *

Gravel crackles under rickety wheels. Cool wind slices between the bars and Akilah huddles close. Over the following hours, her condition steadily worsens. With no access even to worm truffle for temporary relief, all I can do is stroke the hair that curtains half her tears and her swollen wound.

“I just wanted to save you, Cael. You’re not supposed to be stuck with me.”

A weird little laugh leaps out of me. “I’m shameless. I want all the adventures.”

She buries a sob against my chest as we round a sharp corner. Rocky banks give way to rolling green pastures and boats moving along curving canals as we’re pulled at a brisk pace south.

“They’ll have to stop to water the horses soon,” Akilah whispers. “I’ll convince someone to let us relieve ourselves. Make a run for it.”

“You’re in no condition to run.”

“I’ll scream then. Hold him off while you get away.”

“Any more of that talk, and I’ll have to punish you.”

“Cael.”

“Shush.”

As predicted, we stop at a stream to let the horses drink. Akilah uses the last of her energy to complain loudly she needs a pee break. The redcloak approaches with dead eyes and flat lips. “Soil yourself. This cage stays locked until we reach port.”