I stared down the barrel of the gun, knowing what it could do and that I should just obey, but there was something about this man that rubbed me the wrong way, made me want to refuse.

So I did. “No, I won’t.”

“Oooh, this is fun,” one of the others said. “I never seen a girl defy the Red Hand like this.”

“It’s embarrassin’,” another said, which seemed to anger the Red Hand.

He stood slowly, bending over and shoving his face close to mine. “I said dance.”

Up close, I couldn’t fail to notice that he was much cleaner and well-groomed compared to the rest of the bandits. His teeth were white, and his skin unmarred aside from a bit of dirt. And his golden eyes were striking.

He was very beautiful. But I knew better than to be tricked by that. He was a murdering, flesh-eating monster.

Even worse than me.

He leaned back, his lips twisting in a smirk. “You will dance.”

I crossed my arms, glaring. He could hold me prisoner and shove me in cages, make me change into a ridiculous outfit, but I would not dance. That was something I could choose.

The Red Hand smiled, and I felt a shiver race down my spine as the pistol clicked.

Bang!

I jumped out of the way as a bullet ricocheted off the sandy ground. “You almost hit me!”

The Red Hand only laughed and shot again. I dodged it, and we repeated the action again and again until the realization hit me with horrible clarity: I was dancing for him, a jerky and awful rendition of the jig he’d wanted, only now it was in order to keep my head where it was.

My cheeks burned as the other bandits laughed and clapped along to the music. The one playing the lute had shifted from the lively tune to a mocking jig song.

I hated it. But if I stopped moving, I would be wounded or worse. I glared at the Red Hand even as I moved around the clearing, avoiding the shots he fired my way.

The rude bandit from before went up and slapped the Red Hand on the back. “Good show, boss.”

Unborn god, I hated them. As soon as I got the chance, I would—

“Bring out the kill!” It was the stoic bandit, and I spun around, half expecting to see a dead body.

But instead, two bandits appeared carrying what looked to be a giant, plucked vulture on a spit—probably the one I had seen at the water earlier. Better the bird than me.

They placed it over the fire and began roasting it, and I would have been a liar if I said the smell didn’t make my mouth water. I was still hungry. All I had eaten since leaving the citadel was the edible rock they’d given me.

The Red Hand, apparently bored of shooting at me, was in the midst of his bandits, drinking. For the moment at least, I had been forgotten.

So maybe now is my chance to get away. After all, I was out of the cage, no longer tied up, and no one was paying attention to me.

Keeping my eyes on them, I started to back away, very slowly. None of them seemed to be looking my way, all of them very intent on roasting the vulture. Not that I could really blame them for that; I would have loved a piece myself.

My stomach growled, and I clutched it with my hands, as if I could shut it up. I had to take this chance. No food, however wonderful it smelled, was worth my freedom.

Once I was in the shadows and out of view, I slipped away, grateful—and not for the first time—that I was so good at sneaking around after years and years of lurking in the shadows of the citadel. I was practiced at being invisible.

I hurried over to where the horses were tied up, grazing idly. At my approach, they whickered with agitation.

“Shh,” I said, holding a finger to my lips and glancing around. Good, looks like no one followed me. And no one is watching the horses.

I got to work untying one, a beautiful black horse that looked as if he could stand the desert for long stretches—which was all I really needed. I just had to make sure that I could also stand it. Easier said than done. The horse eyed me as if he doubted my ability to do so, and I impulsively stuck my tongue out at him. The exhaustion and the hunger and the desperation to survive were getting to me, making me a little crazed.

I just needed to get out of here. After that, I could think, plan my next move.

The saddles were nowhere in sight, and I didn’t have any time to waste, so I would just have to ride bareback.

Eyeing the horse warily, I grabbed the mane and tried to climb up, but halfway up, I slid back, hitting the ground.

I couldn’t panic, and I couldn’t keep falling. I had to get on the horse, and I had to get on it now.

I clutched the creature’s mane again, determined not to fall this time as I wriggled my way up. I managed to wrap my arm around the other side, but then my foot slipped, and I fell back, barely avoiding a messy landing.

“You need to grip with your thighs.”

I spun around, startled to see the Red Hand standing in the shadows. I lifted a hand to my heart as if I could calm its racing. “Where did you come from?” A moment ago there had been no one, I was sure of it.

He stepped forward, his golden eyes gleaming in the broken moonlight. “The better question is where do you think you’re going? And on my horse?”

I gasped, blinking up at the animal. This was the Red Hand’s horse? Of course it was. I’m going to get a lashing…or worse. I’d been punished for much less back home.

My hands fisted in the skirt of the dress, tension coiling my body as I met his gaze. I couldn’t imagine what he would do to me. Eat the very flesh from my bones as I screamed in agony?

I tried and failed not to shudder at the thought. All the myths surrounding him were flooding my mind, and I winced, backing away.

The horse behind me drew me to a stop, and I could only watch, trembling, as the Red Hand came closer, smiling coldly.

He leaned in, and I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever was to come.

“You can try to steal a horse, but they’re trained well. They’ll just carry you right back to us. So, go ahead. It will be entertaining to see you try and fail.”

I scowled, my anger rising with every word. It was enough to effectively snuff out my fear.

“You’re making that up,” I declared.

To my surprise, he laughed, leaning back and regarding me with a look I couldn’t quite interpret. “Why don’t you try and see,” he said, gesturing.

I looked from the horse to him, suspicious. There was no way he would just let me go, so then maybe…he was telling the truth about the horse. In which case, even if I had managed to get away, the horse would have delivered me right back to them. No matter what, I’d lose.

The Red Hand lifted a giant drumstick and took a bite. Just the sight of it made my stomach grumble.

My cheeks heated as he paused, staring at me with the meat at his lips. He looked down at the food and then back at me, and to my shock, he held it out.

I stared at it, then at him. What was he trying to do? Was this some sort of trick? Was he going to offer it and then take it back the moment I tried to accept?

He waved it in my face. “You don’t want it? It sure seemed like you did a moment ago.”

The smell was agonizing, and my stomach growled again. Oh, forget it.

I snatched the drumstick and dug in, ravenous as my teeth sank into the juicy meat, taking bite after savage bite even before I’d finished chewing the last.

Pace yourself, or you’ll be sick, I chastised.

But I couldn’t help it. I was so damn hungry. That strange rock thing had barely been enough to tide my hunger.

I knew the Red Hand was watching, taking in my display of gluttony. But I didn’t care. He’d offered it, so I was taking it.

His laugh rattled my bones, and I glanced up, pausing with the drumstick halfway to my mouth as he started walking back toward the fire.

He glanced over his shoulder once, his golden eyes glittering. “I can tell that life is about to get much more interesting with you around.”