Page 51 of The Shattered King

I woke with a start, my face, hands, and feet numb with cold.

“Ursa?” I croaked into the black.

She didn’t answer.

I swallowed, my throat dry. I pushed myself to my knees, trying to remember where I was. The blood on my dress had not completely dried yet. Shivering, I pulled my cloak tightly around me and resituated my bag on my shoulder. Felt around to orient myself.

Felt the cold skin of a corpse.

Biting down on a shriek, I flung myself backward, only to hit another fallen body. Tears rushed to my eyes as I stood, trying to orient myself—

Renn.

Oh gods, no.

Crouching, I clenched my jaw and felt for the second body. Touched an elbow, a shoulder—

Bars on the collar.

I exhaled so loudly it echoed. Sestan soldier. Not one of ours. Swallowing hard, I checked the other body, cringing when I touched a blood-soaked back, and found more uniform markings of a dragon.

Standing again, I shuffled my feet, keeping my hands out to find the walls of the room, seeking any more of the fallen. I had to know if Renn lay among them.

I discovered no others.

My hands touched iron bars.

Tunnel. The start of the tunnel.

I pulled myself to my feet and tugged on the bars. They didn’t give. Panicking, I changed my hold and yanked again. Nothing.

Calm down, I told myself, sucking in deep breaths of cold air. If you don’t calm down, you’re going to die here.

How long would it take for the Sestans to find the door?

Focusing on my breathing, I thought about locating a torch, but if one even remained, I had nothing with which to light it.

Instead, I slowly, carefully, felt around the edges of the grate, searching for a lock or hinges.

I made it around the left side, over the top, and down the right side with nothing.

I was about to despair when, at the bottom center, I found a thumb latch.

I depressed it and heaved. The iron was heavy, and I only managed to move it an inch, but progress was progress.

I heaved again and stuck in my boot to keep the grate from closing, then heaved a third time and shoved in my bag to open it a little wider.

Fourth time, I got my knee under it, the weight bruising the flesh.

I steeled myself and, gritting my teeth, pulled with all my might until I could wedge my shoulder beneath, then duck my head under.

I leapt into the tunnel, and the grate slammed closed behind me.

I cringed at the sound but pressed one hand to the wall and walked.

The space was not large—I struck my head on its low ceiling—but the ground was relatively flat, so I dowsed while I walked, healing bruises and torn muscles, the cut on my neck and the start of frostbite on my toes.

My toes struck one more dead body, and I again confirmed it a dragon.

Walked and walked, nearly stumbling when the way tilted downward, and again when it ascended.

After nearly an hour, I saw a glimmer of light up ahead and jogged toward it, too weary to run.

I found a second grate near a stream, beneath an overhang of some sort.

Tree roots grew from top to bottom, and heavy brush obscured it.

A few branches had snapped. The latch was similar here.

Had I come here earlier by myself, I wouldn’t have made it out.

But since Renn had fled through here, the lock was open, lying on the ground.

This grate I could push instead of pull, so opening it proved a little easier. It slammed shut behind me. The brush scratched against my hands and cloak as I weaved between tree roots and stepped out onto a half-frozen brook. Looked up, my breath fogging in the morning air.

Rove stretched around me. I was still in the city.

And I had no idea where Renn had gone.