Page 39

A moonless sky stretched overhead. All the light and warmth from the day had been extinguished while night settled in. My skin prickled against the chill air; my shabby dress provided no warmth.

Unlike my previous excursion outside the fortress, when the wind whipped and rattled everything in its path, tonight, the air was calm. The only stirring was that of autumn leaves underfoot as we made our way across the open lawn.

Arden and Jarrett’s torches lit a halo of unnatural blue, highlighting our path but also making us blind to anything in the distance.

No one spoke. I had nothing left to say, and it was clear Jarrett and Arden were not conspiring with one another. Tension filled the space between them.

The fallen leaves grew thicker, and ultimately we reached the woods. Our steps created a clamor as we advanced into the Shadow Wilds. Ashloran torchlight reflected from wide tree trunks and tangled brush. All the branches were bare, except for a few random leaves clinging to a life already lost.

I squeezed the stone in my palm. If only I knew the plan, or at least what this gift was going to offer. As much as I wanted answers, I held my questions in. It wasn’t worth the risk of exposing my only chance.

Shadows stretched out and shrunk back as we drifted deeper into the woods. The dance fueled my troubled imagination. I visualized Slips, energized with anticipation, darting between the light.

We arrived at the open space. Arden was the first to investigate, swaying his torchlight from side to side. Leafless, spindly branches encircled the designated area, making the site more haunting than I remembered.

My heart kicked uncontrollably at my ribs.

Arden stepped up to Jarrett. “I will do it.” He opened his hand to take the lead of my bindings.

Jarret studied him, unmoving. It was a standstill, each measuring up the other with sharp eyes.

After a moment, Jarrett reluctantly handed the rope to Arden and took the second torch. Jarrett assumed his post, holding out the flames to brighten the clearing.

Gathering the rope, Arden locked eyes with me for the first time all evening.

“You don’t have to do this,” I hopelessly reminded him.

“Come,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. While he may not have wanted to, he still continued the task. So I stiffened my legs, making him exert an extra effort to pull me toward the metal tie down.

Met with the tension, he looked over his shoulder and gave me a sad half smile. He easily pulled me from my stance, then stooped and hooked the rope to its rein.

I shifted nervously and looked to Jarrett, but his focus was trained on Arden—keeping track of his movements.

Finished, Arden stepped near. “I’m glad to see you still have some fight in you.

” He moved closer, grabbing the ropes around my wrist. I fisted the stone harder, worried he may have seen Jarrett hand it to me after all.

“Just making sure your bindings are tight. Wouldn’t want you to break loose when a Slip is in control.

” He felt across the knotted rope giving it a slight tug, his knuckles dragging across my skin.

“Stay safe,” he said, his gaze sweeping across my face.

My eyebrows pulled together. “Ha,” I scoffed at him. What a weird thing to say when he knew what was coming. The corners of his mouth pinched as he turned away.

He gathered his torch from Jarrett.

Jarrett, my last remaining hope, looked at me and gave a parting nod. That was it— a nod —when I desperately needed so much more, he retreated with only a nod. I stared at his back in disbelief.

As they withdrew, Arden crooked his head, eyes snapping back to me, and he— smiled? Not a wicked smile, but a kind, genuine smile. Struck by the odd behavior, I almost missed the sound of something hitting the ground nearby. My eyes searched … a pouch, barely within reach.

By the time I looked back up, Arden had turned around to follow Jarrett. It was as if nothing happened.

What in the skies? Was Arden really choosing now as the moment to help?

I waited until they were both out of sight.

Torches gone. Thankfully, after my eyes adjusted, there was enough dusky light to see generalized outlines.

I opened my palm and revealed the item that I hoped would save me.

A stone? … The light was too dark to make out the color or detail.

I glanced at the pouch on the ground … then back to the hard nugget.

I popped the pebble in my mouth and swallowed, praying to the stars that Devrix and Jarrett had developed some miraculous plan, and I hadn’t eaten a rock for no reason.

Without delay, I dove for the pouch. It was just within reach.

I loosened the tie on the bag and dug out a thin scroll of paper with something heavier wrapped inside.

As the paper uncurled, a small knife dropped out.

I snatched it up and opened the message.

Struggling against the dusky night, I held the parchment closer and squinted.

I’m sorry.

Don’t stop fighting.

Check in the stump by the fire tree.

Arden hadn’t given up. Things between us had been tense. Nevertheless, he had done this for me. I felt a stab of guilt for the way I had treated him—I’d find a way to thank him later.

I slid the knife between my wrist and the rope, the sharp edge easily frayed the first strand.

A sense of urgency rushed through me—time was limited before a Slip would turn up.

I sawed the knife back and forth, and another layer released.

The rope was thick, but I kept at it … another layer broke … then another.

Finally, the rope dropped to the ground. I tucked the knife in my pocket.

When I looked down at my bare wrists, my heart sank. In my haste, I had cut my mother’s beads off. I bent to the ground, frantically feeling about. Seconds passed. I had only found two beads. I knew I had to abandon the effort— there’s no time!

I swallowed my loss and rose to my feet, scanning the silhouetted tree trunks. No movement or approaching shadows.

The fire tree. Arden’s note said that was where I should head. I had a sense of the tree’s general direction, but I feared getting lost if I tried to rush toward it through the woods.

While it required back-tracking, I decided to follow the path back out to the open yard. Hopefully, from there, I could use the glow of the fire tree to guide me.

I had fumbled around long enough that I didn’t fear catching up with Arden and Jarrett.

Beginning my trek, leaves crunched loudly. I cringed at the noise, certain it would draw unwanted attention.

Suddenly, a heaviness washed over me—no doubt my weakened state and frazzled nerves were catching up, but it couldn’t be now . I willed my adrenaline to take over and pressed on.

The diminishing visibility made it nearly impossible to follow the path at points. My progress was slower than desired, but I couldn’t afford to make a wrong turn and get lost in the Wilds.

Striding forward on the balls of my feet, the leaves continued to swish with my motion, a racket I was acutely aware of. With clenched teeth, I continued.

A break in the trees revealed the fortress’s open yard. As I approached, I took a moment to stop and listen. After three breaths, hearing only the beating of my heart, I crept past the tree line.

Every part of me wanted to run straight out and dash down the path directly toward the fire tree, but it was too risky.

As much as I hated being close to the Shadow Wilds and everything in it, I forced myself to hug the perimeter near the trees, keeping three arms’ width between me and the massive trunks.

Leaping to clear a small branch, my foot caught.

The miscalculation tossed me down onto the earth and knocked the breath from my lungs.

With arms so weak they trembled, I pushed the ground away and heaved myself back up.

My time in the dungeon had worn me down, but something was wrong.

My limbs were growing stiff and my fingertips tingled— I will worry about it later, I told myself.

Mentally, I was driven to make it to the tree—this was my chance at escape—yet my advancement slowed. Exhausted and struggling, I had to work for every scrap of progress.

At last, the faint glow of the fire tree appeared ahead. A beacon of hope. I sucked in a deep breath and pressed on.

By the time I made it around the yard and reconnected with the path, my legs pulled down with such resistance, it was like walking through a bog. My arms grew cumbersome, swinging heavy at my sides. I trudged closer to the tree.

The stump mentioned in Arden’s letter was easy to spot, a low, broken shape at the far side of the clearing. I all but collapsed as I stopped before it.

At first glance, the stump looked ordinary, no indication why Arden had led me to it.

Then I noticed the center—it was rotted away, a void of darkness.

Emboldened by my fading state, I reached my arm in.

My hand was mostly numb, but a wave of itchy pin pricks alerted me I’d found something.

With clumsy fingers, I hefted out a small satchel.

Stretching my legs out on the ground in front of me, I leaned on the trunk for support. Weariness rooted me down. It took complete concentration to lift the sack and get my hands to coordinate enough to pull open the tie.

I dumped the contents on my lap. A bottle of elixir, and a scroll.

I pawed at the rolled parchment. Managed to knuckle it open just as my wooden hands slumped down, useless.

My eyes focused on the paper—it was a map.

Everything went numb. No matter how hard I willed it, my body would not move. Paralyzed. My head lulled to the side. All I could do was stare at the hazy illustration spread open in my lap, my hands like paperweights at my sides.

Arden had given me all that I’d been seeking—a map, the elixir, a path to freedom.

Jarrett had given me a stone—one that took away all feeling.

Everything I needed to make my escape lay before me, but I was helpless to seize the opportunity.

And that is when I sensed it.