Anya

I’m still not entirely sure whether or not I can trust this man, but we’re dealing with a much bigger threat right now.

Besides, if Till were my enemy, there’s not a doubt in my mind that it would be easier for him to side with the soldiers than face me alone, so even if the things he told me about my mother aren’t true, we are, at minimum, united in this.

Clearly, whatever crimes he’s committed outweigh any profit he might make in turning me over.

I nod my acceptance at him, not daring to say a word and give away our position, and with my hand in his he takes off running.

It’s clear by the way he stumbles every so often that he is not as accustomed to weaving through the forest as I am—not so used to accounting for gnarled tree roots and the openings of rabbit warrens.

A grin pushes at the corners of my lips. It’s this same lack of lived experience that renders the soldiers so outmatched in this territory.

The forest is kind to its denizens.

The thought passes through my mind that I could simply take up my avian form and fly away, leaving Till to whatever fate he’d come to with the soldiers, but if I did that, I’d most definitely need to rest again.

Transformation expends a good deal more magic than simple flames, so if there’s a chance that I’ll need to fight, I can’t afford to shift.

The only safe place I know around here is the tower, and I’ve come too far to go back now.

I know it’s less than a day’s flight back if I don’t stop to rest, but it’s not the physical distance that bars me from returning. I’m out now, and even if Till’s not telling the whole truth, it’s obvious that my mother lied to me.

If I go back to that tower, I’m knowingly imprisoning myself with a liar who, if the thief is correct, isn’t even my mother to begin with. No. I need to see this through, whatever happens.

A pulse of urgency tears through me when Till suddenly stops in the middle of a small clearing—well, “clearing” is a bit of an overstatement, since the growth here is so thick.

“Why did we stop?” I hiss, keeping my tone as quiet as possible, muscles tensed to run, should the soldiers get any closer.

He shoots me an incredulous look, pressing a finger to his lips to tell me to be silent as he crouches down, pulling aside some moss to reveal an old cellar hatch.

When the thunder of hoofbeats approaches, I have little choice but to climb down as he frantically gestures, before he follows, taking a moment to cover our tracks before disappearing into the darkness with me.

My lips turn into a grimace when I realize how cramped the space is—there’s barely room for the two of us in here—heavy wooden shelves taking up most of the space.

The shelves are mostly empty, save for a few dozen dusty bottles lying around. My eyes narrow on Till, furious that he trapped us down here without consulting me first.

“Sorry for the tight fit,” Till whispers under his breath. “There used to be a meadery out here, but this cellar is all that was left over when it burned to the ground about a decade ago.”

That would explain the lack of trees here, and the heavy undergrowth. Nature has a way of reclaiming itself long after man-made structures are gone.

But waxing poetic will not help me now.

“You realize you’ve just trapped us down here.” My face screws up in frustration. “Do the soldiers not know about it?”

I don’t relish the thought of being trapped down here like game in a snare, waiting for the soldiers to come searching. If this is a known spot, coming down here was a monumentally stupid move.

The idea of being killed because the man who evaded my attacks is stupid enough to get us killed by soldiers is nearly embarrassing enough to do me in on its own.

“It. . . wasn’t strictly a legal operation when it was standing. The soldiers weren’t exactly patrons when they set it ablaze, so they never knew about the cellar.” Till shakes his head. “Makes for an excellent hiding spot, though, when one needs to escape the law.”

“Do you travel these woods often?” I raise a brow, trying to put a comfortable distance between us, but unable—my back hitting the wall. “I’d remember it if I saw you, I’m sure.”

“I’m flattered.” His lips curve up into a smug grin, which quickly falls in response to my stern glare. “I’ve never crossed the chasm before, but there’s a path deeper on this side that opens up onto the road between Sun City and the next city over.”

My lips press into a thin line. By the look on his face, he clearly thinks I’m irritated with him, but in truth, I’m mortified.

The chasm was so close to my home, and right across, there would have been people. Meeting any of them would have exposed my mother’s lies, but I had been such a good daughter and stayed within the bounds she set for me, never stopping to question.

What a fool I’ve been.

I’m about to reply when I hear hooves and footsteps above us, once even smacking against the cellar door.

My teeth grit together as I glare fiercely at the door, whispering, “We should kill them.”

“Kill them?” He looks at me, wide eyed with surprise. “Don’t you hear them? There are at least five soldiers on horseback up there—who knows how many on foot?”

“Mother and I have killed more than that,” I assert, eyeing him up and down—he has weapons, and I know from his skill at evading me that he’s more than capable, but perhaps not against a small company of trained warriors. “Though, I’ll confess you’re a poor substitute for her in combat.”

“Hey,” he hisses in warning, but I simply wave him off.

“Do not deny it,” I huff. “If you’re so green as to question my ability to fight, why should I not question yours?”

“Forgive me.” He swallows uncomfortably, struggling to hold my gaze. “I shouldn’t be surprised, since you so readily tried to kill me back in the tower.”

A flash of annoyance pierces my mind, wondering how long he’s going to underestimate me. Would he take me more seriously if he didn’t believe I was his country’s lost princess?

“Why should I hide it? The soldiers attacked us, often upon first glance.” I shrug, feeling particularly cramped in our small space now. “Why don’t you tell me what other choice you think we had?”

“I. . . suppose I’m not used to hearing someone speak so candidly about it,” he admits, sucking the inside of his cheek awkwardly between his teeth. “In the city, most people don’t go around bragging about it when they’ve killed someone.”

“Maybe that’s true for the city, but I was brought up differently.” My arms cross in front of my chest as I lean against the wall, my eyes darting away from his for a moment. “It’s just the way things have always been.”

He stares at me a moment, as if trying to choose the best words—likely keenly aware of the fact that he’s in nearly as much danger if he insults me in here as he would be up top with the soldiers.

“Do you place no value on human life, then?” He shifts uneasily. “I get that you tried to kill me because I was in your tower, but your first instinct out here is to kill. . . just like that?”

Turning my gaze away from him, I let out a small huff. I don’t understand the clawing sensation in my chest when he looks at me like that, there’s no reason to feel guilty for defending myself.

“Those soldiers would have done the same to me and mother,” I retort, my frustrations growing. “Should we value the lives of those threatening us over our own?”

His tongue darts nervously across his lips, and he raises his palms to me in submission. “No, that’s not what I—”

I cut him off, jabbing a finger into his leather cuirass. “That’s exactly—”

“Shh,” he hisses, putting a hand over my mouth, which I slap away with a glare.

He points upward, his eyes wide and frantic in an attempt to visually get his point across. That’s when I hear it too, the subtle thud of men dismounting their horses.

In that instant, our bickering is all but forgotten, and the pair of us inch together in silence, as if taking up less space will somehow make us harder to find.

Nervous anticipation hangs over us like a cloud of thick miasma, and trapped here like rats, all we can do is wait.